Tech and Talk > Gaming > World of Warcraft > [ Lore] You Awaken In Razor Hill

You eye your bottles of Da Voodoo cautiously.

It's got a fancy label and an interesting bottle design and all, but now that you have time to get a better look, this stuff looks familiar.

You uncork one of the bottles and take a sni- oh Jesus god it's just Troll Sweat.

The fumes are sharper than a knife made entirely out of ammonia and they went right up your nose. You screw up your face in agony, your hands clasped over your nose and just sit there, shifting and squealing uncomfortably, staring up at the dome of Abyssal Darkness until the sensation that your sinus cavities are melting fades.

You really wish you could just complete an Action without somehow damaging yourself.

Mojo-y. Something Mojo-y. You look around. Oh hey, this My First Voodoo Kit might have something vaguely Mojo-y in it.

You place the Cardboard Box in your lap and carefully read the label.

'Be careful with this shit,' it says in large, friendly letters, 'This shit will kill you.'

Well then.

You very very slowly open the box and with meticulous care you lift out a very small pamphlet and a very small bag.

You open the pamphlet.

'Hello, friend!

We'd get into the usual pleasantries, but let's face it, your situation it must be pretty damn terrible, or else you'd never be reading this. Your Luck is garbage, you've been a hair's breadth from death since the moment you woke up and you've been sober for too damn long. Things look pretty grim, don't they?

Well cheer up! Hang in there, baby, we're rooting for you!

Enclosed is a complementary Bag of Wrathful Juju.
Be especially careful with it and be especially choosy with what you do with it, it'll only work once!

Good luck, killer! You're gonna need it!'

You stare at the small leather pouch in your hand.

It takes you a little while it before you can bring yourself to very carefully place it safely in your Inventory.

(Tednugent receives item: Bag of Wrathful Juju)

You seize the Pyramid Hogger Action Figure thrust it at the path to the North, leading to the Southern Junction and Razor Hill and grunt "HOO-AH". This doesn't seem to accomplish anything.

You hang on to it anyway, placing it in your Offhand.

At first you think it might be unwieldy to carry this thing around in your left hand all the time, but the moment you committed it to your offhand, it disappeared and then reappeared attached to your hip.

It's good to see some things are still normal.

You cycle through all of your Trackings - no changes. The Starving Amphibious Sharks are moving a bit quicker than they were the last time you checked, but they're still just drifting around down there, they don't seem to have made any motions towards the shore.

You can't see anything any more out of the ordinary than is apparently currently normal, nothing especially alarming or anything but man it is seriously starting to smell good out here. This pig is roasting up fine. It's a shame to leave it.

You cut a few Chunks Roast Pork off the Roasting Pig, figuring you can always come back for more, if you need to.

(Tednugent receives item: Four (4) Chunks Roast Pork)

Thus far, Hidden seems to have been the scariest Tracking, so you leave that one up as you prepare yourself for the trip back.

Please.

You are an Old Pro at Getting Away by now. Your skill in 'GTFO of Dodge' is somewhere in the vicinity of 790/450. The simple fact that you're still alive essentially makes you an honorary Resto Druid.

Scratchfever's been sitting next to you since you called him over. He is visibly pleased that you remembered about the Curious Tome in your bag, seeing as how he was quite prepared to claw the words into your shins if he had to.

Alright. Pet set and on Defensive, Health and Mana are maxed, got some bullets, got some food, got some Juju, got some direction. All you need is a little Liquid Courage and you might just pull through this okay. Things are looking up.

Let's see if this unusual string of good fortune holds out.

You attempt to Go North to Razor Hill.

........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........

The journey through the Abyssal Darkness trail to Razor Hill passes swiftly and uneventfully.

........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........ ........

You are now at the Outskirts of Razor Hill, praising every God you can think of for things that just work without having to be a fucking production.

You squeak out "Blind Mary?" a little tremulously, clear your throat and give it a little more timbre. "Blind Mary?" you call out, as manly as you can. You wave Mary's Quest over your head. "I think I have your quest. I just want to help."

There is no response.

Hell. Worth a shot, anyway, you guess. The old Undead Quest-Giver might live over in Duskwood, but you're pretty sure Hogger's not supposed to spawn anywhere near here, either, Pyramid-headed or not.

The second Scratchfever smells this shit, it's gone, so there's a bit of preparation in order.

First, you send Scratchfever off on his Razor Hill Perimeter Patrol Route to give yourself a little space.

Next, you gather up Orc Furniture from the Bunker and the Inn and strategically block up the Inn's front door.

Finally, you go upstairs (recoiling in the prerequisite horror from the Innkeeper's Corpse) and kneel down by the Tall Cabinet, fumbling with your bags.

You retrieve This (badly burned) Thing and its precious cargo from your bag, dig your fingers in until you can feel a Salted Fish Tail and close your fingertips around it.

You take a deep breath, brace yourself, count to three and whip the Salted Fish free, stuffing it into the Innkeeper's Corpse's mouth as quickly as you can before diving for cover.

The bare instant the scent of Salted Fish tinges the air, an almighty WHUMP shakes the entire Inn as a missile shaped vaguely like your Cat collides full-steam into the makeshift barricade you set up over the door. There is a sound like an enraged primordial beast that rattles your teeth in their sockets and the walls start to quake as you listen to him claw his way up the outside of the inn.

You throw your arms over your head, huddling down under the Innkeeper's Hammock as the wall trembles, wood buckles, glass erupts and your Cat takes out a fair portion of the wall in his zeal to tear the entire window out of its seat, roaring into the room like a flood of angry ghosts.

There is a horrible, rending sound like wet leather tearing apart and all at once, it's quiet. The storm has passed and Scratchfever is rolling around on the floor like a kitten, batting his hind legs in the air as he clasps the Salted Fish in his forepaws and chews contentedly. Just purring away.

The Innkeeper's Corpse has been - okay, you know what? You close the Tall Cabinet's door. There. The door is closed and you're not going to ever look in there, ever again, so there's no need to describe what's left of the Innkeeper's Corpse because you're just not ever going to open this door, ever again and that's all there is to it.

Whatever was in the Innkeeper's mouth (which you are absolutely not going to think about, ever), is lying on the floor nearby you. Yeah, that's definitely what you saw in there, but now that you get a look at it under the light, you're not sure...

You pick it up. It's leathery and kind of rough, like a shriveled - yeah, it's her tongue, you're holding her tongue in your hand right now, oh my fucking god what the fuck what the fuck.

You hurl it away with a disgusted yelp and stomp downstairs, wiping your hand on everything you can find. The Narrator is such a dick. Why is the Narrator such a dick? He does not need to be such a dick. It's just not necessary. You trip over part of your Mostly Destroyed Barricade, tumbling out the Inn.

You stumble in vain to get to your feet and a shadow falls right across you.

The only reason you don't soil yourself any further is that your last meal hasn't had enough time to digest.

The only reason you don't hurl yourself into a bullet-riddling frenzy is that it's a little girl.

You sit up. There's a little Orc girl standing right outside the Bunker. Smiling at you. Smiling right at you.

"I was born here," she says and there is an innocence in her voice, a childish joy for the sake of joy. Happy because there's no reason not to be. She has a big, beautiful smile and fine, long black braids.

"In that building, there," she says, pointing at the Inn behind you. "Momma said the world opened up bright when I was born. Right there. The best times of my life were here. I loved this place so much. I miss it."

She begins to walk towards you and with every step she ages, visibly. You watch her shed baby fat with every step, walking up from adolescence through puberty and into almost angelic beauty by the time she's near you.

And she is suddenly very, very near you.

"I miss it so much," she says and touches your face, becoming the first woman to do so without violence. "I spend all my days in the sun. You'd think I'd be warm," she whispers, winding her arms around you. "You'd think I'd be warm." Her lips are very close. "It's cold," she rasps, her skin blistering, cracking and splitting apart, her muscles withering and tearing as her flesh rots off her bones. Her fingers gnarl into claws and she seizes you, pulling you close as all the skin comes off her face.

"it's cold."

And just like that, she's gone.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod
JESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUS
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod
JESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUSJESUS
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Quest Log - 3/25

*1) The Warchief must be informed of this at once!

*2) Mister Monster Likes to Dance

*3) (NEW) Mary's Quest – Step One

She played in those waves. She loved them so much, losing herself in the joy of just running, just swimming, just being alive.

He watched her. He watched her with jealous eyes, jealous of her youth and beauty, jealous of her joy and love.

Jealous of her heart.

Find him. He knows where she is.

He is always watching her.

Don't give up now, Sport! You've a long ways to go and a lot between you and Salvation, but it's right there waiting for you!

Wanna go home?

So does she.

--Objective--

Locate Zalazane.
Mary's Heart 0/1

…......... …......... …......... …......... …......... …......... …......... ….........

Oh that. That particularly misguided tip was supposed to lead you to the Curious Tome sitting in your bags.

It took you a little bit before you got that one, but at least you got it before blood was shed. You don't see any real reason to enter the Bunker at the moment.

You already ate back up in Sen'jin! It'll be a little bit, but you'll be ready and able to soil yourself on command pretty soon.

The Blacksmithy back in Sen'jin. Right before you repaired your gear. Remember?

Jeez, you wish you'd pay closer attention.

The Naaru have forgotten you!

You're not getting near Scratchfever until he's finished with his Salted Fish.

He has a pretty Bad Habit of getting all weird and Murderously Territorial over it.

You elect to wait until he's done

While you're apparently just killing some time, you give the town another once-over, this time specifically looking for any kind of lockbox, safe, locker, something, anything that would be fitted with keys like this.

Bupkis. You can't even find a lock anywhere in the town.

Maybe you'll get banned for life. Oh god, you hope a GM shows up to ban you for life, you will soak his feet in devoted saliva on the spot.

This is not Troll Sweat.

This is a small, leather draw-string pouch with long, beaded strings. It growls faintly and ominously in your hand, as though there is a apocalyptic-force shit storm in there just waiting to happen.

This is about the single scariest thing you've ever held in your hand. Every time you move, it rumbles and judders in your palm, as if preparing itself to unleash several different layers of hell just for the indignity of being moved.

It's a bizarre feeling. You are holding something in your hands that will feels like it will either make the world into a better place or just tear the whole %#!!fucking thing apart..

You wipe a tear from your eyes.

At last, you are a true Engineer.

You eye the Bag of Wrathful Juju uneasily, lifting the Pyramid Hogger Action Figure.

You're pretty used to suddenly having god-awful ideas that fly directly in the face of common sense and personal safety, but this...

Are you sure you want to do this?

No, wait, you misphrased that; you don't want to do this.

Done and done.

Not that you particularly needed an excuse not to enter the Abyssal Darkness. You were doing that much perfectly fine without justification.

You suppose rationalizing it to more than a simple “it's really effing scary in there” makes some kind of difference.

You don't know where Mary is!

Puffy, puffy, puffy, puffy... ah, to hell with it.

You grab a couple of Hammocks out of the inn and a needle and thread appear in your hand as through conjured out of thin air.
With Great Skill and Enormous Ease, you swiftly stitch the Hammocks into a pair of Fishnet Parachute Pants. You deftly sew in lines of sequins, firmly set the hem and finally double-stitch the waistline for extra durability.

The needle and thread vanish from sight and you look around nervously, tugging the masterful Fishnet Parachute Pants up over your Mail Pants.

God, you hope nobody saw that.

(You are now wearing Masterwork Fishnet Parachute Pants over your Mail Pants)

Seeing as how you've nothing better to do, it's time to-

AW YEAH BABY HUH CATCH THAT MOVE THAT MOVE IS FOR YOU

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE

You look around expectantly and nothing happens.

Damn it all, that freaky bastard shows up and stops the entire world from turning for Winona fucking Ryder on command and he leaves you hanging?

There is no Justice.

You rub your chin. Seems like the game wants you to go back to Sen'Jin, to the Echo Isles, but honestly, you're getting a little fed up with just about everything about this game. Seriously, her tongue? Why the fuck did the Narrator even bother pointing out there was something in there if it was just gonna be her tongue?

Scratchfever seems done with his Salted Fish and moseys contentedly over towards you, all suave and relaxed. He nuzzles your hand and you give him a good scratch behind the ears.

Time to go someplace.

Where to?

You shake your head, dumbstruck, and do not even attempt to answer this question, for fear that 'the worst' might happen just for the hell of it.

You do remember those horrible flying worm things were called 'Lesser' Ravening Worms, right? You don't know about you, but that little tidbit has been stuck pretty firmly in your mind since the last time you soiled yourself.

Nonetheless, the Valley of Trails. You remember that place pretty fondly, actually, a pleasant, peaceful little valley, nestled away within the Mountains of Southern Durotar. You have a lot of happy memories from that place, smacking Lazy Peons around, stomping all over monsters that were significantly weaker than you, just having a grand old time.

Might be worth a check, but Sen'Jin's on the way, so-

God. A Warlock is just what you need right now, right?
You shoulder your rifle. If you see even one of those Fear-spamming sons of #!!bitches, you will personally unload your entire ammunition supply directly into his junk.

Okay. You've been really lucky about this lately and you are right now praying that that luck holds. You make sure Scratchfever is following you, check all your gear and your health and your mana and begin to Go South towards Sen'Jin

............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. .............

You are on the Southern Trail through the Abyssal Darkness towards Sen'Jin. The Southern Junction is up ahead, leading East into Tiragarde Keep. Your path appears unobstructed, and you continue travelling south freely.

Thank God for small favors.

As you walk, you ponder, carefully, precisely where you should go next. Mary's Quest is pretty clear about where you need to be, but there's no time limit on Quests, is there?

Mary needs your help and Mary was smoking hot before all her skin came off.

To Zalazane!

Then again, all her skin did come off and when it did she got real ugly.

Fuck her, there's a chance to get gone and you are taking it.

A my name is Anklebiter
And my wife's name is Auriya
And we come from Aggronar
With a cart load of apples

B my name is Blitzkriegelf
And my wife's name is Bloodstorm
And we come from Borean
With a cart load of bananas

This is so much fun!

You punch yourself in the face, really really hard.

When your eyes clear, their focus is plain. You must be here for some purpose and you have no reason to believe this game will just let you go until you've fulfilled it.

The Echo Isles. Zalazane.

Mary's Quest. Somewhere out there is an Orc woman in pain. You cannot permit this. You will not.

Alright then.

Sen'Jin.

You affix the Possible Fire Hazard Torch and the Highly Explosive Torch to the Deadly Fishhook Flail.

(Tednugent receives item: Flail of Certain and Indiscriminate Doom)

And it's so damn firm, too, you wouldn't think they'd get that much exercise in the rump-region, seeing as how they just flap around all the time, but seriously, firm, like a...

Wait, what were you talking about?

Safety, that's what we were talking about. You remove your Fishnet Parachute Pants, placing them in your Inventory, and put your Cactus Costume back on.

God, it's hard to move in this thing.

Well, the Narrator is clearly a twisted motherfucker who is apparently getting off on your sheer terror, but you're still alive thus far, so you suppose he might possibly have your best interests in mind.

That or he's just waiting until your demise would be really funny.

............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. .............

You arrive in Sen'Jin village and are at once enormously pleased that you are wearing your Cactus Costume.

You sink down to your knees, hold your arms out to your sides and Desperately Emulate a Cactus for all you are worth, urging Scratchfever to go into Prowl.

Yeah.

Wow.

Sen'Jin Village is infested with Starving Amphibious Sharks.

You can finally get a good look at them and immediately wish you couldn't. For one thing, they're huge fifteen-foot-long and squat, their bodies flattened down to the ground and slimy. Slimy. They're just constantly dripping with some kind of viscous gunk.

In place of pectoral fins, they have thick limbs like tree stumps, squat and webbed and slimy and terminating in very large, serrated claws. They have no hind legs, awkwardly dragging their long tails through the sand. Their mouths are gigantic, the absolute worst combination of Shark and Frog, their jaws hinged all the way back by their thick, muscular shoulders.

They have very small eyes located on the tops of their heads. It doesn't seem like they can see very well, they're just blundering around wrecking the whole place, awkwardly dragging themselves in and out of buildings or just chewing through support posts, sending the huts toppling down. Two of them are in the process of obliterating the Skinner's Hut, just shredding and swallowing everything they can find. The Inn and Blacksmithy are already wrecked.

They've skeletonized your Roast Pig.