Welcome to the Rofling Officer Productions blog, where you will mainly find extremely cynical reviews by a British Stereotype (usually with my good friend, John Smith). These reviews will most often be of games and films, but also have a few little projects.



Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Diary Of Pordit Bronzebeard: The Final Chapter.

August 14th:

Jonith and I finished in Northern Stranglethorn and by then I had grown restless. I couldn't stand waiting around training for the final fight with that traitor Magni, so Jonith and I agreed to go to Darnassus to get the Night Elves' help. We were both NOT looking forward to this, as I hate Night Elves (bloody tree huggers) and the Gilnean/Worgen refugees live in Darnassus.

We had a lovely drink in Booty Bay, God how I missed a good pint of stout. Had a good chat with a Warlock in there, talked things over with him about me regaining my crown and what he was up to in the Vale. Finally Jonith said the ship was here so I said bye to the Warlock and managed to urge Betsy into a running jump to get on the bloody ship.

It was an overnight voyage to Ratchet, so Jonith and I slept on a couple of hammocks next to a couple of idiot sailers. Fell asleep quickly though.

August 15th:

Got woken up early by the cry of "Land ho!". That's become such a bloody cliche, they can't resist booming that one out. Jonith and I were happy to get off that tub, and into the port of Ratchet.

Ratchet is alright, not really keen on Goblins, prefer Gnomes really. But the Steamwheedle lot are alright, they sold us stuff and repaired my equipment. Gloin (my pet bear from Dun Morogh) followed Jonith and I all the way across the continent, I couldn't bring myself to abandon him.

The trip across the Barrens was brilliant. I was hoping to run into a few Horde scouts so I could kill them in cold blood, and I wasn't disappointed. Got to a little camp where a few orcs were offering services. One had his face clawed to a bloody pulp, another has a sword-shaped hole in his midriff and the last has an arrow in the back of his head. The gutless little bitch tried running and screaming in Orcish, so I shot him. It was fun. Haven't killed a Horde in ages.

Rode across the Barrens. Even though it's been cut in half the trek is still as boring as hell. With the odd Orc wandering about it was tolerable, it was still crap though.

Reached the Ashenvale border and made camp near there. Had lot's of sand in my armour, so it was an uncomfortable night.

August 16th:

Woke up rather peacefully, if a little early. Nipped off for a piss while Jonith was still asleep, almost got some on my shoes when I saw the state of Ashenvale. About half of it has been cut down, and the other half is in THE PROCESS of being cut down. Now I'm all for industrialisation but come ON. I'm all for the Night Elves here.

Jonith woke up and we carried on. Jonith noticed the tree thing too, but by that time I had gotten used to it so I didn't listen to him. Was brought back to my senses however when we reached Astranaar. There were Horde pilots riding those bat things all around, throwing down fire or something. Jonith and I were angry, but didn't want to linger long.

Moved on to Darkshore, but not before being confronted by a clearing in Ashenvale that was on fire. Didn't really understand why, but I couldn't be arsed fighting the fire lord thing. Don't think it was Ragnaros somehow.

By this point I was tired and pissed off, but we had reached Darkshore and had another couple of hours' ride until Auberdine and the ship to Darnassus. Reached Auberdine though, and found it completely destroyed by that bloody Deathwing. I'm getting bloody sick of this Cataclysm, it may have helped my escape from prison but its bloody annoying otherwise.

Took a hyppogryph from Darkshore to Darnassus. I still hate that bloody city, what's the point in building a city in a tree, just burn the tree down. That's why Ironforge is great, I'd love to see the Horde burn down a mountain!

It was late, so Jonith and I got rooms in the inn after listening to a load of Night Elf kodo-shit. Fell asleep quickly.

August 17th:

Jonith woke me up early to say he was going to see the Gilnean refugees. I thought this a bad idea as I knew he'd spit on them or something (he hates worgen). He insisted that he go before we see Whisperwind, so I reluctantly went with the stubborn bastard, haha. I was right, he spat on the first Worgen he saw. We were lucky we weren't ripped apart.

He changed his mind on Worgen when he saw his sister though (fine looking too). He had a lengthy chat with her, talking things over about his family (Light have mercy), I couldn't listen that much, his sister was VERY good looking, haha.

Something changed in Jonith then, he no longer hated Worgen. In fact he was hell-bent on becoming one! Pah! I think if you'd willingly take the Worgen curse you SHOULD be thrown back in the Stockade. No that's awful I can't think like that. He saved me after all.

He was telling me about how he could help the Gilneas Liberation Front in... liberating Gilneas I guess. I couldn't be bothered telling him how crazy he was so I just said "let's see Whisperwind first." Thankfully, he agreed.

Had to walk up a big bloody tree to get to Whisperwind and Stormrage (not evil one). Was annoyed and tired when we got to them. Quickly changed my mind however, when they reacted much more warmly to us than the other Alliance leaders. They knew of Magni's treachery, but they regretfully couldn't give us any troops. The reason, they said, was because Mount Hyjal was kicking off again due to the Cataclysm. I accepted this, just a little disappointed. The burning desire for revenge was replaced with the acceptance that it will end soon, just without the Alliance's help. This resignation will help to fuel my courage in the times ahead.

The Ambassador from the Draenei refused our help too, more preoccupied with the fight in Outland apparently (not sure how when Illidan and Kil'Jaeden have been bloody defeated). Stormrage did gracefully offer the services of Darnassus for free, which was very nice of him.

Jonith and I bought some food and water, had a drink of stout and set off once more. This time we agreed that we should go to Lordaeron as soon as possible and seek out the help of the Argent Dawn.

I came up with a really stupid idea to get to Lordaeron: Sneak through Orgrimmar to get to the zeppelin that goes to the Undercity. It was an idiotic idea, but we couldn't think of anything else. If we took the boat from Rutheran to Stormwind we'd have to go through Khaz Modan, and security has been tightened up. There are guards everywhere, looking for me specifically. Going through Khaz Modan would have been suicide, but then again, going through Orgrimmar is too.

The Elves let us take a couple of hyppogryphs to Azshara, and we made our way to Orgrimmar's back door. We killed a couple of travellers and put on their cowls. The hoods covered our faces well but not the shape of our bodies. We couldn't look less like members of the Horde. We got to the lift that would take us up to where the zeppelins are, but then our luck ran out. The guards noticed we were Alliance and pretty much all of Orgrimmar were chasing us. We got the zeppelin just as it was about to leave, so Jonith and I launched ourselves off the tower and clung to the back of the zeppelin. We left the Horde behind us, shaking their fists comically.

The crew were neutral Goblins, but there were 2 Forsaken guards on there. Jonith and I hid ourselves on the zeppelin, avoiding the guards as much as possible. It was a long night

August 18th:

Arrived in Lordaeron early in the morning, didn't want to go straight into the Undercity, so we jumped off the back of the zeppelin. Landed in a couple of bushes, so it wasn't fatal, just about anyway. I hate Lordaeron, it's horrible.

It used to be beautiful, when it was pre-undead, but now it's just a land of nightmares. I don't know how the Horde can accept the Forsaken bastards, they're clearly evil.

But before we went to see the Argent Dawn/Crusade, I proposed we went to see the last king of Lordaeron, King Terenas Menethil, father of the traitor Arthas. We would pray at his tomb for his blessing, then move east to the Plaguelands. This was easier said than done, as his tomb is directly over the Undercity, realm of the vile Forsaken. As much as I feared and Jonith insisted we would be found and killed, we prayed at his tomb undisturbed.

Newly invigored with Terenas and the Light's blessing, we moved south with great haste, Betsy galloping the entire way. We decided we were going to Gilneas to see what had become of it, then pass into Hillsbrad to resupply at Southshore...

The road to Gilneas was treacherous, with Forsaken all around us, not to mention at the Greymane Wall itself, where it was pretty much a warzone between the honourable Gilneas Liberation Front and the evil Forsaken. I will never forgive them after what happened at the Wrathgate.

Slipped into Gilneas and made our way to Gilneas City, where we saw that the 7th Legion had been there to help the Gilneans. Jonith and I felt happier at this, but that wouldn't last. We later passed to the city graveyard to see Jonith's ancestors.

As Jonith laid flowers on their graves, my thoughts turned to the future. Would my great-great-grandsons and daughters be laying flowers on a King's grave, or would they believe Magni's lies? As these thoughts passed through my head, Jonith broke down weeping.

We made our way to a nearby abandoned Gilnean house and slept there for the night.

August 19th:

Rode out of Gilneas as early as possible, as I knew Jonith didn't want to linger in the awful place. The ride through Silverpine was like a dream and before we knew it, we had arrived in the new Hillsbrad Foothills. The smell of Undeath lingered in the air, and the blight of the Forsaken was evident. Anger pulsed through my veins as we rode through the once human settlements.

We were looking forward to arriving in Southshore so we could at last rest for a few days, but we were greeted with a terrible sight. Southshore, once my refuge from regal life, has been utterly destroyed. The New Plague, the Forsaken Blight, covered the ground and destroyed buildings. We sobbed as we walked through the poor town, until we reached the inn, which amazingly was in perfect condition, on the inside at least.

I swear to the Light, by all that is Holy, I will gather the armies of Khaz Modan and MARCH ON THE UNDERCITY! FOR THE ALLIANCE! Rage was coursing through my veins, I felt like a Warrior.

We moved on quickly, going north to the Ruins of Alterac. We rode through Stahnbrad, which had been taken over by some cultists, and fought off a few ogres that now occupy the ruins.

Reached the border of the Western Plaguelands, at Chillwind. We set up camp just within Alterac, as I didn't feel too good about making camp in the dreaded Plaguelands. Soon, we would be fighting alongside my holy brothers, the Argent Crusade!

August 20th

Though Jonith didn't know it, I was secretly hoping I fell in battle with the Scourge with the Light's blessing, as I did not know whether my fierce hatred and anger at my nephew would not be forgiven by the Holy Light.

We arrived at Chillwind Camp, beseeching the assistance of the Argent Crusade, but they said before we could negotiate we needed to help Thassarian retake Andorhal. For the Alliance!

Arrived in Andorhal and Thassarian gave Jonith and I commands to kill a Lich called "Araj the Summoner". Glad that I would be slaughtering Scourge soon, we began to hunt him.

And that's where we're up to, we decided to write in here about past events while we wait for the Scourge fiend to draw near so we can ambush it. Can't wait to get out there and fire an arrow through his head.

Got to cut this short, I can hear him drawing near! If I should die, tell my family back home that I love them, and that I am no traitor. This is it, he's here...


(Dwarven blood splatters the diary)

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