|The subject of this article was removed from World of Warcraft in patch 3.0.2.|
|The True Masters (6)|
|Level||54 (Requires 48)|
|Experience||550 EXP (or 3 30 at level 70)|
The True Masters is the sixth so-named quest in the Great Masquerade quest chain.
You recall Marshal Maxwell telling you to search for him in a cave to the north.
- Ragged John's Story
What? You thought you were the first? How many soldiers must we lose before Stormwind acts?
We had accumulated enormous amounts of intelligence pertaining to the Blackrock menace before we lost our commanding officer, Marshal Windsor. With Marshal Windsor went all of our precious information.
What we need is that documentation. Speak with Ragged John, <name>. He was with Windsor when they were attacked by a Blackrock raiding party. He was last seen in a cave to the north.
Dialog: Ragged John's tale Edit
- What you be wanting? *hic*
- Windsor was paticularly ornery that day - and believe me, for Windsor, that's a monumental accomplishment. He kept telling me that 'something feels off.' Well he wasn't kidding!
- We were in the middle of Blackrock Mountain when the filthy animals attacked. I'm talking about the orcs, of course. Pay attention, will ya? All you could hear were the grunts and the clanging of steel as they rushed us.
- Me versus fifty orcs? I'm no fool, <Name>. My pappy always told me, 'Discreditin' is the better part of a cracker,' or something, and I knew what that meant.
- Alright, alright. Anyhow, so I sorta slipped into the shadows.
- That didn't sit too well with Windsor, seeing as how he was already extra cranky. Well he started spinnin' old Ironfoe around and screaming like a mad man at the orcs.
- Yep. You never heard of Ironfoe? The legendary orc slaying hammer? Yep, yep, that was ol' Windsor's hammer. He told me that Franclorn Forgewright himself made that hammer for his great, great, grand pappy. THE Franclorn Forgewright. The Dark Iron responsible for stonewrought archimetenc... building stuff. He also said the hammer had a twin that Franclorn kept for himself. Think he called it Ironfel or something.
- So where was I? Oh yea, so the orcs rushed Windsor and Windsor? Well, he didn't move an inch. He stood tall as they charged him, ten at a time. All I could see was the glow from Ironfoe and a lot of blood. This went on for hours, maybe days. I don't remember. Anyhow, FINALLY, it stopped.
- Died? Are you cracked, <Name>? Excuse me, [Mister/Miss] <Name>! Windsor wouldn't have died from no fifty orcs. As sure as Thelsamar blood sausage is the tastiest food in the world may ever know, there he stood: he was covered in orc chunks from head to toe, drenched in about eighteen layers of their blood, but he was definitely alive... and really, really angry.
- Why do you keep saying he died? Who told you he died? I never said he died.
- He went missing is all.
- You see, apparently we had gotten into the middle of some big orc versus Dark Iron dwarf battle. The orcs, being the filthy miserable curs that they are, were out early, setting up some traps and other diabolical things you probably wouldn't understand.
- Dwarves don't get drunk, [mister/missy]. I'm just a little sloppy.
- Anyhow, Windsor? I figure he's somewhere in the Blackrock Depths. That's the Dark Iron City for you unedumecated peoples.
- Slow down! I was getting to that!
- So there he was, standing tall with all the blood and guts dripping off him when who shows up?
- The Dark Irons! Didn't you hear a word I said??
- Well, the Dark Irons are a little craftier than those Blackrock Orcs. They came prepared. By prepared I mean there were about 300 of em... *hic* 'scuse me.
- [Mister/Missy], if I didn't know better, I'd think you were one of those 'special' peoples. We call 'em Troggs.
- Windsor didn't have no beef with the Dark Irons, after all, his great, great, grand pappy's best friend was a Dark Iron. Which is also probably why that army of Dark Irons didn't kill him on sight.
- Finally! Put some fingers in your ears, your brain mighta just grown five sizes and I'm worried it might leak out.
- So the Dark Irons spared his life and took him prisoner. Their leader, some self-important, took Ironfoe for himself. And that was the last I saw of ol' Windsor... *hic* 'scuse me.
I could have warned you, but what fun is that?
Upon completion of this quest you will gain: