#imperfect future

The goblin audio recorder lay on Rasmot's desk, a secret room underneath "The Lone Wolf's Tavern". He loaded in a new reel into the recorder and sat behind the desk with a bottle in hand. Rasmot adjusted the mic and leaned back into the wooden chair before breathing out a sigh and smacking the bottom of his drinking glass against the record button.

"Audio Log, Rasmot Hajra Aresh'felo. Yadda yadda, name, rank, serial number, I doubt anyone else might hear this at all. And really I need to get this out of my head before I start thinking about it too hard." Rasmot paused to take a swig of the alcohol he poured into the glass. "Between me and you whiskey, I might have already lost my mind. Now there's a thought . . . . a Bounty Hunter talking to a bottle of whiskey as though it could speak. Almost as bad as a Bounty Hunter running a bar but . . . if the boots fit." He groaned and set the bottle down on the desk.

"It all started with a simple thought, just one small thought. What are we going to do with what we learn on Draenor? Isn't it funny how it always starts with that? We go into a situation, guns blazing and when we're halfway through a conflict we start to think about the endgame. What if anything will this incursion teach us? Other than to never trust the spawn of anyone named Hellscream." Rasmot chuckled to himself before continuing. "What i mean to say is this. Ever since we have arrived on Draenor we have been fighting an uphill battle. Every day i hear more and more news about Iron Horde war machines, and Iron Horde cannons, and Iron Horde Iron stars, and tanks, trains, ships, the whole nine yards." He took another swig from his glass before he looked directly at it.

"So what makes anyone think that this technology will remain part of this "Iron Horde"? Oh sure, people like Khadgar may try to contain the balance of power by sinking ships with Super weapons to the sea but . . . we've barely scratched the surface of this Iron Horde. Everyone loves to assume that we've licked the Iron Horde good, however i don't think that's the case at all. And even when we come to that inevitable end, the solid conclusion to this whole mess . . . what will come of all those war machines?" The chair groaned underneath as he thought deeply for a few moments.

"They are after all only tools, and we've even begun to work out how they run and how they're built. So how long would it take before we start to see those same Iron Horde battle cruisers being manufactured at Orgrimmar? Or the alliance version being built in Stormwind? And that's just from the Iron Star technology . . . the true prize is not from the Iron Horde but from everything else." Rasmot set the glass down and plucked out a book from his vest. "The Draenei came from off-world, they came with their own machines and technology that had never seemingly been used in the capacity that it is now. And those machines use Arcane energy, from crystals within Draenor's very rocks. How long would it take us to make a similar version of that? Or for some group like say the Kirin Tor to take those ideas and make grander weapons of destruction? And that's only one area. There's even the whole ordeal with these Apexis." Rasmot rose from the chair and paced with the book in hand, looking over all of his notes.

"Nobody knows what happened to the Apexis, all that is known is that they were Arakoan. And that their technology was superior to anything that dwelt on Draenor at the time. Their technology harnessed the very power of the sun and infused it with magical energies, which was then used to make Automata. Golems that barely need recharging, that can last for thousands of years without any significant wear and tear, that can put Sin'Dorei golems to shame in their programming, nature, and raw power." He stopped and looked back to the glass on the table. "So why are we worried solely on just one group whose objectives we don't entirely understand, when there are in fact three groups of all equal mystery." Rasmot downed the glass and poured more alcohol before continuing.

"Right now the Iron Horde is a primary concern, of which we still have not yet fully understood what their driving goal is. When the old Horde invaded it was because Draenor had become a desolate rock, before it had been destroyed by Ner'zhul and his portals. So why is this Iron Horde invading, especially when it hasn't conquered it's potential foes? Anger? Malice? Arrogance? Or are they running from something or trying to prepare for something? They seem so transfixed on fighting an uphill battle that it goes beyond sheer Orcish fighting spirit, it verges on madness." He tapped his finger slowly before shaking his head. "There is a larger chess game at foot. And the Iron Horde has only become a catalyst. So if the Iron Horde is a catalyst then what becomes of the Horde and Alliance? Does this chess game use both sides unified against something else? Or does it pit Horde and Alliance against each other again to weaken both sides for someone else to sweep the board clean?"

Chuckling to himself, Rasmot swigged down his glass. "So then why are we contributing to the game? Every moment we fight the Iron Horde we learn something new, about some new foundry or new weapon or new invention or machine. And then we go to eliminate this item and in order to do that we have to understand it. Then once we do understand it we can reconstruct it to do the same job as it did before but better." He looked over to a wall which held a schematic for a Mana bomb. "Take the Mana bomb for instance, it's a weapon of mass destruction that can only be deployed by use of large craft. Were it not for Zeppelins then Theramore would not be a crater today. And where did we learn to make Mana bombs? we learned it from Outland thanks to the forces of Kael'Thas. And where did they learn it? Who knows maybe from Illidan or maybe from the Burning Legion." Rasmot took another long draw from his glass.

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"The best way to predict the future is to Google it".

- Andres Colmenares

Internet heavy-user