Archive for sha

Keep your friends close

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


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”…


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!


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.


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 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?


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.


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:  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.



(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.

Meanwhile, on the Isle of Thunder…

Posted in EPIC VERSE with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 3, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream








For years I was a dove but now that’s taken a dive;
Fool me once, then shame on you, but fool me twice, you won’t survive.
So I’ve gone on the offensive and I’m finished with forgiving;
You want to battle? Magic words are what I do for a living.
I’ve come a long way since I studied under Antonidas;
I’m still carrying the burdens of the Theramore detritus.
Now it seems you want to fight us; it’ll really just delight us,
’Cause I’ll crush your rhymes so hard you’re best off faking laryngitis.
Now I’ll throw my hands up, tear all my peace-mongering asunder, bring
My Kirin Tor contingent to the doorstep of the Thunder King.
Rhonin read an omen, so he passed me the baton;
Now I’ll purge you from this island like the Horde from Dalaran.
This won’t be pretty, pretty boy, so brace yourself, prepare,
Better cover up your eyes – oh, wait, you’re halfway there.
Don’t know who even sent you, not sure where we met or when,
But you kind of look familiar – tell me, what’s your name again?


My name is—




My name is—






Johnny Awesome, maybe?


Okay, that’s it, I’ve had enough! That really does it – ladies!

[Scout Captain Elsia and Ellendra Palescorn appear behind Lor’themar.]


You can talk a lot of trash, but the man that you’re not naming’s
Gonna serve you up your ass while his fans are all proclaiming that he’s




                         I don’t need an introduction,




                         Don’t need city reconstruction,




                         Don’t need Icecrown tissues;
I’ve got twice your regal majesty and half your daddy issues – I’m




                         Don’t need to lose my calm,
’Cause I’ll drop rhymes on you just like a mana bomb.
Until my ’Reavers are freed, don’t have to heed your screed
Or concede misdeed – know what else I don’t need?




                         Don’t need color care,
’Cause I don’t need blonde highlights in my blast-bleached hair, and




                         Don’t need dragon food,
’Cause I don’t need to go reptile when I’m in the mood.




                         Don’t need a back-up city!
I’ve got rhymes three times as vicious and a face that’s twice as pretty.




So keep your prophecy-of-Rhonin shit –
Don’t recognize my name? Neither do I – ’cause you’re not moanin’ it.


I tried my hand with humans, orcs, and elves but that was tragic;
After unbecoming slumming I traded up, Aspect of Magic.
So keep on trying fruitlessly to conjure up a scandal; it’s
No fault of mine a man’s got to be a dragon just to handle it.
I rose by acclamation to the leadership I shoulder;
As for you? You got defaulted – and you’re still just a placeholder.
You’ll always be a punch line, even more when seen in action:
You’re the seventh-string leader of a six-race faction.


I took a broken people, rallied them to something greater;
You rose to rule two cities, and they’re both on maps as craters.
You’re the village epic mount, you’re a forty-man raid,
You 180’ed and betrayed your Mary Sue charade –
Because you always played the part of diplomat to the death:
Now you’re a real-life EO Lady Macbeth.
Now I’ll stop Allies on the one side, on the other stage a coup –
’Cause I even fight Horde Warchiefs better than you.

[Taran Zhu flies in on a cloud serpent and jumps in between them.]


ENOUGH! You’ve all been sparring since you set foot in this land,
And you’ve waged your endless race war, only I can’t understand
If you’re so hell-bent to kill each other with your sword and shield
Why it’s so damn vital that you make my home your battlefield!
There’s been nothing here but trouble since you Horde and Allies came,
And I’m tired of putting up with Lady J and what’s-his-name!
I’m sick of the division; I’ll take no side in this debate –
For I know you Sha-of-Haters are just going to Sha-of-Hate.
Each aggression draws reprisal, vengeance not for the fainthearted, it
Goes on and on in circles – I don’t care who fucking started it!
For years I’ve stood upon the wall to hold back mantid masses;
Now I’ll stand between you till you pull your heads out of your asses.
Awaking Shas of Anger, Hate, and Violence weren’t enough?
Then I’ll leave you with a cup of Sha of Shut the Fuck Up!
That’s it – I’ve wasted too much breath already on you two!
I must go! I’m out, bitches! There’s work I’ve got to do!

[Taran Zhu jumps onto his cloud serpent and flies off, leaving Jaina and Lor’themar staring quizzically.]






"Lady."  "Lord."

“Lady.”   “Lord.”

The Horde is family (part 1)

Posted in Comics with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on March 30, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream



* Mokvar learned of Theldren’s unhelpful warning when Deliana appeared in Orgrimmar, as he related here.

** Mokvar and Garrosh — along with Liadrin, Utvoch, and (a version of) Faranell — were trapped in an alternate timeline during the Timequake storyline.  While there, they learned of Neeru Fireblade’s scheming in Orgrimmar (as seen here, and discussed by Neeru himself here).  Spazzle, for his part, is clearly as tired of hearing about it as are many readers.


* As Mokvar recently related here, he went to see Neeru before disappearing from Orgrimmar.


* Shayari was starting to examine this peculiarity of the altar just before Mokvar make his dramatic return here.

** Mokvar offered to help Garrosh control the sha here, which was a good mood on Mokvar’s part insofar as it likely averted an acute case of being brutally murdered.

C40_Page_4 C40_Page_5

* For anyone who doesn’t remember, Ariok’s father is Eitrigg, who has much more dove-like tendencies than Garrosh.  Granted, there are likely serial killers with more dove-like tendencies than Garrosh, but still.

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 30, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream


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


Hail Warchief!

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

–Lorewalker Shara

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

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

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

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

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

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


Greetings Warchief!

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

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




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

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

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

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

Speaking of which…


Dear Warchief,

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

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

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

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

What I want to know…*looks around*

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

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

–Ruekie, Shaman In Training

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

My dear little Roshy,

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

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

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

All my love,

–Greatmother Geyah.

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

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

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


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

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


–Shen-Wei Pureblossom

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

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

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


Hail Warchief.

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

–Kelytas, Blood Elf Paladin, Borean Tundra

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


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

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

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

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

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

–A Concerned Fashionista Blood Elf

Lor’themar, is that you?

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

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

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


Hail, Warchief!

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

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


–Anonymous Scholar, Orgrimmar

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

It sucked.

What, you wanted more?  FINE.

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

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

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

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


Dear Garrosh;

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

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

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

Varian on a spire tree?

Blood and thunder!

–Ruekie, Shaman-Still-in-Training

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

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


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

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

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

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

“What if Greatfather Winter is really Saurfang?”

“Oh… Um… Well then.”


Yo Mon!

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

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

Cheers, mon!

–Bobbette, Out der somewhere



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


Hey mon!

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

–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery

I hate you.  I really, truly hate you.


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

–Ritaba, Mudsprocket 

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

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

Fucking dragons.  FUCKING TIME TRAVEL!



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

–Yinsun, Vale of Eternal Blossoms

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

Strange bedfellows

Posted in Comics, General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 19, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream


So I’m going to spare Gurtash having to draw like ten pages of action shots and bottom-line this for you: it took a little doing, but Varian and I were able to beat down that sha that sprung up out of where-the-fuck.  Which shouldn’t come as much of a surprise – I mean, really, anyone who thought I would be writing this to inform you we’d been fucking KILLED, take a step forward.  Then take another few steps toward the nearest steep ledge and just fucking kill yourself, because seriously, too stupid to live.

Anyway, once the sha was out of the way, we got back to the much more important matter of beating the shit out of each other.  Check it out, though – we weren’t even five minutes into round two when ANOTHER sha popped up out of nowhere and had something to say.  So we had to drop everything again and take care of the sha.  Fucking rude, if you ask me.

Anyway, we polished off this one and got back to business.  For a few minutes, anyway, until – can you believe this shit? – ANOTHER sha showed up.  At which point it was way past rude getting to be just plain annoying.

Now, if it depended solely on pinhead Varian, we probably would have been going round and round like that for-fucking-EVER, but because your Warchief IS indeed the sharpest tool in the shed, after this pattern repeated itself another, like, eight or nine times, I realized that it was our fighting that was causing the sha to keep spawning.  Feeding off of our anger and hate and…well, really, let’s just call it the whole damn sha cocktail.

So, on the up side: Now we knew how to keep the damn sha from rolling up on us over and over.

On the down side: I had to put a (temporary) stop to adding to the human’s scar collection.

Seriously, do you know how fucking DISTASTEFUL it is to be stuck in a room with Varian and not be able to punch him in the face?  (Note to Genn Greymane: How the fuck do you DO it, man?)




Seriously.  How, Genn, how?

Anyway, that went on for a little while.  At least the trainees weren’t within earshot most of the time, so I could give Varian an earful.  Otherwise I’m liable to GET an earful from Orphan Matron Battlewail whenever I get back to Orgrimmar, what with the giant bone she has to pick with me about swearing so much around the kids.  Because, yeah, in situations like these, watching my language should TOTALLY be one of my priorities, right?

Anyhow.  Whatever.  After fuck only knows HOW long with Varian playing the role of “annoying little bird sitting on Garrosh’s head and pecking away verbally,” I finally managed to get him talking enough to find out how he ended up down there – after the battle at the temple, word got back to him that his soldiers had chased some orc trainees into the wilds, and he went out to join in the search.  Something about making sure his people didn’t get “overzealous,” whatever the fuck that means.  Anyway, while he was scoping out the area he managed to fall down one of those cracks in the ground, same as I did.  Idiot.  So here he was.

I’m not sure how long we were stuck there basking in the glow of each other’s delightful company, but eventually Giska came running in with a scouting report.  Apparently there were noises coming our way, and so she snuck off to check on it all stealthy-monk style, and, come to find out, there was a handful of humans heading our way.  Because hey, why not, right?  Was there anybody NOT in these caves at this point?  Who knew the fucking saurok caves were party central around these parts?  Hey, maybe fucking Koltira Deathweaver was down here too – mystery solved at last!

So, fast forward to the humans arriving, the initial “Holy shit, it’s Garrosh!” moment (RECOGNIZE, BITCHES), and the clusterfuckery of getting them to cool it before we got an in-person reminder of what’s black and white and tendrilly all over.  From that point, the humans huddled off to themselves, but I managed to listen in on bits and pieces.

I guess these newest arrivals had found the main entrance to these caves, up in the heart of Saurok Town, and had gone in searching for King Chin.  From what I can gather, they had to make their way through a shitload of saurok activity.  Seems over the last couple hours, the saurok had been spooked by the appearance of a bunch of creepy black monsters (GEE I WONDER WHERE THOSE COULD HAVE COME FROM), and now it looked like they were getting what passes for shaman in lizard-land to do some kind of rituals to close off these caves altogether with earthquakes and cave-ins and shit.  So that spurred the humans to pick up the pace looking for Varian, and look at that, they found him safe and sound, because things always work out nicely that way so long as your name isn’t fucking ME.

Luckily, the humans had a mage with them.  I say “luckily” there, because for some reason I thought, hey, cool, mage portal, we can all just pop the fuck out of here, only I didn’t realize that APPARENTLY mages can rig their portals so they can only be used by the people they WANT to use them, because I guess mages are FUCKERS like that.  So I guess the “luckily” was, in fact, only “luckily” for them, as opposed to a big juicy serving of UP YOURS for me and the kids.

And of course, class act that he is, Varian couldn’t resist sticking it to me on his way out the door.  Portal.  Whatever.





Clobberin’ time

Posted in Comics with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 11, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream


[OOC Preliminaries:  Okay, so yes, I know, I’ve been criminally slow in updating the blog.  I’ve been caught in an all-too-busy real life these last few months, and even when I have had some free time after work, I often haven’t had the mental energy to work on anything that required much focus.  And I didn’t want to just toss stuff on here that was half-assed.  Whole-assed only for my readers!  (That sounded better in my head.)  Anyway, thank you for your patience.  I don’t want to make any sweeping promises that I won’t end up keeping, but I should be able to get back to more of a normal schedule from here on.]

[Also:  Don’t think I’ve forgotten about my idea to do a blog-friends Siege of Orgrimmar group!  More on that very shortly!]

[Also also: DAMMIT, Blizzard, I already DID that idea.  FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.]


So, getting back to the long-overdue story of what the hell happened in those caves.  More specifically, what the hell happened after I turned that corner and found Varian giving me the OH HAI GAIS face.

How about THAT, by the way, huh?

So, yeah, as you might imagine, Varian and I were pretty quick to recognize this as the opportunity it was for the two of us to sit down and hash out our differences like adults.










For whom the bell tolls

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 11, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream


Well THAT was a big whole production to go through for not much of anything.

Last night, I gathered a select group of Horde personnel at the Emperor’s Reach – an ancient, abandoned mogu structure that we found in Kun-Lai – to finally tap into the power of the Divine Bell.  Malkorok brough a battalion of Kor’kron troops to oversee the proceedings, including some who were hand-picked to have the honor of being the first to be gifted with new power.  The best of the best.  Juggernauts.


Blademaster Ishi was on hand as well, along with a few other select Horde heroes from the Pandaren campaign, and once everyone was gathered and ready, I took up the hammer…mallet…um…weird-looking club doohicky?  Look, for honest, I’m not sure WHAT that thing was supposed to be.  But it was better suited for ringing a bell than Gorehowl would have been, so whatever.  Point is, I cracked out that bad boy, and for the first time in who-knows-how-long, the Divine Bell rang.


And so marks the last point in the evening that things went to plan.

As the Bell rang, we could see the dark, shadowy outlines of bizarre, twisted creatures appearing on the platform.  Transparent and shifting, but just enough to know they were there.  So THAT’S what these sha look like.  Up to this point, I’d only seen them in bits and pieces – claws mostly – when they’d partly seized onto other people.

Yes, I said “partly.”  I wouldn’t have thought that what happened to Burzum was only partial corruption by the sha.  Little did I know.  Because now, I was treated to a front-row seat as, one by one, the sha descended onto our Kor’kron juggernauts…and transformed them into sha themselves.  They were horrible to behold – I can see why the pandas and even Tak-Tak yammer on about steering clear of them.  I tried to urge the Kor’kron on and encourage them to seize control of the sha energy coursing through them, but no such luck.  They couldn’t.  They lost themselves to it.  And in the end there was nothing to be done but for the Horde champions on hand to slay the Kor’kron-turned-sha before they ran out of control.

Clearly, Malkorok had overestimated the mental toughness of that first batch of Kor’kron.  I was just about to let Ishi show the rest of the bunch how a true veteran of the Mag’har does it, when I was interrupted by a surprise visitor.

Want to know who?



Yes, THAT Anduin.


Anduin Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind.

Anduin fucking Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind, former prisoner of General Nazgrim until who the fuck even knows what happened I mean WTF, and newest volunteer to be a speechifying hemorrhoid on my curvy brown ass, because, hey, why not give fucking EVERYONE a turn at this point, right?

So, yeah, fucking ANDUIN comes strolling on up like it’s something to do – props, by the way, to my alleged BODYGUARD Malkorok for the crack security job there – and starts yapping away about the dangers of the Bell, and Garrosh-you-mustn’t.  You know, the ol’ Baine-Vol’jin standard.  Same tune, different verse.

Worked just about as well for him.  I shrugged him off and rang the Bell again, and this time, the sha magic descended onto Ishi.  Unlike the initial Kor’kron, he actually put up a fight and resisted…for a moment, anyway.  Then, after a minute, he was altered into a sha as well.  Except in his case, even with his body gone, his voice remained.

His voice, but not his words.

While our champions fought to subdue him, Ishi started spewing out words consumed by fear and rage and despair.  No sign remaining of the strong, brave orc I knew, despite my urging for him to retake control.

In the end, there was nothing left – again – but for our champions to put him to rest.  But of all his rantings before he fell, there was one that kept echoing in my thoughts.

Why should we be slaves to honor, when we could slaughter the children of our enemies while they sleep?  My blade thirsts for Alliance blood!

Control your anger, I told him.  There is killing, and then there is murder, I told him.  We’re not the ones who murder innocents.  We’re no the ones who kill children, confused and far from home.  Left to rot in a festering swamp.  Baited into a coward’s trap, tricked into an early death by a vainglorious king…

And then I looked up to find the presumptuous whelp of Varian Wrynn yipping at me.

He was fourteen years old.

Among the orcs, that made him a man.

The human brat used some mallet to crack and silence the Divine Bell, and I was far past my threshold for patience.  I swung my hammer at him.  He ducked out of the way, and the blow slammed into the Bell, which was already cracking apart.  The Bell shattered, and the pieces crumbled onto the whelp, burying him under a massive heap of metal and stone.  I could hear him cry out as his bones snapped.  Then silence.

Good.  Let Varian have a taste of true suffering.

It’s back to the drawing board for us.  For now.  I’d underestimated the effort it would take to master this sha power.  Ishi and the others were too weak-willed, and they failed me as a result.

This is what I get for not taking matters into my own hands.

When the time comes, soon, I won’t repeat their failure.  And I won’t repeat the mistake of delegating our fate to lesser orcs.  Too much depends on it.  Too high a price already.  The Horde will pervail, strong, proud, united in purpose – a rebirth of glory.  And it all depends on me to lead the way.  It’s ALWAYS depended on me.  I see that now.

I won’t fail.  I CAN’T fail.

I have a destiny.

I’m the One.


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