#blamerades

My first thought upon hearing Garrosh’s sound files

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 18:15:00 -0700

My first thought upon hearing Garrosh’s sound files

I’m 25 seconds into the Garrosh sound files and already depressed

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 18:10:35 -0700

I’m 25 seconds into the Garrosh sound files and already depressed

rochejii: Where do Reese and Cyrus get all their...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 00:21:43 -0700

rochejii:

Where do Reese and Cyrus get all their money???

Screenshot source

latinwords: So we were talking about how every Wranduin AU is...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 22:20:23 -0700

latinwords:

So we were talking about how every Wranduin AU is too damn shmoopy.

Kat: It makes me want to draw really bloody or soul-crushing art

princess.magnificent: Or both?

Kat: wrathion comforting a really old dying king anduin

something awful

princess.magnificent: Anduin standing over the corpse of the mighty evil black dragon he’s just led the Alliance in slaying, staff falling from his hand as he says, “I thought you were different.”

Kat: asdf hahahaha

princess.magnificent: You draw it, I’ll write it

Go on then, woman.

Photo

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 17:59:36 -0700

Fabuland

Fri, 14 Jun 2013 22:25:07 -0700

Presenting the new town flag of Fabuland:

My guild’s first kill of Durumu. We’re good at this...

Fri, 14 Jun 2013 15:09:39 -0700

My guild’s first kill of Durumu. We’re good at this game.

And full credit to the special music in this video goes to Narci.

Photo

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 18:04:00 -0700

kiango: GARROSH HELLSCREAM CONFIRMED FOR BRAWL

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 16:18:45 -0700

kiango:

GARROSH HELLSCREAM

CONFIRMED

FOR

BRAWL

Photo

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 13:06:41 -0700

Kor’kron Arcweaver– Kor’kron Arcweavers have mastered the arcane arts. Unstable Blink – Teleport 1-2...

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:27:00 -0700

Kor’kron Arcweaver– Kor’kron Arcweavers have mastered the arcane arts.

Unstable Blink – Teleport 1-2 times in a random direction.

PTR: All of the boss abilities in the Siege of Orgrimmar are just Garrosh fan emotions. Lingering...

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:24:55 -0700

PTR: All of the boss abilities in the Siege of Orgrimmar are just Garrosh fan emotions.

Lingering Anguish
Endless Rage
Explosive Despair

I’m so glad the Villager is here to help us through these difficult times

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:09:52 -0700

I’m so glad the Villager is here to help us through these difficult times

coveredinbugs: IM SCREAMING

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:06:00 -0700

coveredinbugs:

IM SCREAMING

get off garrosh's dick already: The Corruption of Garrosh Hellscream (part 1?)

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 23:47:11 -0700

get off garrosh's dick already: The Corruption of Garrosh Hellscream (part 1?):

blamerades:

(based off this post)

“High Warlord Cromush, here to report to the Warchief regarding our forces in Silverpine.”

Garrosh glanced up and nodded slightly. He looked to the two Kor’kron standing by the door. “Leave us. I have private matters to discuss with the High…

I WISH but they’d be nothing but Garrosh and Sylvanas stories (or maybe Calder Gray).

Consider also that the eventual conclusion to this fic (discussed in the post) is essentially Garrosh’s closest, oldest friend betraying him in the worst way possible by using his inside knowledge of Garrosh’s insecurities and fears to quietly nudge him toward following in Grom’s footsteps and making the worst mistake in his entire life.

Imagine that realization going through Garrosh’s head in his final moments.

>_>

HOLD THE PHONE A NEW SKELETAL WARHORSE? DOES THIS MEAN SYLVANAS IS ENTERING THE PICTURE AGAIN

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 23:09:51 -0700

HOLD THE PHONE

A NEW SKELETAL WARHORSE?

DOES THIS MEAN SYLVANAS IS ENTERING THE PICTURE AGAIN

The Corruption of Garrosh Hellscream (part 1?)

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 22:48:00 -0700

(based off this post)

“High Warlord Cromush, here to report to the Warchief regarding our forces in Silverpine.”

Garrosh glanced up and nodded slightly. He looked to the two Kor’kron standing by the door. “Leave us. I have private matters to discuss with the High Warlord.” The guards saluted and dutifully obeyed, sliding shut the portcullis behind them.

Cromush entered, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim torchlight, he drew a breath in surprise. He had grown up with Garrosh in Nagrand, gone on countless hunts with him, fought dozens of battles. But in the years they had known each other, Cromush wasn’t sure he had ever seen his friend look so…defeated.

Heavy bandages were wrapped around his ribs, and one arm hung limp in a leather sling. Dark bruises covered nearly every inch of Garrosh’s torso, matching the welts scattered across his shoulders. He sat stiffly in the massive throne of bone and iron, as if any movement at all caused him pain.

But it wasn’t the physical injuries that shocked Cromush. The two of them had limped back from many a hunt, battered and sore after tousling with clefthoofs, talbuks, even the occasional ogre. Cuts, bruises, a broken bone or two - what orc doesn’t proudly bear the marks of these rites of adolescence? Even their sparring matches had often ended with a hurried trip to Garadar’s shamans, and a stern talking-to by Greatmother Geyah.

Cromush knew Garrosh was strong, that his wounds would not hinder him for long. Ever since they had thrown off the terrible effects of the Red Pox as youths, Garrosh had never again succumbed to sickness or illness. It was almost as if his body was constantly waging its own personal war against weakness, shouting “Never again!”

But this…this was different. Cromush could see it in his friend’s eyes. There was something missing. The spark, the ferocity, the drive that had driven Garrosh through the Lich King’s monstrous campaign and into the upper ranks of the Horde’s war effort…it was gone. Garrosh’s defeat at the hands of the Night Elf demigod - Cenarius, Cromush believed his name was - had sapped the raging, seething fire within the Warchief’s heart, extinguished it as surely as old Osrok quenching a red-hot axe blade.

The others here in Orgrimmar probably didn’t even notice something amiss, assuming their Warchief was simply in pain from the duel or angry about losing. A slight slumping of broad shoulders, a distant look in his eyes at times, a hint of tightness in the darkly tattooed jaw. They were tiny, minute signs, that not Eitrigg, not Nazgrim, not Krom’gar would ever have spotted.

Then again, they had only known the young Hellscream since Northrend, They had not grown, fought, and bled together with him for over three decades. They had not lain next to Garrosh, plague-stricken, helpless and weak on straw cots, waiting to die, their only company the others suffering the same excruciating malady.

But Cromush had.

Cromush saw these signs in Garrosh, and he recognized them, and it filled him with dread. They were familiar. After all, he had witnessed them for years, as a young Garrosh had slowly come to terms with his father’s legacy. The knowledge of what Grom had done, the atrocities he had committed - it had haunted Garrosh for years, filling him with self-loathing and insecurities. Nothing Cromush or the other villagers said could shake him from this depression, not even the comforting wisdom of the Greatmother.

But that had all changed the day Thrall arrived.

Cromush walked up to stand before the Warchief, saluting briefly. “You will be happy to hear that our efforts in the Eastern Kingdoms proceeded as planned, old friend. Silverpine is ours, the Worgen pushed back into their own territory or hiding in the bushes, and Ambermill has fallen. Our push into Gilneas was also successful, as was retaking the territory in Hillsbrad. Our stranglehold on the north grows firm, with Alliance troops being forced to operate out of loose camps in the Arathi Highlands.”

Garrosh grunted, his scowl unrelenting. The news was good, outstanding even, but Cromush knew that military conquests on the distant continent were the last thing on Garrosh’s mind right now.

“Warchief…” Cromush cleared his throat, but paused, giving Garrosh an expectant look. “Garrosh. My friend. My brother. There is no shame in honorable defeat, let alone to an overpowering foe…a demigod.”

“Shut your mouth,” muttered Garrosh, refusing to meet Cromush’s eye. “Before I…”

“Before what?” growled Cromush, stepping up to the throne. “This is not some Kor’kron lackey you are talking to, or some whimpering goblin afraid to speak his mind. This is me, Garrosh. You fought well. So did he. There is NO. SHAME.”

Garrosh stood and glared down at his lieutenant, both orcs tense, muscles clenched. One armored hand rose Gorehowl slowly from its spot beside the throne…and hurled it at the wall. The huge waraxe rang off the blackened iron, and thudded to the floor.

Breathing heavily, Garrosh shook his head, a grimace upon his face that Cromush knew was not from his wounds. “You do not understand, Crom. No one does. The Warchief does not lose. He CANNOT lose. Not against the Alliance, against the Scourge, against anyone!”

“But Garrosh…Warchief. Cenarius is…he is a demigod.”

“Bah,” snarled Garrosh, turning away and limping stiffly over to where Gorehowl lay on the floor. “Excuses. A god of elves, weak and cowardly. Besides, my father…”

Garrosh’s voice trailed off, but Cromush heard the words unspoken. After all, it had been Grom, Garrosh’s father, who had fought Cenarius before…and won, slaying the forest deity and driving the night elves back in horror.

“Garrosh, your father was a mighty warrior…but you know the history,” said Cromush quietly, knowing what a sensitive topic this was for his friend. “Yes, he defeated Cenarius, but only with the foul power of Mannoroth’s blood running through him. You cannot compare yourself with him. No orc can.”

Garrosh shook his head. “No, none of that matters, Cromush. What matters is victory. We are the Horde. We do not lose. We CANNOT lose. But I have failed in my duty. I have failed the Horde where my father did not. I lost.”

Cromush shrugged. “Then there is your answer. What’s done is done. Become stronger. Find a way to win. The Warchief cannot lose? Then let this be the last time Garrosh Hellscream suffers the indignity of defeat. You have the entire Horde at your disposal, an army who will die for you, and more resources and territory than the Horde has ever enjoyed before. Use them. Use US!”

“We have not lost faith in you, despite what you might feel. We still believe in the Warchief.” Cromush clasped Garrosh’s uninjured hand in his own, and held it to his heart, the way all Mag’har learned as youths to greet a respected peer.

“Lok’tar, brother.”

A few minutes after Cromush left, one of the Kor’kron leaned her head in, curious, but Garrosh waved her away. He wanted to be alone.

He walked to the center of the room and slowly took in the massive map stitched into the kodohide carpet, the armaments upon the walls, the huge throne of metal and bone that loomed overhead, the massive, tusked skull hanging proudly from the rafters.

Garrosh stood there in silence, alone, for a very long time. Thinking.

Okay was sitting on this bit of Garrosh fiction for a while now but I guess it’s time

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 22:46:20 -0700

Okay was sitting on this bit of Garrosh fiction for a while now but I guess it’s time

High Overlord Saurfang says: I won’t let you take us down that dark path again, young...

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 21:11:45 -0700

High Overlord Saurfang says: I won’t let you take us down that dark path again, young Hellscream. I’ll kill you myself before that day comes…

PTR 5.4 Siege of Orgrimmar Boss List

Tue, 11 Jun 2013 20:43:34 -0700

kiango:

shandrethlar:

Excuse me i’m gonna go cry

Read More

fucking awful.

clinging desperately to hope that Nazgrim is doing his part as a loyal soldier (because that’s what he is, first and foremost) and that he’s not evil or corrupted but just following military orders…

;_; BUT I DOUBT IT