Recently there has been this massive eruption of creativity spurting all over our guild’s forums (I want to know what exactly are they all drinking?)  Machinimia, some fantasy writing and now a creative take on Icecrown Citadel, which I have begged and pleaded with the author to publish for all of you Dreamers. Its long but well worth the read!

You may know him you may not know him but now he is most definitely an unlikely hero “For the Horde”

The Bonzo Chronicles: written by Bonzo himself

WARNING : Contains rude words

Undercity

Ok, so there I am just mining and stuff, you know, doing my own thing, and my phone rings. It’s Mal.

“Hey Bonz,” he says, all casual like. “Enjoy your holiday?”

So I’m like, “Yeah it was cool. Mulgore is great this time of year, plenty of grass to eat, the quillboars aren’t too – ”

“Hey that’s great, glad to hear it”  he says, but he doesn’t sound so glad. Or even like he cared in the first place. “So listen Bonz, me and the guys were thinking…”

And I know what’s coming.

“Well, you know there’s the Icecrown place, right?”

Yes, I know. I tell him I know. He knows I know, but he carries right on.

“Ok good. So anyway, we were wanting to go take a look, you know?”

I know. I keep quiet.

“And since you’re one of the old boys, I just wondered if you were up for some killing?”

He says “old boys” like it’s cool, but it’s not cool. Because I’m the oldest boy. Not cool at all.

“Sure Mal,” I say, not really wanting to do anything of the sort. There are so many places I still want to go fishing.  But he’s a friend, so I play along. “Can I hit things?”

“Of course you can Bonz, haha!” His laugh sounds about as genuine as Haris Pilton’s boobs.

“With my two handed axe?”

“Well maybe mate, but actually…”

There’s a pause, probably for dramatic effect, but I know what’s coming. No amount of dramatic effect can polish this particular turd.

“Well mate, we thought that since you were the best at what you do – ” (nice touch Mal. Ingenuine, but nice. And slightly desperate sounding) “- well, we thought you could use your uber tanking skills instead.”

Almost pleading. So tanks are still in short supply, I see.

“Sure Mal,” I say, regretting the decision even as it’s coming out of my mouth. So many cooking recipes still to learn…

And so we arrange a time and a place to meet, and he hangs up.

Dalaran

“Hey Bonz!” The lads greet me. “Long time no see!”

“Yeah, long time,” I agree. It’s been a month.

“So you’ve been away then?” Saz asks. It’s like asking if I’ve been breathing all that time too, it’s so obvious he’s just making small talk.

“Yup.”

“So… you haven’t seen any of the new area yet I take it? Or upgraded any of your gear?”

Actually Magz I have, which is why I’m here now, to walk you through it with my extensive knowledge and experience.

“Nope, not yet.” I manage a smile, but my head’s killing me. I shouldn’t have met that blind date at Tarren Mill last night after all. She turned out to be a cow.

“So we good to go?” Mal asks.

“I thought you said 8 Mal.”

“I did Bonz, but it’s almost 8 and we’re all here so we may as well head off.”

“Well I’d like to get some gems and enchants if possible – may help my damage mitig – ”

“Naa Bonz, we’ll find us some better gear for you along the way mate, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but I probably also need some pots and bandag –”

“You worry too much mate,” Saz says. “I’m healing you, remember?”

Yes, I remember. I shudder a little.

And off we go.

Icecrown

So we get to Icecrown. It’s not a long flight from Dalaran, but my mount is nervous. The Cenarions are pretty cool with saving forests and all that, but they know from shit when it comes to training animals.

And it’s goddamn freezing in this place. I’m wearing my battlegear from Alterac, which I thought would be warm enough, but this is some other kind of cold. This is no-nuts cold. Feels almost magical. I hate magic.

And then I see it: the citadel. The place looks like some kinda S&M Barbie palace. This Lich King guy is one sick fuck.

We land and Mal has a quick word with one of his pals outside.  A human, no less. The guy has glowy blue eyes and it sounds like he has a battery shoved up his arse when he talks.  The guys shows us in. He wishes us luck and he disappears. I scope his gear, and it’s epic – dancing runes and shit all over the place.  And he’s too scared to enter the place? He thinks that me and my rusty old armour will fare better? What a wanker. I make a mental note about the human with blue eyes. Maybe I’ll meet him later. Maybe in Arathi basin. I don’t need a name. I mean, how many humans with fluorescent blue eyes can there be?

We enter the citadel

So I’m all chatty and throwing /jokes around to ease the jitters a bit, and then we turn the first corner.

My bowels loosen, but only a little bit. Nobody seems to notice, although yesterday’s chilli leaves it’s mark.

We’re confronted by some fellas – some large fellas – wearing a bit of armour and nothing else. Nothing. Not even skin. And they have moohassive fuck-off big axes. Bigger than mine even. And my job here is to get hit by them.

So Saz says, “Go on in Bonz, I’ll cover ya!”

Smarmy bugger. Anyway, one mustn’t appear foppish, so I go on in. That spirit healer has the loveliest boobies, so what the hell eh?

I headbutt the first guard in his axe. The second guard notices and smacks me with his axe. My axe flops about uselessly, applying it’s magical ‘devastate’ effect to every cockroach in a seventy yard radius, but missing the fuckers that count. I yell at the skeletons, hoping that’ll demoralise them a bit, but they decide I’m a pointless twat and go smack Magz instead. Magz yells at me – like I’m the one hitting him! – and I head on over to the far end of the room to try and save his sorry self. If only he didn’t cause such shit with blokes so much bigger than himself, he’d be fine. I kick the skeleton where his nutsack used to be and he crumbles. Mal cheers, like it was his kill. So the dead guy’s glowing purple, so what? In all the excitement I forgot about the first bad guy. He’s wailing on Saz, who has turned into a bear to take this guy on. I mean, wtf? I yell, this time calling him a fat bastard who’s mother lay with chickens. The skeleton lumbers my way and I strike him one mighty blow. Well, I would have if I was any good with axes. Another cockroach goes down. The skeleton crackles with blue electricity and goes down as Magz whoops. He has better gear than I do. So of course he did more damage in that fight. I’m disappointed, but I don’t show it. We look through the skeleton’s gear. One of them has some frostweave on him. The other has a nice pair of gloves – no good for me, but an enchanter friend of mine would be very happy to have the mats from it. Saz insists on taking the gloves. Greedy bastard..

And so it goes. We head deeper and the fights get easier. I’m getting braver by the minute. It has nothing to do with the people I’m partied up with – this is me being a killing machine.

Then we come to a door. Freaking LADY SYLVANAS is there, in a pair of tight-as-you-like leather trousers that makes me think of camels and hamsters all at the same time, and the way she holds that bow! She could hold my -

“Yes ma’am,” Mal says, and beckons us forward. I didn’t even heard her speak. I always miss stuff. I should get my ears checked.

Sylvanas with her sweet pert body opens the door. I bow to her as we enter, and I think she throws me a wink. Or maybe it was the light. Either way, I think I’m in with a chance. Chicks dig men in plate. So she walks into this room. There’s an altar in there, with all skulls around it, yadda yadda. We saw this in Blade’s Edge, it’s nothing new. We trashed that guy and we’ll trash this guy and take his shit. That’s what we do. That’s how it is. We kick ar –

I freeze. Well, more than I’m already freezing. This Lich King owns the world and he can’t afford to pay for heating? The cheap fuck.

Anyway, I freeze. Something ain’t right. Suddenly some old alliance guy appears. This place is full of the bastards! I make a mental note: ethereal old guy in yellow armour. I’ll see you in Warsong, old guy. He speaks to Sylvanas. Man, she is built so well. Those curves; the superior attitude; that pouty face, all dead but yet so fine…

And then he leaves, the alliance guy. And what happens next? Only the FUCKING LICH KING HIMSELF appears! He has words with Sylvanas. She’s at an angle now where I can just see the outline of her chest… But I can’t think about that now, the FUCKING LICH KING HIMSELF is here!

I look for the nearest entrance, somewhere I can accidentally fall off and onto a ledge, far enough to escape to another level perhaps, but not too far that I may actually injure something. Then as quickly as he appeared, the FUCKING LICH KING HIMSELF leaves the room again. As does Sylvanas. And we’re stuck inside with our dicks in our hands and nowhere to put them.

But there’s no time to mess about. More dead guys appear, more goddamn Alliance. I smack them, but more appear. And more. And MORE! I’m overwhelmed! I use every trick in the book to make them notice me, but to no avail. They hit my friends and they run around and they cause mayhem. Then I lose my cool. I’m the main cow here. I’m the guy who they need to pay attention to. I go into a rage. I burn them with a challenging shout that mentions their heritage in a less-than-complimentary light. It calls them to me. All one million of them, or so it seems. I’m in for a world of hurt, but I don’t care. It’s time to make a stand. So I hit them and I smack them with my shield, and I feel pain, so much pain, and then I feel sweet, soothing relief as Sazon casts a healing spell on me. I watch as Malignant sears the minds of the unbelievers. I see Magpawacar drop his totems and scald the fuckers with elemental lightning. I watch Sisika stab my target with a flurry of knife wounds so quick it looks like I’m 8 x fast-forwarding “Big Breasted Orc Babes Take It All Ways.”  And the mobs go down. I’m still in shock. Then I notice that one of them has a nice shiny weapon sticking out from under him. I pick it up and show it to the guys.

“Boss incoming, Bonz!” someone shouts, and I turn around just in time to see some massive motherfucker of a dead guy shoot past me and smack Saz in the face. The druid drops to the ground. Boss guy up and spanks Magz next, flinging him halfway across the room. Mal attempts to chain the guy with a spell, but to no avail. The boss cleaves him in two. Sisika disappears, the cheeky bastard, leaving me to deal with this behemoth. I figure “what the hell” and smack him, only I miss and he cracks me one on the head. At the spirit healer I try to explain that I was only trying to clear the room of anything that may trip us up later on, but I don’t think anyone believes me.

The guys decide that perhaps this isn’t the best idea, so we head back to Dalaran. I’m getting my gear repaired at the armourers (I’m an armorsmith, but can I repair my own gear? Nooo! Goddamn hooves keep getting in the way), when Magz says to me, “Hey Bonz – we need another tank for Icecrown – we’re going raiding mate, lots of people are keen. You up for it?” All I want to do is sleep, but I agree. I’ve let the guys down and I want to make it up to them. So I join their little group, just in time to hear someone say, “Surely we can get someone better than him, ffs!” I guess they’re still looking for more to join them.

So we all head back to Icecrown, but this time there are ten of us. We’re going to KICK SOME ARSE! But the group are all going into a different entrance. I have no idea where I am, having arrived late. A guy needs to go when he has to go. I quickly follow them. This next place is huge. They tell me the Lich King is in here somewhere, and I try to tell them he was in the other place, but they don’t seem to believe me. So we start hitting stuff again. They tell me what to hit first – I don’t have a clue, there are too many of these dead bastards around and they all seem to want us dead. Then at the end of a tunnel we find this guy alone in a room. Well, I say ‘guy’, but it’s actually another skeleton thing with spider legs. Fucking spider legs! I hate spiders.

And he has four heads, yet he doesn’t seem to see us as we walk into the room right in front of him. It’s a good thing all these boss fuckers in Azeroth have such bad eyesight.

Someone yells at me to hit the icicles, so I hit the icicles. I don’t ask why. I mean, icicles? Pff.  But they go down, melting all over the place. And then one of them hits me, spikes me right up the barking starfish. I feel pain, such cold and intense pain that I scream like a baby. Someone breaks the icicle, and I understand why it needs to be done. A stick of ice up your most sacred place is not your friend.

My eyes are still watering as the spider guy goes down. Everyone cheers. I try to appear jovial, but I’m wondering if I’ll ever watch “Big Breasted Orc Babes Take It All Ways” in the same light again. And then we head up some stairs and hit a few more bad guys. We don’t ask questions. Hell, they deserve it just for being here in the first place.

We turn a corner, and in front of my disbelieving eyes, I see a ship. Up here, in the fricking stratosphere, in an icy vat of hellish misery, a ship! So we do what anyone would do when confronted with a flying boat moored off a frozen citadel: we step on board. Some goblin bastard gives me a jetpack and tells me to put it on. What – do I look stupid? Well I do with a jetpack on. And maybe even without one, but that’s not the point.

Next thing I know, another ship pulls up alongside us and some crazy alliance bastards start shooting rockets at us! I fucking HATE alliance! So I stick the jetpack on and boost myself over to the other ship, and start wailing on a dwarf bitch with a gun. Just as I’m getting my rage on, Mal shouts for me to get the hell out of there. I look up and see this fat dwarf spinning like a bastard in my direction, crazy as a frog in a blender. I use the jetpack and jump back over, only to find a whole bunch of the alliance tossers back on our ship. I use my rage to good effect, even though our ship is burning and tilting and the whole world is shifting in front of me. When it comes to smacking people in the face I really must try to give my best. The ship finally stops churning and the alliance vessel buggers off. I lean over the edge and paint a small corner of Northrend a vivid shade of green.

Stay tuned for more Bonzo Adventures………

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