Archive for argent crusade

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 30, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

It’s been a while since the last mailbag, so while I’ve got a break in the action, let’s see what’s piled up the last few weeks…

 

Dear Warchief,

Since Faranell has effectively retired from the Royal Apothecary Society, I’m wondering if Sylvanas is taking applications for a new Master Apothecary?  I’m a veteran alchemist who’s been at the craft for several years.  I even worked out a formula to turn myself into a dragon – rar!  Any chance you could put in a good word for me?

–Karelien, Silvermoon City

Sorry to tell you, Karelien, the master apothecary job is already filled.  Once it got decided that Faranell was being moved over to Hearthglen, Sylvanas went ahead and did a promotion from within, and appointed Apothecary Zinge to take over as head of the RAS.  If you want, I could maybe see about getting you into some kind of entry-level position over there.  Not what you were shooting for, I know, but you have to start somewhere.  I get the sense that Sylvanas doesn’t do a lot of hiring from the outside, so if you want to have any shot at all at the higher positions, you probably need to already be on the ladder.

If you do land a job over there, by the way, could I maybe ask you to keep an eye on Overseer Kraggosh, and just try to discourage him from packing away so many cheesy steak melts?  I’m all for steak, but I swear the Undercity’s got rivers of viscous slime that have a smoother flow to them than that dude’s arteries.

 

Hey mon,

Do you know where Mankrik’s wife be at?

–Bob, Echo Isles

Oh, geez, this guy again.

I already addressed this one like a zillion times last year, when I was making an inspection stop in the Barrens.  Where – just to recap – somebody was asking about Mankrik’s wife like every five minutes.  Over and over.  Fuck, people are annoying.

Here’s where the joke’s on you, though, Bobby-Boy.  Back THEN, I might have taken the bait and started ranting at you about his wife having a memorial and all that shit.  NOW, though, you ask me where Mankrik’s wife is, and you know what?  You’re gonna have to specify WHICH ONE.  That’s right, over the last year or so, our boy Mankrik has managed to calm down a little (and holy shit did he need it), courtesy of a whole bunch of consoling and support from this Earthen Ring shaman named Mahka.  The two of them wound up growing pretty close, and a few months ago, they decided to make it official and held a quiet life-mate ceremony in Mulgore.  If you’re wondering why you didn’t hear about this, well, let’s face it, Thrall’s wedding pretty much pushed everybody else’s deal to the back pages.  Self-Important Green Savior Finally Gets Some, stop the presses.  Whatever.

Oh, and for the record, the first Mrs. Mankrik?  Still dead.  Let’s hope things stay that way (you never know about that shit these days), or things might get kind of awkward.

 

Hey Warchief,

So, crossbow to your head, what do you think – Mylune or Garona?  You know what I’m askin.

–Backstab Bladeflurry

Okay, so before I answer your question, Backstab, I have to ask.  That’s your name?  Seriously?  Backstab Bladeflurry?  I mean, I KNOW that can’t be your ACTUAL name, because I don’t think ANYONE could hate their kid that much.  But you know, the thought that you made up a name for yourself, and that’s the one you came up with…that might actually be even sadder.  Seriously, dude, how old are you?  Because that sounds like the kind of name you would get if you let a 10-year-old name himself, assuming “Videogame K. Dinosaur” was already taken.

Also, I’m guessing you’re…what…a rogue?  Gonna stick my neck WAY out there.  Come on, man, if you’re going to make up a name for yourself, it’s bad enough you’re making it a stupid-sounding name.  But a stupid-sounding name that’s just a list or your class abilities?  Come on.  Do you think people would take me seriously if I went around introducing myself as Overpower Heroicstrike?  Or maybe Saurfang could start calling himself Cleave McCleaveyouagain?  (To be fair, he might possibly be able to carry that off.)  Or, hey, Liadrin is a paladin, maybe she should start calling herself Holy Divine Light Shield Shock Hammer Flash Righteous Hand.  Really, the only time that kind of a name even kind of worked was with Rend Blackhand, and look how great things wound up going for him.

Anyway, I just had to get that out of my system.  Now for your question.

No.

 

Dear Warchief,

I’m writing to ask if you have any idea why people keep trying to kill me.  I’m generally a fairly peaceful fellow, but random strangers keep coming into the inn where I’m just trying to have a drink and attacking me.  I don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re not leaving me any choice but to defend myself.  But I don’t understand why they keep doing it.

–Gamon, Orgrimmar

Yeah, Gamon, I’ve heard the ruckus over there a few times, what with you having to lay the smackdown on some noobs every once in a while.  Gotta be honest, this one has me stumped.  I can’t think of any reason people might have for coming after you, you’ve always seemed like a pretty good dude to me.  Maybe… I know it’s kind of the pat to-go answer for people going all violent and hostile, but I don’t know, like…the Old Gods?  Maybe?  Dunno.

Good luck not dying, though.

 

Dear Warchief Hellscream:

I am writing to you on behalf of His Lordship, the honorable Tirion Fordring.  In the interests of saving time and paper, I have volunteered to write this note to you in the Highlord’s stead.

The Highlord appreciates the faith you demonstrated in entrusting him with the supervision of Dr. Edwin Faranell.  In that same spirit of good faith, the Highlord wishes to make you aware of certain oddities that have recently occurred involving the doctor.

The good doctor has generally been adjusting well to his new life here in Hearthglen, but the past several days he has experienced momentary bouts of disorientation, in which he has become briefly confused as to what is going on around him.  Following these episodes, he has claimed to have experienced what would seem to be a kind of hallucination: seeing and hearing events transpiring around him that clearly did not occur.

The Highlord suspects that the doctor is suffering from some sort of mental distress as a result of the radical change his life has undertaken.  Lord Fordring is quite concerned about Dr. Faranell’s well-being, and would welcome the opportunity to discuss this turn of events with you further.  We have faith that we may yet guide the doctor to a successful acclimation to his current time and place.

–Daria L’Rayne, Argent Crusade

Oh crap, here we go.  I’d hoped that Faranell would be able to settle in without any problems, but I guess that was wishful thinking.  I can’t say I’m really surprised that he’s kind of shellshocked by the whole thing – I mean, if YOU woke up one morning and all of a sudden it was years later, and half the people you used to know were dead, and the other half were zombies, and whole dominions had risen and fallen, and spirits know how many other things had gone down, yeah, you’d probably have a hard time just walking that off, too.  I know I would probably shit a brick.

So, I guess I’m going to need to take a trip over to Eastern Kingdoms again to go see Tirion.  I wonder if there’s any way I could get this Daria chick to hold the info session rather than Tirion, though – she seems like she would probably be a lot less painful to talk to, not least of all because I’m pretty sure this letter would have filled up about 37 pages minimum if it were Tirion writing it.  Damn good thing he’s got a logging camp right nearby, considering all the paper he probably goes through, is all I’m gonna say.

So, yeah, I’ll have to see about getting that trip lined up.  That said, though, seriously, I was just OVER in Eastern Kingdoms like two days ago.  Would it really KILL people to time these crises so that I don’t have to go zig-zagging all over the map?  So fucking inconsiderate.

 

That’s all for this week.  I’m going to try to be a little more consistent about posting mailbags, so keep those letters and questions coming – first because it’s always good to hear from my loyal readers and minions, second because I’m always happy (well, usually happy…well, sometimes happy…okay, okay, occasionally it doesn’t totally piss me off) to answer your questions, and third because YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS IT.  Send those letters to me at garrosh1337@gmail.com, and I’ll do another roundup in a couple weeks.

A sort of homecoming

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , on July 14, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

 

It took some doing, but we managed to get Faranell somewhat calmed down.  Since he woke up, Liadrin’s been the only one who’s been able to approach him with any success, so after we received the buried letters from Southshore, I had her go to deliver his.  After that, we left him mostly to himself for a couple days, because seriously, the reality of the situation is more than anyone could be expected to digest.  Last thing he needed was to have extra people coming at him while the whole world was going topsy-turvy.  I can’t imagine what it must be like trying to come to terms with everything he’s just gotten dropped on him.

The only break in his seclusion came after the first day, when he asked Liadrin to let him see what had become of Lordaeron.  She was smart enough to send word over to the Undercity to have them clear everyone out of the upper ruins – she figured the sight of what had become of the city would be enough for him to try to deal with, without undead Deathguards wandering around.  When he finally went over, Liadrin tells me, he was viably shaken by the sight, and when they went into the throne room, he just knelt by that little blood stain on the floor – the one that nobody has ever bothered to clean up FOR WHAT REASON I CANNOT IMAGINE – and just stared off into space with his head tilted as if he was listening to something.  He finally pulled himself together and asked to go back, in a voice that was barely audible.  He hadn’t talked to anyone since then, until this morning.

While that was going on, I was working on what to do about his situation.  He can’t stay in the Undercity – it would be cruel, for one thing, to try to make him live there, or in any of the towns held by the Forsaken now, considering what he remembers them being like, literally just a few days ago from his point of view.  Plus, I don’t much like having him somewhere filled with Sylvanas’ people, considering her first reaction to learning about the new-old Faranell was to refurbish him to be closer to the other model.

Orgrimmar would be safer for sure, and I could personally make sure he was being watched out for, but that’s not such a hot option either.  Considering his most recent associations with the orcs, I’m thinking he’s not going to get comfy living in an orc city anytime soon.  And I mean, yeah, sure, I’m all about the orc pride, but not even I would expect him to be able to swallow, basically, “So, yeah, about all that shit we did?  We were kind of going through a thing.  We’re a lot cooler now, really.”

So, I finally came up with the best of a field of less-than-ideal options.

This morning, I picked up Faranell and Liadrin in Brill, and made the trip east to Hearthglen.

Between a good word from Eitrigg, and some paladin-speak from Liadrin, Tirion agreed to bring Faranell into the fold and help keep an eye on him early on.  We’ve given Tirion the rundown on Faranell’s story – I swear, the part where I was explaining how future-Faranell rigged things might have been the only time I’ve ever seen Tirion go speechless – so he knows what’s going on and what’s at stake.  Tirion and his Argent Crusade people still have plenty of work to do cleaning up the Plaguelands, so he’ll be able to put our boy to work helping with that.  More importantly, Hearthglen is mostly a human town, he has family there, and it’s a pretty insular community, which should limit a lot of potential problems.

I had a short meeting with Tirion when we brought Faranell up there.  He’s agreed to watch over him and keep us updated if he runs into any major wrinkles.  Eventually, once Voice From the Past gets settled, we can see about taking him around a little so he can see more of the world as it is now.  But that won’t come until he’s ready.

While I was there, I also had to give Tirion a little shit about his kid making life more difficult for us while we were in the past.  Once we were finished talking about Faranell and I was getting ready to go, I was like, “Oh, by the way, your kid is a dickwad.”  Tirion just kind of looked at me a minute, and then he pointed out that his son died a few years ago, killed by Isilien, in fact, after the kid came to his senses about the Scarlet Crusade.  So I took that in for a minute, and then I corrected myself: “Your kid WAS a dickwad.”  Fucking nit-picking Tirion.

I can’t really complain, though, since for once he didn’t seem all that ramped up to talk my ear off.  Part of it was just the shock of hearing Faranell’s whole story and trying to absorb it, I’m sure, and part of it was the fact that we had business to go over that involved him getting information from us more than vice versa.  Plus I think he had a meeting with Bolvar or something later today, so for once he was able to go about his business like people actually have things to do with their time.

Anyway, that’s done.  I’m back in Orgrimmar now, and Faranell’s off in Hearthglen getting settled in.  Hopefully he’ll be okay once he gets adjusted.  In a way, you kind of have to be jealous of him – I mean, how many people basically get to skip over the part of their lives that sucks?  At this point, like our old Faranell said himself, the future is wide open for him.

Good luck, Edwin.

 

[Header image provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate, used here with permission and many thanks.]

Argent Gossip Girl

Posted in EPIC VERSE with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 11, 2011 by Garrosh Hellscream

At long last, a little something for you to enjoy while I go look into matters in Feralas.  My latest creation, BECAUSE YOU DEMANDED IT!

 

High Argent Confessor,
They call me that these days.
Once I was just Paletress,
No difference either way:
Just a simple Elwynn girl
Who joined the Argent Dawn;
I heard what would await me,
And baby, I was gone.
Truth is, I was not inspired
By service to the Light;
Nor did loathing of the Scourge
Compel me to the fight.
But to be a confessor?
To hear folks’ guilt and hurt?
I’ll comfort countless weary souls—
And hear some juicy dirt!
Confessions are in secret,
But wine is like truth serum;
And since you’re buying, between us,
I guess that you could hear ’em.

* * * * *

Mighty Warchief of the Horde,
Thrall: admired, revered, adored.
Blue-eyed orc,
Still a dork,
Way too straight and narrow.
Goody-two-shoes to the last:
Too few scandals in his past;
Worth adoring,
But so boring!
Straight A’s at Caer Darrow. 

You should have some better stories,
Tales of blood and rage and glory!
Not a one?
You’re no fun.
Such wasted potential!
Green skin marked by fiendish fel stream;
Kill a pit lord, raise some Hellscream,
Drink and brawl,
Listen, Thrall,
You need badass credentials!

You’re a mighty shaman, true,
But people won’t be scared of you
When as bad
As you’ve had
Is library past-due.
Kick some ass and take some names.
Give me something; this is lame.
Clark Kent, drat.
(Wait, who’s that?)
Green, but you can work blue.

To be fair, such trials to weather,
You had to have your shit together.
Freed the clans,
Fought the man,
Birthright to reclaim, huh?
Maybe memory’s mildly muddy
From being Saurfang’s drinking buddy?
But if not,
Well, nice thought.
At least, hey, you banged Jaina.

* * * * *

Muradin,
Where’ve you been?
Hiding with the Frostborn.
Tale belied:
Thought you’d died
When the prince found Frostmourne.
Pain and grief,
Such relief
To know that you’re not dead.
Slick respawn:
Mem’ries gone
From when you bonked your head.

At least that’s what you tell them now.
Cover story?  Yes, and how.
Luckily
You come to me
To unburden your spirit.
Really you just wanted out
From all the guilt and fear and doubt;
Plagued your mind,
What they’d find
And what they’d do to hear it.

Back when Moira went away
Dragged to BRD, they say.
Thaurissan
Was the man,
At least you let them think.
Now she’s joined the Dark Iron coven,
Little dwarf bun in the oven,
But forsooth,
Want the truth?
You’d better grab a drink.

Bronzebeard scandal – yeah, you guessed it.
You two went and straight incest’d it.
Yes you did.
Dagran’s kid?
That tale is kind of fishy.
She went hiding in the depths
While you by arctic winds were swept:
Better dead
Than inbred,
Except you’re not that squishy.

Muradin!
What a sin!
Knocking up your niece.
When he grows,
Has twelve toes:
A conversation piece.
Self-exiled,
So reviled,
Punishment exquisite:
Chaste you’ve kept
(Well, except
When Jaina came to visit).

* * * * *

Tirion the Argent Highlord!
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.
Truth be told, I cannot afford
Losing this job; so do I dare
Spill the beans on Fordring?  Listen—
When we blab, he takes our heads off.
But I see the wine glass glisten—
Top it off once and all bets off.

Just a little more,
Pour it to the brim.
Here’s what you came for:
All the dirt on him.

Holy Light, that man’s insane!
Really, you would never guess it.
Hunting penguins with a cane—
Half the time he’ll even bless it.
Every day he staggers in
Angry-drunk and spewing rage.
Let him spot you, he’ll begin
To curse you out and act deranged.

Did I tell you what he did
The one time Eadric raised his voice?
Let’s just say he can’t have kids:
Eadric’s not “the Pure” by choice.
He steadfastly will refuse
To dine without his lucky mittens;
Mention Arthas, blow his fuse,
And he’ll go set fire to kittens.

If you are a lass
Don’t give him the chance
To grab at your ass.
(He won’t let me wear pants.)

I love the stories that I hear,
All the scandals, sleaze, and strife;
But I swear with Tirion near
I honestly fear for my life.
He’s unstable, he’s a loon,
Loud and lewd with vices diffuse.
Hunting Scourge and hunting poon:
Talk to Jaina.  (Daddy issues…)

* * * * *

Honored heir of House of Wrynn,
Varian, where to begin?
Stormwind’s king,
Touchy thing:
Temper, temper, sire.
First Cathedral of the Light,
Robs the coffers, then takes flight.
Just you wait,
Off’ring plate:
Empty.  Yep, it’s dire.

Why so angry?  Why destroy
The Church he’d served as altar boy?
Years ago,
Don’t you know,
Reading age for Highlights:
Benedictus, pastor then,
Spotted one young Varian,
Oh so sad,
Showed the lad
An early Hour of Twilight.

Ever since then, he’s been damaged;
Bloody miracle he managed
To perform
So was born
A son to House of Wrynn.
Don’t know how hard Tiffin tried;
Virginal king since she died.
Jaina?  Nay.
That fine day
Was saved for Anduin.

(Fuck you, Varian.)

* * * * *

No more wine?
Okay, fine.
No more stories, then!
Change your mind?
Till next time!
I’m sure we’ll meet again.

When you pour,
I’ll tell more.
No need to make a fuss.
But don’t fear,
Jaina dear,
That weekend’s between us.

 

EPIC VERSE!

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