Cataclysm: The Siege

Helllooo.

I am Danger Mouse. I am Forssaken.

We met on the road to Wyrmrest - Ratters and the resst of us Hordies riding in from Venomssspite  in the East, Kinnavieve leading the Alliance team from Starss' Rest in the West. We both sstopped, looking at each other. Would this actually work? Sssure, we could all hang out together in neutral cities like Shattrath, drinking beer and ssinging songss, but could we really trust each other out here in the wilderness, armed and nervous? Then Ratters got off his noisy ssmoke-belching machine and walked over to Kinnavieve, who dropped down from her charger. They exchanged some words, too quiet for any of us to hear, then he tilted his head back and laughed that deep, rumbling laugh of hiss. Sshe threw her arms around him, and he hugged her back, lifting her feet right off the ground. They held each other for a few minutes, the rest of us quietly ssstanding, watching, unwilling to intrude. Then he set her back on the ground, they both laughed again, and we all came together, Hordiess and Alliance, smiling laughing and backslapping and hugging.

We were a Team. We had a job to do and nothing was going to sstop us. This crazy plan of Ratterss' was going to work.

It had too.

As we got closer to the tower, we gathered up ssome of the shattered remains of the Accord's outer perimeter, scattered like leavess after the Twilight Hammer's surprissse attack. We could here the battle now - drakes sscreaming as they fell from the sky, the deep crunch of rocks striking the dragons' citadel. We fell into a wedge formation - Ratsshag at the point, with Kinnavieve and Alayda beside him, the rest of us sword and axe types on the wingsss, and the casters protected in the center. The Wyrmresst Accord people did whatever it was losers did behind uss - they were not my concern.

The Twilight asssault was divided into three campss, and we fell upon the southern one - Deathwing's rock elementals - with fire and fury. They had no idea we were coming, and nothing breakss down into chaos and confusion like an army of elementals caught by ssurprise. They shattered before us, breaking and running. The Sshadow drank deep that day as we sslew hundredsss of them. The leader of the elementals, a big fucker named Morchok, tried to rally them, but we were having none of it. We drove our wedge sstraight through the remaining elementalss, and Ratshag's axe removed Morchok's head from his sshoulders.

The two remaining forces, both led by ancient facelesss ones, were prepared for us, but it made no difference.  Oozess, tentaclesss, faceless ones, they all fell before our blades. The leaders taunted us, sshouting in their elder tongue that we couldn't understand, but nevertheless ssomehow left doubts whisspering in our heads. We took casualties: Fink suffered a nassty gash to her leg, and Alayda was burned by an ooze that managed to knock her down, but both of them were able to pussh on. In the end, both warlords were dead, and the ssiege was broken. We'd fucking done it.

But it wassn't over. As Thrall and the Aspects were doing whatever it was they needed to do to charge the Dragon Ssoul, Deathwing played one last card to try to ssnatch victory from defeat. Ultraxion, a huge twilight dragon, dove out of the ssky and crashed onto the peak of the tower. "Don't let him reach the Asspects", shouted Kinnavieve. "Kick hisss arse!" added Ratters. He and Maurice got in the big nasty's face, keeping him pisssed and distracted, and the rest of uss surrounded him. His hide was tough as the thickesst armor, but it wasn't enough. Our sswords and axes and lightning bolts found the weak ssspotss, and Ultraxion, possibly the largest dragon ever to fly the skies of Azeroth, came up sshort. "But...but...I am...Ul...trax...ionnnnnn..." he wheezed as he sshuddered, twitched, and slowly sslid of the edge of the parapet to plummet to the frozen ssurface of Dragonblight.

And then the Aspectss stepped back as Thrall held the Dragon Soul over hisss head. It must have been fully charged, for it wass crackling with energy, tiny lightning bolts ssizzling over its ssurface and coursing up Thrall's arms. He aimed it at Deathwing, still circling the tower, and a blasst of white light shot out, straight for the Desstroyer's heart.

BRB, Gotta Go Save The World

Any you buggers remember a big-arsed glubbernudder name of Archimonde? Him an' his crew done partied the everlivin' crap outta Old Dalaran, then headed up Hyjal way. What happened to him? The orc an' human warchiefs, Thrall an' Jaina, along with Cairne an' Tyrande took they's forces, along with a buncha Vol'jin's lads, grouped up, an' knocked his punk arse down. Was the free peoples of Azeroth, an' they's leaders, against the demons an' undeads. An' they fuhggin' saved the world.

What we got now? Coupla dingleberries, Garrosh an' Varian, what be more interested in wavin' they's tallywhackers in each others' faces than they is in fightin' the real big bad. Commitin' they's best troops ta fight over a abandonized prison complex? Blowin' the mission fer ta send yer fighters ta chase after dwarves like a dog what sees a squirrel? Gimme a fuhggin' break. Meanwhiles, Deathwing sacks Stormwind, his minions burn Org, Azeroth dang near falls inta Deepholm, the big guy cruises the world toastin' anythin' what he catches in the open. I tried tellin' Garrosh he was worryin' 'bout the wrong dupperthunkers, an' he should be focusin' on how fer ta stop that dragon, but he weren't interested. 'Course, I mebbe could been a little more diplomatic, 'stead of tellin' him ta get them kodo droppins outta his skull or haul his cowardly hick arse back ta Nagrand, but I weren't feelin' none too charitables after watchin' the Earthen Ring's best and bravest buy the farm so's me and Thrall could deliver the Dragon Soul ta Wyrmrest. Kinnavieve done talked ta King Doofus, but she didn't have no more lucks with him neither.

Well, fuhg'em.

I done spent the past five years not onlies sharpifyin' me skills, but buildin' up a team of misfits an' loose cannons what know how ta fight. We ain't pretty, we ain't famous, we ain't the sort ya bring home ta mother. Unless mom works in some stinkhole in Booty Bay, servin' Uncle Bonechomper's Day-Old Piss ta retired pirates an' washed-out Shattrath cops, then ya mebbe ya does. But I digressifies. Me point is, we know what ta do when there be a dragon what needs killin'. Ya don't go struttin' aroun' town in yer Abercrombie & Mammoth outfit, talkin' 'bout how yer a bigger badarse than that dude in that other place. No, ya go kill the dragon. Or die tryin'. 'Cause someone's gotta.

As me man Hans Gruber woulda said, "Due ta the Twilight Hammer's Legacy of doin' the nasty with elder gods, tryin' fer ta destroy the world, an' drivin' volcanoes through the houses of amazinly virile orcs, they's about ta be taught a lesson in the real use of rage. You buggers will be witnesses."

Call Of C'thun

Has it ocurred ta anyone what the real purpose of LFR, where a larger number of heroes done comes in contact with the Old Gods' most powerful minion than evers before, every damn week, is ta grind down our SAN points until we all goes stark fuhggerbelly crazy?

I mean, seriouslies, pwhn'guul i ghawl'fwata ryiu wgah uul'gwan h'iwn guu'lal. Pwhn'guul i ghawl'fwata ryiu wgah uul'gwan h'iwn guu'lal.

Is Always Dangerous When An Orc Gets An Idea

Had me a vision on me way home from the Object-Oriented Cubicle Of Shame And Frustration this night. It were a vision of an association of folks, unconstrained by the restrictions of serververses or guilds, hooking up one night a week fer a insult-free, "gogogo"-free, afk-until-is-time-fer-ta-roll-on-loot-free, dps-meter-free LFR run. Is this possibles? That be a good glubbernuggin' question.

Blizz be implementin' Battle Tag, finallies acceptin' what me Real Name be Ratshag, and a lotta other buggers' real names be they's names too. Don't know how this gonna look when it gets ta Azeroth, though. Will we be able fer ta organize cross-realm raids with it? Right now, as I understandifies it, RealID craps out at five buggers, and if'n they keeps that limit then the vision be dead on fuhggin' arrival.

Next issue, of course, is would enough of you buggers be interesteds enough fer ta turn out, if'n I handled the (really fuhggin' minimal) logistics? I know this wouldn't be fer everyone, and structurin' yer time fer what would kinda be mostly a really big pug don't always work out, and is sumthin' what could fall apart withouts warnin', especiallies if'n we ain't ables fer ta get the right mix of folks.

I rather likes me vision, though, and I'd kinda like fer ta see if'n it could be made a reals. If'n Blizz makes Battle Tag the way it'd need fer ta be, and if'n there's interest. So I's runnin' it up the flagpole now, just fer ta see if'n anyone wants ta salute. (This ain't no sign-up sheet - I wouldn't consider anythin' stated here fer ta bindin' in any way shape or formula, so don't worries about leavin' yerself rooms ta wiggle.)

Rule Three Seven Two

Is time fer ta have a sit-down with a certain dragon and explains what drivin' volcanoes through buggers' houses is not civilized behaviors. Is a violation of Rule Three Seven Two, and as such, he done be requireds fer ta pay a penalty, as stipulatified by Rule. Three. Seven. Two.*

*Is like the Breaker's Rule Three Oh Three, onlies more epic.