The Warchief's Command Board

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

Dear Warchief,

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

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

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

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

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

Dammit, I’m making myself hungry.

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

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

Hail Warchief,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yours faithfully, 

–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master

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

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

…

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

So.

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

Lok’tar Warchief!

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

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

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

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

–Mirembe

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

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

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

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

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

Hey mon,

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

–Zim’bobwe, Sen’jinn Village

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Warchief,

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

–Disturbed In Durotar

Oh geez.

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

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

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

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

Good evening, wastes of life.

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s the thing.

And I can’t stress this enough.

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

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

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

I’m glad we had this little talk.

More soon.

Next mailbag May 4!  E-mail [email protected] or submit your message below: