Archive for reader mail

Summer Sabbatical

Posted in Words from Behind the Curtain with tags , , , on July 15, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

Hi, everyone. Averry here hitting the pause button on Garrosh for one of my programming updates.

I’m going to be taking a few weeks off from blogging while I juggle a fairly packed summer schedule.

Originally, I’d convinced myself that I could forge on ahead with the blog through the middle of the summer, but over the last couple of weeks it’s become pretty clear that that wasn’t a very realistic plan. As many of you know — and many more of you can probably infer — I’m a teacher by trade, and I’m in the midst of teaching a fairly intensive summer program. Surprisingly, I’ve discovered that spending 6-7 hours, six days a week, teaching a room full of 13-year-olds, with an hour commute on either side, actually doesn’t leave me bursting with energy for my creative pursuits at the end of the day! Go figure, huh? (Or, as Garrosh the Earth Online teacher might say, “HOLD ON, HOLD ON, WHAT DID THOSE LITTLE SNOTNOSES DO TO MY ENERGY BAR? GODDAMMIT, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!”) I could keep pushing through, but that would ultimately turn the blog into more of a chore than the pleasure it normally is, which I’m sure would also cause the quality of posts to suffer. So, rather than make everyone sit around wondering when Averry’s going to get off his ass and post something, then getting a mediocre product when I do, I figure it makes more sense simply to take a few weeks off to tend to real life.

So, here begins a short vacation for the WCB. Garrosh’s next mailbag, originally scheduled for August 3, will be September 7 instead (feel free to flood my mailbox with letters during the break!). I’ll be back with more silliness (and occasional torment) in late August… at which point I may have a surprise or two in the works. SSSHHH, IT’S A SURPRISE. YOU’LL SEE. MAYBE.

Thanks as always for reading, commenting, tweeting, emailing, and otherwise making this fit of tomfoolery into the fun time that it’s been so far. Enjoy the summer, and the Warchief and I will be back soon!

 

Be seeing you,

Averry

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 6, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

mailbag

Okay, looks like we’ve got some follow-up responses to some of the last few mailbags, so let’s have at it…

 

Yo Warchief,

I’ve just come back from a meeting with one of Blackfuse’s representatives. Operation Mercenary is a-go.

He says Blackfuse’s official headquarters are all the way back on Kezan, which ain’t that easy to get to what with the exploding volcano and all that jazz, but the man’s actual main workshop is a little outfit in a cave system deep underground in the Azshara area. Not very glamorous but no one would think to look for him there, so I undersand.

Before you ask, it seems he’s run up a gambling debt with Booty Bay in the last while, so he has to lay low for the forseeable future. Good news is, that means he’s desperate – if there was any chance of him not agreeing to work with you before, there ain’t now; he’ll take money wherever he can get it.

Blackfuse says he’ll let you into his workshop so you can see what he’s offering firsthand, but you’ll have to cover your tracks. The instructions were: come on down to Bilgewater Harbour, buy 2 Moonberry Juice and a Cured Ham Steak from the innkeeper, a cute little number called Mixi, and wait for the arrival of his representative, a shifty mage called Fizz Lighter or something, who’ll port you to the complex. I remember him from Kezan; seems he’s doing well for himself these days.

Personally I prefer to meet my customers face-to-face and do business in the open rather than make them sneak around and do a little dance before enacting the secret handshake first, but I’m not the multi-million gold genius tinker in debt to the wrong people so easy for me to say I guess. Anyway, that’s what he said, Warchief, so it’s all up to you now.

One last thing: as an apology for knocking you into next tuesday with my first letter, take this little book I “purchased” from a Zandalari Troll while trolling for goods. (eheheh) It’s an Ancient Tome of Dinomancy, and I think your Kor’kron beastmasters will like it; it explains how the Zandas capture and tame direhorns (they’re dinosaurs with four legs and big-ass horns on their heads) seeing as how that’s one of the few things I threw your way that stuck. Come on out to Pandaria and see what I mean – there’s this island the Zandas call the Isle of Giants crawling with them. In particular, there’s this really stubborn and bloodthirsty devilsaur called Thok that I think you’d really like.

–Grottee Metalbeard, Goblin Shaman

P.S. Just walked past this shaman in real black clothing on the way to the postbox. You took those dark shammies up on thier offer, didn’t you Warchief? We’re all screwed…

Hey again, Grottee. Nice to see you’ve been working on your, um, editorial sensibilities. You know, the ones that help you trim out those extra thousand words or so. Anyhow.

On the one hand, good work lining things up, sort of, with that Blackfuse guy. On the other hand, fucking hell, SERIOUSLY? I need to go to the inn, and place the secret code order, and… Well, wait, hang on. Two moonberry juices and a cured ham steak? That’s the order that signals the mage lackey guy? I mean, not for anything, but that doesn’t sound like a very outlandish or unusual order. Wouldn’t the innkeeper get a lot of people buying ham steak and moonberry juice in a typical week, just by the law of averages? Cured ham steak IS some damn good eatin’, after all, and what better way to wash it down than with a nice, cold moonberry juice?

(The Warchief’s Command Board is sponsored in part by Rocktusk Pork Products and Dream of Elune Moonberry Bottlers.)

elune_ad

What?

Hey. Look. A teenage daughter is fucking expensive, okay? Don’t judge me.

ANYWAY. The point is, you would have to figure random people at the inn are going to be placing that order all the time. So, what, is Blackfuse’s mage dude getting a false alarm thrown at him every couple days? Or does he just port these people to Blackfuse’s place straight away, without even checking with them? Because I don’t know if inducing spatial-displacement freakouts from random strangers would necessarily be great for business. Or…maybe it is? Like if he sells them some doohicky to teleport BACK once they’re already there. You know, kind of like that idea I had to put up a toll booth on the way in to Silithus, and charge people 50 copper to get in and 100 gold to get out. Personally, I think it would have done wonders for the budget, but oh no, Eitrigg had to get a bug up his ass over it. I don’t know, though… another shopping trip for Shayari and I might have to revisit this one.

So, anyway, okay, I guess I’m going to have to plan a trip to Azshara now. Like I don’t already have enough to do.

 

Dear Warchief,

Thank you ever so much for your approval, I just know Lyssa and I will be so happy together. *dances around squeeing*

I know that one day I’ll be able to show her how your leadership of the Horde is bringing new opportunities for peace, harmony, and prosperity for all of us residents of Azeroth. (Even the humans, once they get rid of that simpering idiot Varian. Did you know that the Kaldorei are matriarchal, and that they don’t really have any more respect for him than you do? Apparently Tyrande calls him “High King”, but to the Kaldorei, that actually means something like “Omega Bitch”?)

–Sintra E’Drien

I… hang on.

So you mean you’re… I don’t remember giving any… Doesn’t ANYBOY even…

Oh fuck it. It’s not even worth the trouble. Have at it. What do I care?

Lucky for you your little night elf she got me in a good mood with the thing about Varian. I always sorta figured that “High King” crap was because you have to toke up on the ol’ felweed to stand being around him for more than five minutes, but… Omega Bitch? Heh. Heheheh. HahahahaHAHAHAHAHAAA! <snort> BWAHAHAHAHA! HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!

Hah.

Heh.

It’s funny because it’s true.

 

’Ey Warchief,

I be a long-time readah of da blog, an’ I gotta ask ya dis, mon. What d’ya t’ink of da light show da dragons put on? Ya know, a bit of felweed makes da whole t’ing bettah?

–Zuri, Zandalari priestess of Hir’eek

PS : When ya gonna have me back for dem special dances, mon? I know ya be enjoyin’ dem.

Thanks for writing, Zuri, I— HOLD THE PRESSES. You’re a freaking ZANDALARI?! I mean I know you’ve been around Orgrimmar (and IXNAY ON THE APDANCESLAY, for fuck’s sake – I’ve got enough griefers around here as it is), but I figured you were just another Darkspear, or I guess maybe a Revantusk or Shatterspear (Yes, I had to look those up. Shut up.), but a ZANDALARI? How the hell did THAT happen? And never mind how you even wound up in Orgrimmar in the first place – how do you even have TIME to roll around Orgrimmar? As a Zandalari, don’t you already have your day filled up with, you know, being evil, and turning up inexplicably in random lairs every few months just when they become briefly relevant, and riding dinosaurs and shit?

And HEY, STOP THE PRESSES PART II – DO YOU HAVE YOUR OWN FUCKING DINOSAUR?! Can I get one?! You think you can hook me up? Is there even a place where you go to get them? I mean, yeah, I’ve heard, Pandaria, Isle of Giants, blah blah, but have YOU got a place for them, too? Because that could SERIOUSLY cut down on some importing costs if so, depending on what Nazgrim’s scouts have to say for themselves.

So what were you talking about? Oh yeah. Light show.

For anybody who’s confused, I think Zuri’s talking about this whole deal that the blue dragonflight does every so often in Orgrimmar where they roll into town and just sort of… hover around being sparkly for a while, whenever some random chump does some big favor for them or whatever. Matter of fact, Kalecgos himself used to run the show personally, back when they first started. Looks like he’s delegating now, since he hasn’t turned up since the whole Theramore business, which is probably just as well seeing as how, you know, awkward. Or the other dragons are still turning up on their own out of habit. Who knows.

Anyway, I’m not even sure what the whole to-do with the blue dragons even IS, but yeah, Zuri, shit’s trippy as hell. Give it a look next time you’re in town if you catch them at it, people. Puff, puff, pass, sit back and enjoy. Beats the fuck out of watching your hand move, let me tell you.

 

Dear Warchief,

WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO BRING STARBULL’S TO ORGRIMMAR?! We need kafa! Hot kafa! Everyday! I mean, yes, it’s dry and hot as hell out here, but I NEED THE KAFA! Um, WE ALL need the kafa!

It’s good for you! It tastes good and can make all kinds of special flavors. Moka Lava, chucklelate, sin-AYmon troll, express-OH whoa (massive haste boost with this one), and even snickers.

Did I mention it gives a haste buff too?

For the Kafa!

–Ruekie, Shaman in training
Kafa lover

So okay, Rook, it’s not that it isn’t nice to hear from you, but I have to ask: why are you always writing me letters with these questions? You see me in person, like, ALL THE TIME. You don’t need to go write a letter. You can just turn your head slightly to the left and be like, “Hey, boss, check this out.”

Setting that aside. You know, Rook, you might be on to something. I hear tell those Starbulls joints are all over the place in Mulgore these days, so I guess they must be doing right. And I’ve gotta say – granted, it’s been a while since I’ve been out to Thunder Bluff, but last time I WAS there, I tried some of that Starbulls stuff. Not gonna lie, that kafa of theirs is pretty damn tasty. I’d especially recommend the vanilla/dark mocha tuxedo iced latte. You’ll thank me later.

(The Warchief’s Command Board is sponsored in part by Starbulls Kafa.)

starbulls_ad

Yeah, what of it?

Don’t look at me like that.

LISTEN, DOELING GOT EXPENSIVE TASTES, OKAY?!

Fucking hell, you people.

Anyway, yeah, I might have to look into getting a Starbulls over here. I know there’s already a kafa place over in the goblin part of town, but the one time Spazzle took me, the kafa tasted like sludge. Actually, I’m not at all sure the stuff WASN’T sludge.

Also, come to think of it… A ready supply of kafa might possibly be handy to have around the next time Tirion shows up looking for Eitrigg. You think that haste buff might make him get to the point faster?

 

That’s going to do it for this time around. As always, keep those letters coming. More soon.

 

[The Warchief’s next mailbag will be Monday, August 3. As always, send e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the handy form below!]

[Revision! Due to a reality-necessitated blogging break, the next mailbag is being postponed from August 3 to September 7. By all means keep those e-mails and form submissions coming, though!]

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 1, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

mailbag5

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

 

Hail, Warchief,

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

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

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

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

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

Yours faithfully,

–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master

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

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

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

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

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

 

Well well, Hellscream,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–Lantresor of the Blade

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

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

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

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

 

Hey, uh, Boss?

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

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

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

Have a good one!

–Khizzara.

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

Yeah, that Lantresor guy is…

Hang on.

<thinks>

Oh FUCKING HELL, SERIOUSLY?

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

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

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

And yet.

Fuck. Rock and a hard place.

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

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

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

 

Dear Warchief:

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

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

Hopefully,

–Sintra E’Drien of Silvermoon.

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

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

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

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

Hang on, though.

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

<thinks>

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

I’ll be in my bunk.

 

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

Keep your friends close

Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 22, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

orgrimmar21

So I guess Spazzle already filled you guys in on the Gurtash thing.  No new developments on that front so far.  The healers say that the kid’s either going to come around on his own, or not come around at all, which personally I think is a big huge CYA measure on their part, but they’re the healers and I’m not so I guess I might as well give it a few more days before I start smacking people around.

In other news, I’m making some changes to Shayari’s mage training plan.  She’s still going to be studying with Faranell over in the Undercity, but I decided that there wasn’t much need for her to LIVE over there permanently.  For one, she IS a mage, so she can just teleport over where when she has lessons, and besides, based on recent experience…I mean…good fucking luck getting her to STAY there if she’s gotten it into her head that she doesn’t want to.  It’s just easier this way.

So in related news, when I got in touch with Faranell about the revised plan for Shay, he decided it was a good time to hit me up with the estimate for whatever the hell he needs to have done to his jaw after Shay clocked him, or whatever the fuck happened.  Then, as if all of this hadn’t put me in a great enough mood already, it just so happened that THAT’s the moment when the bill for that shopping trip Liadrin took Shay on came in, and HOLY FUCKING SHIT ARE YOU KIDDING ME.  That hyacinth macaw of hers better fucking well shit GOLD, is all I’m saying.  Are kids ALWAYS this expensive?!  Fucking hell, this is going to clear out the bank in no time flat at this rate.  Nice job, doeling.  Yeesh.

Anyhow.  In OTHER other news, now that Mokvar’s mostly accounted for himself, it’s time he got back on the job and made himself useful.  Which as you can imagine made everyone in the war room pleased as punch.  And by “punch” I mean “panda punching Varian in the fucking face”…

fyv

Because some shit just never gets old.  Heh.  Hehehehe…

Anyway.  Yeah.  Smiles all around for Mokvar’s return to Grommash Hold.

 

MALKOROK:  Sir!  With all due respect, you can’t be serious!

EITRIGG:  You’re lifting the banishment?!

MALKOROK:  You can’t possibly intend to allow this…this treasonous dog back into your council chamber!

MOKVAR:  Uh, yeah, nice to see you guys, too.

EITRIGG:  Garrosh, I don’t understand.  After everything that happened with Mokvar, after his conspiring with Magatha, for spirits’ sake—

GARROSH:  Look, I understand why you banished him while I was away, Eitrigg.  I’m not lifting it now because it was the wrong call at the time.  If I’d been here, I probably would have done the same thing myself.

EITRIGG:  Then why, Garrosh?

MALKOROK:  I’m not usually inclined to agree with the old man, Warchief, but once he’s right.  Why would you restore this—

GARROSH:  BECAUSE, you two, Mokvar’s managed to account for himself to my satisfaction, and—

MALKOROK:  Sir, whatever lies this traitor has told you—

GARROSH:  Are MINE to judge, Malkorok, not yours.  I believe he’s telling me the truth.

Garrosh looks over at Mokvar, then back to Malkorok.

Enough of it, at least.  Besides…I have good reason to believe that Mokvar has access to…certain resources that could be of great tactical benefit to us.

EITRIGG:  Warchief…?

MALKOROK:  I find it hard to believe he possesses anything that our forces—

GARROSH:  You remember the Divine Bell, Malk?  What a smashing success that whole grand finale was?  Suffice to say, during his reintroduction to the warlock world, Mokvar found something that could have swung that whole fiasco in our favor.

Eitrigg slumps back in his chair uncomfortably.  While Malkorok and Garrosh continue, Taktani bounces into the room, with Shayari following behind.

MALKOROK:  Assuming he’s not making up the entire st—

GARROSH:  <pointing back at his throne>  DO YOU WANT TO SIT IN THIS CHAIR?

TAKTANI:  <hopping onto the throne happily>  Oooh, I do, Mr. Warchief!  Yay!  It looks comfy!

Garrosh looks back at Taktani, rubs his forehead, then turns back to Malkorok (who suddenly looks much more exhausted than he did just a moment ago).

GARROSH:  Look, Malk.  I’ve made my decision.  And if you don’t think it’s the right one, then guess what?  I’ve still made my decision, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.  Mokvar’s banishment is lifted, and I’m reinstating him to scribe duties.

TAKTANI:  <sprawling back on the throne and waving one paw around>  I’m the Warchief-chief!  Yay!  Lemon squares or death!  Hee hee!

GARROSH:  Besides, would you really rather have HER staying on indefinitely?

MALKOROK:  You…may have a point, sir.

TAKTANI:  Aww don’t be grumpy, Mr. Malky!  No grumpies allowed!  <waving her paw around more>  Off with his head!  Tee hee!

GARROSH:  TAK.

TAKTANI:  Ooh!  Okay!  Right, Mr. Warchief, sir!

Taktani hops off the throne and bounces over to the council table.

GARROSH:  Mokvar, this is Taktani.  She’s been filling in for you while you’ve been away.  Well, splitting time with… Uh, anyway, she’s been filling in as a scribe.

TAKTANI:  <bouncing up onto the council table and leaning in close to Mokvar>  Hiiiiii Mr. Mokvar!  It’s nice to meet you!

GARROSH:  She used to write in to the blog before you went AWOL, remember?

TAKTANI:  I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Mok-Mok!  I’m sure the nice things are true!

MOKVAR:  I— wait, you mean she’s real?

MALKOROK:  Unfortunately.

TAKTANI:  You’re so grumpy, Mr. Malky!  I bet you just need a big hug!

MALKOROK:  Don’t you dare even think of—

TAKTANI:  Again!

MALKOROK:  Warchief!

GARROSH:  Rein it in, Tak.

MOKVAR:  Okay, you know, she’s a little hyper for my tastes, but I think she’s starting to grow on me all the same.

SHAYARI:  Chuckles really does bring out the best in people, doesn’t he?

GARROSH:  Huh— oh, hey, Shay.

SHAYARI:  Hey.  <scanning the table>  Hey, Beardy.  Chuckles.  Other Old Guy I Don’t Know.

GARROSH:  Oh, yeah, you never met Eitrigg, did you?

SHAYARI:  I think you mentioned him to me. But yeah.

GARROSH:  He’s Ariok’s old man, if that helps any.

SHAYARI:  Ohh, okay.  So you’re kind of Grayscale Senior.  I guess that makes you…what, sepia, sort of?

EITRIGG:  …Warchief?

GARROSH:  <sighs>  Yeah, okay.  So.  Eitrigg, this is Shayari.  She’s…my daughter.

Eitrigg stares blankly for a full minute.

TAKTANI:  Mr. Warchief?  Is Mr. Eatery okay?

GARROSH:  Eitrigg?

EITRIGG:  <blinks>  I… I’m sorry, Garrosh.  I think my brain might have just stroked off there for a moment.  Did you just say…?

GARROSH:  She’s my daughter.  Yeah.

MALKOROK:  Supposedly.

SHAYARI:  I know, Chuckles, I’m too good for a lot of people to believe.

EITRIGG:  <gesturing bewilderedly toward Shayari>  But… but Warchief… how…?

GARROSH:  Dude, do I really have to work it out for you?

SHAYARI:  #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh, am I right?

EITRIGG:  I…oh…well…  <gathers himself, turns to Shayari>  It’s a pleasure, Miss Shayari.

SHAYARI:  Thanks, Grampa Sepia.  Oh, and if your boy mentions anything about livestock, I don’t know anything about it.

MALKOROK:  Warchief, is there a reason why your…offspring is barging in on our meeting?

TAKTANI:  Aw, Mr. Malky, why can’t you be friendly?  You should smile more!

MALKOROK:  That’s enough from you, druid!

MOKVAR:  Yeah.  I definitely think I’m starting to like her.

SHAYARI:  Oh, don’t sweat it, Tak.  Guy Smiley here’s just pissy ’cause I’m a walking, talking reminder that Pops has gotten laid more recently than him.

TAKTANI:  Huh?

MALKOROK:  Draenei, I—

GARROSH:  Malk, zip it.

MOKVAR:  And I know I’m starting to like her.

GARROSH:  Come to think of it, though, what ARE you doing here, Shay?

SHAYARI:  I’m just checking to see how long Tak’s going to be busy with the meeting.

GARROSH:  Uh, not long.  It’s going to be a pretty short one today.  Why?

SHAYARI:  Nothing huge.  When she’s done, I was going to port us up to Silvermoon to do some shopping.  I can kill a little time, though.  I’ll just be over at Kodohide’s, ’kay, Tak?  I can check out the leather jackets while you do your thing.

TAKTANI:  Okay!  I’ll come find you!

GARROSH:  Hang on – SHOPPING?  We just moved like five huge cases of yours back from the Undercity.  Don’t you have ENOUGH stuff?

SHAYARI:  <walking toward the door>  That’s cute, pops.  “Enough stuff.”  You’re adorable.  Later, Tak!  Oh, and Chuckles?

Malkorok looks up.

Don’t forget: being a walking bag of hyena urine is something most people couldn’t carry off, but you, sir…are no exception.  Toodles!

Shayari exits.

GARROSH:  <rubbing his forehead>  I can already tell I’m going to have to start making withdrawals from the bank, aren’t I…

MOKVAR:  You know what?  I’m going to skip right past “like” and say I’m starting to love her.

EITRIGG:  She does have a certain infectious charm.

GARROSH:  Okay, so…

TAKTANI:  Should I start scribing now, Mr. Warchief?

GARROSH:  Ah.  Well, no, Tak.  See, you were filling in for Mokvar, and he’s back now, so he’s going to be taking over again.

TAKTANI:  Oh…

Taktani looks back and forth between Garrosh and Mokvar.

You don’t want me to be your scribe anymore?

Taktani makes big, sad kitty eyes.

Did I do bad?

GARROSH:  Oh geez.

MALKOROK:  <rubbing his forehead>  Merciful spirits….

GARROSH:  Ugh… Look, Tak, you—

MOKVAR:  Garrosh?

GARROSH:  Hmm?

MOKVAR:  You know, while I get reacclimated, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to let her stay on for a little while, just to make sure I don’t miss anything in my notes.

Taktani’s face lights up, and she turns to Garrosh hopefully.

GARROSH:  Oh for… Yeah.  Fine.  Whatever.  You’re already here, so you might as well stick around for today anyway.

TAKTANI:  YAY!!

MALKOROK:  <glaring at Mokvar>  Scribe, what in hellfire are you doing?

Taktani hops gleefully into a chair next to Malkorok.  Mokvar tilts his head to one side, watching her, then smirks at Malkorok.

GARROSH:  Okay…so, getting down to actual business, finally.

TAKTANI:  Yay!

GARROSH:  TAK.

TAKTANI:  Oops!  Sorry, Mr. Warchief sir!

Taktani makes an exaggerated zipping movement in front of her mouth, then stifles a giggle.

GARROSH:  So.  Moving on.

MALKOROK:  Warchief, with your approval, I’d like to add a few additional patrols around the read gate.

GARROSH:  Is there a problem?

MALKOROK:  Just a precaution.  I’ve gotten reports of some minor oddities around the Valley of Honor.  I’d just like to make sure there isn’t anything to be concerned about.

GARROSH:  Fine.  Do what you need to do.

MALKOROK:  Yes, sir.

GARROSH:  Now for more important business.  Mokvar, what’s our next step on your sha project?

EITRIGG:  Garrosh…

MOKVAR:  I’ll need to see some of these sha in person.  This isn’t going to be exactly the same as dominating demons, so I’ll need to start small and work out the bugs.

GARROSH:  Fine.  I’ll be heading back to Pandaria in a couple weeks.  You’ll come with me, and we’ll take it from there.

EITRIGG:  Garrosh, I don’t like the sound of dabbling further with these sha—

GARROSH:  Your objections are noted and inconsequential.

MOKVAR:  That should work out.  I have a few things I wanted to check on in Pandaria anyway.

GARROSH:  In the meantime, I want you to check in with a few people as well, on a couple different fronts.

MOKVAR:  What’s that?

GARROSH:  For one, I want you to go see Overseer Elaglo.  He and Xorenth are working on a few things down in Ragefire Chasm that I think you might be able to help with.

MOKVAR:  Okay.  What are they working on?

GARROSH:  They’ll fill you in when you get down there.  And while you’re down that way, I want you to touch base with Neeru Fireblade in the Cleft of Shadow.

MOKVAR:  Uh… you want me to… why?

GARROSH:  Because given what went down with him before you starting going all off-hinge, I think he’d be pretty damn interested in the fact that you’ve got yourself a new toy.

MOKVAR:  Well, yeah, I’m sure he would, but I was figuring I’d probably be better off keeping CLEAR of him about that.  Why even let him know I have the—

GARROSH:  Because knowing will get his curiosity up.  And you know what curiosity did to the cat.

Garrosh looks to a suddenly nervous-looking Taktani.

Not you, Tak.

Taktani lets out a relieved sigh while Garrosh turns back to Mokvar.

I doubt that he’s going to want to trust you, considering everything that’s gone on.  But I’m betting curiosity about what you’ve been up to, and your shiny new do-dad in particular, is going to be too much for him to resist.  So I want you to dangle it in front of him, and see if you can get in good with him.

MOKVAR:  <nodding slowly>  And then I report back to you.

GARROSH:  And then you report back to me.  We know Neeru’s up to something, but so far he’s been careful.  But YOU…well, what you bring to the table might mean just enough for his demonic interests to bring him out.  I know we can’t trust him, so I want someone keeping him close.

MOKVAR:  Got it.  I’ll do what I can.  When should I head over?

GARROSH:  No time like the present.  You might as well head over.  I already told Elaglo and Xorenth you’d be by sometime today.

MOKVAR:  Okay, chief.  I’ll get the records written up and posted for you later today.

GARROSH:  Yeah, that’s fine.

Mokvar gathers up his documents and walks toward the door.

<talking over one shoulder without turning around>  And Mokvar.

Mokvar stops in the doorway and looks back.

It’s good to have you back.

 

Mokvar hasn’t gotten back from the Cleft of Shadow yet, but when he does, hopefully there’ll be some good news.  In the meantime, I’m going to talk to Spazzle about putting some filters on the blog.  Some posts, at least.  It’s good having these records here, but we’re going to want to start limiting who can see certain information.  You guys are all cool, don’t worry.  But some of this stuff…yeah, we’re going to need to be a little more careful.  Especially if things start lining up like I think.

More soon.

 

ADDENDUM FROM TAKTANI’S NOTES:

(Mr. Mokvar left.)

MALKOROK – Warchief, I still object to you trusting that scribe after his treasonous conduct.  Especially with these kinds of sensitive matters.

GARROSH – Malk, do you not listen to any fucking thing that I say?

MALKOROK – Warchief?

GARROSH – Did you miss what I told him about keeping someone who can’t be trusted close, so we can keep an eye on him?

MALKOROK – No, sir, I heard you, but—

GARROSH – Did you think I was only talking about Fireblade?

(Malkorok became still a moment, thinking, then gave a slow nod.)

MALKOROK – Yes, sir.  I think I understand.  I…wouldn’t have thought of that, sir.

GARROSH(nodding back)  That’s why I’m in charge.

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 18, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

mailbag4

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

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


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

–Alayea

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

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


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

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

–Grotte Metalbeard

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

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

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


Yo Big G,

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

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

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

Pleasure doing business with ya,

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

Yeah.  So.  Thanks?

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

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

Fucking price-gouging goblins.

Heya warchief,

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

There once was a goblin from Ratchet.

Go!

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

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

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

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

EPIC VERSE!


Hello, Hellscream,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–Lantresor of the Blade

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

Anyway.

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

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

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

And speaking of whom…


Lok’tar again Warchief!

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

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

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

Help!

–Mirembe

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

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

Hang on.

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

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

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

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

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

Erm…

Never mind.



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

More soon.


[Next mailbag: June 1!]

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 11, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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

 

Dear Warchief,

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

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

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

Innocently yours,

–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City

Uh huh.  Yup.

#TheLadiesLoveGarrosh

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

But I digress.

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

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

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

 

Yo Warchief Hellscream,

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

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

–Glesse “Glitch” Sparkbolt, Sparkbolt Enterprises

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Greetings, Warchief,

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

–Gurda Ragescar, Splintertree Post

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

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

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

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

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

 

Yo, what’s up Warchief?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman

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

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

tiriontweet

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

More soon.

 

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

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 6, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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You know what this is, you know how this works, let’s get right to it.

 

Dear Warchief,

I heard that you really like bacon. ME TOO! Bacon is the greatest. It’s like candy, but it’s meat. I like meat. I want to try ALL the meat! I tried crocolisk yesterday for the first time and it was really good! It tastes a bit like pork, but more gamey. What’s your favorite meat that’s not bacon? Are there any animals you would like to eat but haven’t had a chance to try yet? Yay, meat!

–Suirohtal, Archdruid of People for the Eating of Tasty Animals

Holy shit, this guy is like Bizarro Lathorius!  And also, gotta say, this PETA sounds like something I could totally get behind.  So you know what?  YAY MEAT INDEED, MY GOOD MAN.  I think I like this archdruid a hell of a lot better than the other guy.  Speaking of which, if you have an urge to send a giant kodo caravan to Orgrimmar carrying a vast assortment of meats, well, that would be super nifty and keen.

Can’t say I’ve had crocolisk, but if it reminds you of pork, it can’t be half bad.  Naturally, nothing beats bacon, but there is no kind of pork that can steer you wrong.  Or roasted boar.  That’s some damn good eating, too.  Basically if it’s a meat that comes from a porcine source, we’re good.  Pork is pretty much the alpha meat.  (You quillboar better take care not to get on my nerves too much.)

Talbuk and clefthoof are both pretty good, too, by the way.  Clefthoof, I’ll have you know, makes for damn good stew meat especially.  Keep that in mind next time there’s a cold winter night and you feel like getting big pot of something going over the fire.

Dammit, I’m making myself hungry.

Anyhow.  I can’t think of any animals I’d like to eat that I haven’t.  I’ve done a fair bit of hunting over the years, so I’ve eaten a lot of different meats.  If anything, the thing I’d really like to eat more of would be vegetables.  I can’t say I’ve made much of a habit of including them in my diet, and I think it would be pretty great if HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I THOUGHT I COULD GET THAT OUT CLEAN.

Anyway, though, thanks for writing, Suirohtal, and getting the mailbag off to a good start.  This bodes well for a fun time this mailbag.

 

Hail Warchief,

Firstly, my thanks for hearing my plea. I look forward to observing the Alliance reaping what they sowed when they killed my mate. 

Secondly, to answer your question, yes, I am related to Shyrka Wolfrunner. You see, she is my cousin – the daughter of my father’s brother. Our family has a tradition of keeping and breeding wolves for mounted travel and combat – not as exciting as the Saurfang warrior line, I know, but one I am no less proud of. I’m told my father maintained the last wolf kennel on Draenor before it was destroyed, working for the Thunderlord Clan while the clans were ruled by Shadowmoon and the fallen Great Shaman, Ner’zhul. 

For your wyvern’s new, ahem, ‘habits’, I have a solution. Such stains are easily removed using a solution made from ground-up Fadeleaf and Sungrass. Since the ingredients are found so far apart from each other, I enclose a sample in the flask attached to this letter. With any luck, Overlord Malkorok will no longer have to worry about stains on his boots. To prevent it from happening again, your guards should walk up and down. Animals will not do their business on moving objects. 

Finally, if you’re interested, Warchief, I have a wolf you may wish to take for your Kor’kron mounted forces. He is the pride of his litter, one of two pups who are stronger, tougher and more agile than any of their siblings. Most of my wolves are sold to greenhorn adventurers, carrying them across Azeroth on their quests or into the fray in a battleground, but this wolf, Grimjaw, and his younger sister are being held in reserve for special occasions. The younger one, Blackfang, is for my son, a present for when he comes of age. Grimjaw was to be an anniversary present for Detanga, to replace her last wolf who died of old age some time ago, but as you know, that is now a moot point.

I was originally worried about what would happen to my wolvess if any of them were taken to the Kor’kron stables, but before I started writing this my daughter asked me, “Daddy, when will Mummy be coming home from her ‘expitition’?” because I hadn’t the heart to tell her, and nothing has ever hurt me so much as telling her that her mother will never come home, and seeing the tears well up in her eyes, and holding her and her brother to my chest while doing my best not to cry myself. 

They deserve to have their mother hold them in her arms and tell them how proud she is of them. I can’t give them that, but if my wolves can bear your warriors into battle so that no more sons and daughters will grow up without a parent, I will have served my Horde well and given Detanga’s spirit cause to rest in peace. 

Yours faithfully, 

–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master

OH, FUCKING HELL, dude, how many times are you going to bring the damn room down?!

I mean.  Um.  Yeah, uh, still sorry for the loss of your wife, Ogunaro.  And, I mean, that whole story about your wolves, and your daughter, and having to… um… explain what… erm… what happened… and…  And hang on, um, I think it must be hayfever season or some shit, I need to… yeah, hold up, I need blow my nose.  Or something.

AHRRM.  OKAY.  Fucking weird…there must be something in the air or something.  Hrrmph.  Ahem.  Okay.  OKAY.

So.

I appreciate the offer of the wolf, Ogunaro.  I’ll be honored to take Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold.  Rest assured, considering what he means to you, he’ll be well taken care of, and as a mater of fact, I’ll make sure he’s groomed for a role of some importance.  Now, mind you, I’m already good on mounts – everybody who reads the blog is familiar with Mortimer, obviously, but even on the wolf end of things, I’m covered what with me already having Malak.  But… I think I have a job that would suit Grimjaw just fine.  Stay tuned.

 

Lok’tar Warchief!

I know you answered my letter in the last mailbag, but that was a really long time ago. Like, longer than the wait between Winter’s Veil and Noblegarden! Anyway, I thought you’d like another update on my training! I still do the meat shield thing, and boy do things drop super fast when my shield meets their faces! I’m actually in Outland now! Can you believe it?! I even had enough gold to buy my own wyvern from the nice lady in Orgrimmar. I think his name is George. At least, he likes it when I call him that.

Me and George have been having all kinds of fun! We even met a nice zombie man who took us through some smelly dungeons full of red orcs and those snake people so I could learn how to warrior better! He was really cool for being a zombie.

Oh! I even met some brown orcs like you! They didn’t like me at first, but their shaman said she trusted me. Then I said you were my Warchief and they liked me! They even kept me safe from those big robots that roam around!

Anyway, I think this letter’s gone on long enough. Plus George is looking for his wyvern chow.

–Mirembe

PS: I had so many teeth from shield bashing that I made you a necklace to thank you. It has to be better than those silly charm bracelets you get every year!

Hey, Mirembe.  Glad the training is coming along.  Grats on the wyvern – trust me, you’ll love having one.  It takes a little time for you to get used to each other, but once you do, you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life.  They DO seem to have some lame-ass names, though.  Don’t know what to make of that.

Anyway, make sure you check in with me before you go back to what’s-her-face to upgrade your flying license and kick George up to the fast lane.  I’ll see to it that they hook you up with the trainee discount.  The discount being that they charge you with an I.O.U. that they have to come to me personally to collect, in whatever amount they feel comfortable coming to ask me for face-to-face, alone in a closed room, where I have Gorehowl hanging on the wall while I kick back in a chair carved out of a giant skull.  Should save you a coin or two.

And hey, sounds like you’re getting in good with the Mag’har.  Sweet!  If you’re rolling around in Outland helping them out, you’re probably going to wind up in Nagrand before too long.  Gotta admit I miss the place…it’s been too long since I’ve been around.  When you get there, make sure you look up Greatmother Geyah.  She pretty much raised me after my mom died.  Sweet lady, definitely get in good with her, but, word of advice?  When you talk to her, when she starts asking about your life, don’t volunteer any more information than you have to.  Give her too many details to sink her teeth in, and trust me, she will try to greatmother you the fuck to DEATH.  Still, tell her I said hi.  Also, if you happen to see Jorin Deadeye while you’re out there, tell him I said fuck you.  Dude’s a dick.  Always gave me a hard time, when we were kids, about Grom being the one who doomed our people.  Like HIS dad was any hot shit.  Fucker.

And hey, thanks for the necklace.  It actually kinda looks like the one I made myself years and years ago.  See, it’s a tradition in the Warsong clan to make a necklace from bones or teeth from your earliest kills, carved with ceremonial runes.  The teeth from this necklace weren’t from your FIRST kills, right?  I wouldn’t want to take those from you – those should be yours.  Otherwise, though, awesome.  I appreciate the gesture, as long as it’s not stepping on ceremonial toes.  Come to think of it, Mira, which clan are you from?

 

Hey mon,

Can’tcha say somethin’ nice ’bout trolls, mon?

–Zim’bobwe, Sen’jinn Village

No.

Okay, okay, fine.  Ben-Lin’s been on me to try to be more positive, so maybe if I scrape up something here it’ll shut her the fuck up for ten seconds about me being fucking negative like that shit’s any of her business in the first place.  For fuck’s sake.

What was I saying?  Oh.  Yeah.  Fucking trolls.

So, okay, fine.  Something nice about trolls.  And I’m even going to try not to be snarky and say something like “Well at least they’re mortal so I know they’ll die eventually.”  Even though that’s totally true, and a definite plus.  Where was I again?  Fuck, I’m losing focus a lot today.  Might have had too much kafa.  Anyway.

So yeah.  Something nice about trolls.  So okay, here we go.

Those motherfuckers can dance.  Like they’ve got moves like nobody’s business.  Especially some of those troll girls, because…you know what?  I don’t like trolls as a general rule, but…every so often, you have to entertain exceptions.

Yeah, yeah, fine, give me looks.  Check ’em out sometime.  NO JURY WOULD CONVICT ME.

 

Dear Warchief,

After your recent (and highly illuminating) live blog, I decided to look into this Ask.fm site you’d mentioned. After entertaining a handful of questions though, something strange started happening. Some anonymous person or people seemed determined to keep asking me questions that weren’t really questions, just requests for “Pap of house,” “Pap of your room,” and maybe most distressing “Pap of feet.” I have no idea what they’re asking. You seem to be more familiar with internet customs than I am Warchief – what does this “pap” mean, and why is this person so interested in it? And what does it have to do with my feet??

–Disturbed In Durotar

Oh geez.

Welcome to the world of internet jackassery, DID.  If this is your first encounter with it, congratulations on logging on to the internet for the first time ever this week.

So…the “PAP” thing.  Yeah. I get this, too.  So apparently, it’s an acronym, only I don’t really want to call it an acronym because “acronym” sounds like something that should be at least marginally smart rather than the soul-bleeding exhibition of stupid that almost invariably goes hand-in-hand with this little gem.  But I guess it’s supposed to stand for “Post A Picture.”  So the people you’ve heard from apparently want to see your house, your room, and your feet, and honest to fuck I couldn’t even take a guess at which of those you should be more fucking disturbed about.  Maybe your feet.  But I guess that might depend on how much cool stuff you’ve got at your house that these fuckers might try to break in and steal.

You know what?  No.  It’s the feet thing.  Because seriously, internet freak shows, seriously.

Speaking of which, kind of.  Like I said, I’ve gotten these “PAP” questions a lot, too.  Like, relentlessly.  And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.  And I know I’ve made this point on Ask.fm before, but on the off chance any of these PAP-spamming fucknoses are reading this now, I’d like to take a moment here to address them directly:

Good evening, wastes of life.

I can understand why you value efficiency.  I get it.  I really do.  You people clearly have rich, busy lives, skulking around in your caves and musing over what it would be like if someone could invent some magical substance that would remove the stink from your assorted crevices with the mere addition of water.  Maybe they could package the stuff in solid cakes small enough to hold in one hand.  I’m just spitballing here.

Point is, you want to be time-efficient because you’ve got shit to do.  You can’t burn up your whole afternoon search-and-pecking your way through whole words, because dammit, you’ve got business to tend to on the internet, and if you can’t cut a few corners on questions you’re voluntarily posting to people who don’t give a fuck about you, well then, that’s less time you can devote to running around posting other comments like, say:

comment1

Because then who the fuck is going to illustrate irony for people so they can understand what it is?  Or maybe you need to get around to your blog reading so you can offer incisive commentary like:

comment2

Because FUCK THAT GUY, THAT’S WHY.  FUCK HIM IN THE ASS WITH A PITCHFORK-MOUNTED JACKHAMMER.  POINT BEING.  You’ve got shit to do and you don’t have time to waste writing out whole words like “for” and “you” and “are,” and spirits fucking save us if you ever need to say “you are,” because now we’re getting into your/you’re territory and at that point holy shit ALL bets are fucking off.

So I get it.  I do.  You’ve got places to go (virtually) and people to meet (i.e., to yell at online with a raging bitterness despite never having met these people in reality) and you can’t have trivial things like keystrokes and complete words standing between you and your complete and utter worthlessness as a living being.

Here’s the thing.

And I can’t stress this enough.

YOU’RE NOT EVEN SAVING YOURSELF ANY FUCKING KEYSTROKES WITH THE FUCKING “PAP” THING.  You can just type “pic” and ask the same damn thing, and still use the exact same number of letters.  IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME, LOOK, WE’LL COUNT TOGETHER.  ONE, TWO, THREE – the number of letters in “PAP.”  ONE, TWO, THREE – the number of letters in “pic.”  ONE, TWO, THREE – your total number of IQ points.  SEE HOW IT ALL WORKS OUT?  WERE YOU ABLE TO FOLLOW THAT DEMONSTRATION OR DO I NEED TO GET A FUCKING PURPLE SAN’LAYN PUPPET IN HERE TO TAKE YOU THROUGH IT AGAIN?

And hey, guess what, while you’re at it saying “pic” like a normal person who hasn’t been beaten in the head with a brick for six hours straight by everyone who’s ever lived plus six more guys, you also have the ADDED bonus of NOT reminding people of a fucking medical procedure that NO ONE HAS EVER HAD HAPPY ASSOCIATIONS WITH EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.

So listen – if you have “PAP” as part of your functional vocabulary, here’s what you need to do.  Go get a chisel.  Now grab onto the fucker real real tight – like imagine the chisel is your dick and you just found footage online of someone being really unhappy and you’re getting ready to jerk off to that shit, because FUCK YOU – and jam that chisel right up into your brain and shove it around until you’ve scraped all memory of this “PAP” shit right the fuck out of there forever.  Okay?  Stop it.  Just stop it.  “PAP” us no more “PAPs.”  ENOUGH ALREADY.  ENOUGH.  KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF, AND I HOPE YOU DIE.

I’m glad we had this little talk.

 

More soon.

 

Next mailbag May 4!  E-mail garrosh1337@gmail.com or submit your message below:

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