Archive for June, 2010
A traveller to Durotar might well ask “where does the wood come from for all these palisades and delightful covered bridges (which are a part of our Horde’s heritage)? There don’t seem to be a lot of trees in Durotar.”
Well, Jimmy – let’s pretend this visitor’s name is Jimmy – well, Jimmy, the story of Durotar’s wood starts far to the north, in the forests of Ashenvale. First, a seed is planted by wind and nourished by rain. Then, for hundreds of years, the growing tree is tended by elves, dryads and other spirits of the forest, reaching high up to join the great canopy of its elders. Then an orc comes along with a big axe and cuts it down.
And do you know what that makes elves, Jimmy?
Too slow, say the orcs.
The Southfury is the longest river in Kalimdor, and only one river surpasses it in length in all of Azeroth. It starts beneath the high plateau of Winterspring, fed in large part by meltwater as the massive drifts of snow native to that region fall through sheltered cave networks or roll down to lower altitudes. It marks the border between Azshara and Ashenvale, and over many thousands of years it has cut a deep, wooded gully to run through. If you have the misfortune of being clumsy and falling in to the Southfury close to its source, you have a very long swim ahead of you before you can climb out again.
I wouldn’t know anything about that, of course.
Well, that’s all very interesting. Let’s talk about the name, shall we?
First of all, the Southfury is entirely contained within northern Kalimdor; it ends in Rachet Bay, comfortably close to the continent’s centre of gravity. I suppose it does flow south, but I’m still irritated by this.
Second of all, there’s the fury aspect of it. You can tell it was named by orcs. I like to picture an orcish surveyor, bespectacled, calmly drawing topographical contours and marking the course of waterways, when all of a sudden the demon blood starts acting up. RAGE RIDGE OF RAGING FIERY RAGE, he scrawls across a gentle, grassy incline. FURIOUS FISSURE OF A THOUSAND SPIKED HORNS OF FURY; what Tauren would probably call “Nappin’ Pond”. The Orcish Surveyor blinks several times, his braids and beard all sticking out at funny angles, his glasses on vertically, a bit of drool on his doublet. Shaking his head, he goes back to tracing the contours of the Southern Azshara Reach, and Kalimdor is all the more interesting for his episode.
“I don’t eat pork.” -High Overlord Saurfang
He must get real hungry whenever he’s home in Orgrimmar, then, because most orcs don’t seem to eat much else. To say orcs appreciate porcs — sorry, pork – is like saying fish appreciate water; I’m sure if fish could speak, they would have a whole vocabulary for water, the particulates, the temperature, the sudden thrilling warmth of realizing you are downstream from someone’s al fresco micturation…
So goes the orcish fascination with swine. Contrary to myth, pig- and boar-meat is not a substitute for human meat (at least not for orcs; eating humans is more of a troll thing, and the price of good-quality human has gone up considerably since the Old Horde lost their war). Pigs have been the food of choice for orcs since they arrived on Azeroth and discovered that:
a) pigs will eat any old crap that’s lying around, so you can farm them in the middle of a war campaign waged largely in depleted land, and
b) the infusion of demonic ichor accomplished by Nerzhul’s warlocks left the prospect of, say, a nice salad, a trifle unsatisfying.