Is all Done

Gonna take a bit of a break now & rechargify me brain.

Oh, Bugger, I's It

Girl Meets WoW done gone and tagged me. Fine. Five lessons what I learned from me adventures.

1. Black Rock Spire can be hard to get to.

2. If you kill the last boss, make sure ya loot him before hearthing out.

3. The best place to level up fishing is in the capital cities. That ways you can make sarcastic comments on the trade channel to relive the boredomification.

4. There ain't no better feeling than one-shotting an instance with yer friends.

5. It Is Not A Race!

6. The Helm of Evil Laughter is the coolest piece of loot in the whole friggin universe.

7. It is a good idea to learn First Aid when you first start out, rather than waiting to yer 35th season and then having to go buy a bunch of linen and wool.

8. No matter how drunk you are, Silvanas Windrunner will not agree to go on a date with you.

9. A good healer is worth her weight in khorium.

10. The Ogri'la wimmenfolk is a whole lotta fun, but the quartermaster is a real fuggernumper.

11. Fel Reavers suck.

Okay, so that's eleven, which be more than five. Bite me. (No, you gotta do it harder than that - orcs got thick hides.)

Paying Me Respects

Paying me respects to Nova, a hero what didn't make it. Sometimes being one of the best still ain't good enough.








Got nuthin' more to say.

Lunacy, with Intent

A whiles back, we was in the Mechanar, and the Plasma Rat's Hyper-Scythe dropped. "Ooh. Warrior weapon. Major dps. Grats, Ratter."
"I pass." says me.
"What? You don't want it? What the hey?"
"I's the wrong spec. I can't use two-handers efficiently anymore. Go ahead and DE it, Zinzi."
"But Rats," says Zin, "It's even got your name on it ..."
"Don't want it. Shard the bugger."
It was the right thing to do. But that don't mean I didn't cry meself to sleep that night.

Here the deal. I's protection specced. Means I's a tough-ass bugger, I know all sorts of tricks for looking threatening, and I've been trained to swing a one-hander, like me Planar Edge, with devastating effectivenessity. Can rip the other bugger's armor to shreds while I's at it, too. Very satisfying. So when I's just out killing things 'cause the need to die, I usually pack a dagger in me off-hand for a little extra kick.

Now, a two-hand weapon lays down some monstrous pain, if you can use it right. But you gotta been trained to use it proper. Mortal strikes and sweeping strikes and extra crits and all then good things. Me, all I can do with a two-hander is go swing ... ... ... swing ... ... ... swing. So, they ain't my thing and so I passed when the Hyper-Scythe dropped. Even though it were bodacious and it had me name on it. But the Lunar Crescent now. It's the baddest of the bad for two-handers. 109.6 dps, plus crits and attack power out the wazoo. Herk, over at Arms And Fury, forged hisself a Lunar Crescent, and calls it "super fun". Maybes that would potent enough even for a prot warrior like me.

So I bought me some primal might on the AH (100g or so a pop - ow, ow, ow, ow!) and I farmed me some primal air. Saved up all the eternium that were tucked away in adamantite deposits. And then I popped over the the Shattrath forge and started hammering way.

So here it is. And man, do it look righteous. I took it out to the Bone Wastes to get some feedback from the cultists there. They's experts at becoming dead. Well, what they told me was, yeah, it hit like a truck, but it weren't enough to keep up with all the special attacks I could do with a pair of one-handers. Bugger. So, I put it in the bank, next to me Whirlwind Axe and me Truesilver Champion and me Honed Voidaxe. Maybes someday I'll respec and I'll be able to put it to good use.

And by the ways, this were Goal and Priority Number the Two. For those of you what be keeping score.

Sorry Fellas, I's off the Market

The other day I's at the Skyguard base outside Ogri'la, pickin' up another rope to wrangle rays with (careless Skyguard, keep losin' the ones I bring'em), when I feels the love. Who is U____? I wonders the same thing, so I turns around to see. Turns out it's Mr. U____, a Nelf druid. Who is this bugger, and why does he love me? I wonders to meself. Not sure how to respond, since I don't speak degenerate languages like Nelfish, I falls back on an old standby. Bwahahahahahaha! goes the Helm of Evil Laughter. At this, U____ salutes, I wave back, still befuddlized, and then we goes our separate ways.

So what did it all mean? I figures there be three possibilities:

Possibility the First: U____ is a fan of me blog, and recognized me. In which case, coolness! Welcome U____, and thanks for reading. Feels free to drop a comment so I'll know who the freak you is next time.

Possibility the Second: Someone got all excited by the Helm of Evil Laughter. It is, after all, the coolest piece of loot to drop in all Azeroth and Outland. Way cooler than this. And it's gotten people excitified befores.

Possibility the Third: U____ got hisself all swept up by me amazing virility and studliness, and just had to proclaim his love for me. Understandable, and I ain't threatened by it or nuthins, but it ain't gonna work. I just ain't that kinda orc. But bests of luck to ya, U____, finding yerself that special warrior.

Okay, it's also possible he just thought I was someone else. But I finds that one hard to swallow.

It's Me Birthday!

Check out this strapping young fellow, you buggers.

It were one year ago today that I picked up an axe, walked over to Kaltunk, and announced "I wish to be a Hero! Tell me what I must do."

And he said "Buggered if I know. Maybes you could do somethings about all these pigs what been diggin' in the vegetable garden."

And the rest be history.

Gonna go bake a Delicious Chocolate Cake. Anybody want some?

Branching Out

So I's sittin' in the World's End Tavern in Shattrath with me friend Hydrargyrum. We's just hanging out, quaffing ale and trying to outdoes each other with fishing stories. I'll admits it, she had me beat with the one about haulin' The Lurker Below outta a hole in the ice in one of the lakes in Dun Morogh.

After a bit she says to me "Rats, I gotta favor to ask of you. We got this bright young prospect of a warrior for this Warsong Gulch clan I help out with, but he needs an RL sponsor and all me friends are full up. Now, I know you're a Hordie and all, but would you be willing to consider it?"

Now, I knows what yer thinking. Horde vs. Alliance. Warcraft. Eternal Struggle. Death to the enemy. No mercy. Be ruthless. And all that. Here's me response. Warsong Gulch ain't some epic struggle for the fate of the universe, it's a trade dispute. And the Warsong Outriders ain't really part of the Horde. Plus, I've always thought they was a buncha ninnies.

So I says to her, "Yeah, maybe. Tell me about him."

"Okay, he's a Night Elf. Name's Dakoneris. His hair's kind of a mess, and his ears do that annoying boingy-boingy thing when he runs, but it doesn't really matter since I'm a gnome and can't see that high up anyway. He's got great legs, though, and his ass *giggle* is sooo cute. I mean, *blush* I could just ... But that's not really what you are asking about, is it?"

I shakes me head slowly, all patient-like. Gotta be patient with them bouncy gnomes.

"All right. He's a warrior, like you, but only in his tenth season. Not as strong as you, of course, but a little quicker maybe. And since he's an elf, he can do that whole shadowmeld-charge-the-unsuspecting ambush thing, which is uber-cool. He doesn't have a pot to piss in yet, but that's what twinking is for."

"About that," I says. "How can I twink him if he's Alliance, and on your server to boot?"

"Oh, don't worry - I'll take care of it. Hee-hee. I'm gonna run his sexy little butt through low level dungeons till his eyes bleed."

Some might consider this to be all metaphorical and whatnot, but I knows Hydra. She is an almost evil warlock. I pity the poor young night elf. On the other hand, just 'cause the Outriders is ninnies don't mean things gotta be easy for they's opponents neither.

So I agrees to be this young elf's RL sponsor. We shall see how this thing shakes out, now, won't we? No matter what, I expect Hydra's gonna have her some fun.

Road Trip!

I's been a blacksmith almost as long as I's been a warrior, and in me time I've been to a great buncha forges. Most of the time they's pretty easy to get to. Ya ride into town, hop off yer mount, pull yer hammer outta the backpack, and get started working up a righteous sweat while the metal sings to you. Easy as whackin' bunnies. Even if you can't find the forge right off, you can often ask a guard or someones, and they'll be happy to say "It's right over there, rocks-fer-brains."

Likes I said, easy.

But some forges is harder to get to than others. Thun'grim Firegaze set his up in the middle of the Barrens. "East of the Crossroads" I was told. Fegh! He were on top of a bloody mountain! And Galvan the Ancient set up his forge in the middle of the jungle in Stranglethorn Vale. Fuggin tigers walk up and bite yer arse while yer trying to Smelt On, Smelt Off.

But I'd have to say that the hardest forge to get to is also the most amazing one of all. It's the Great Forge in the heart of Ironforge. And I wanted to see it, at least once. Maybe hammer out some felsteel armor while I's there. Swaps stories with me fellow smiths. "But Ratter," you sez, "ain't Ironforge full of them ankle-biting dwarves, who don't take kindly to surprise visitors droppin' in (especially orcs)?" Well, yeah. I said it were hard to get to, didn't I?

I figures I'm gonna do me best to look unthreatening, so as to put the locals at their ease. I takes off me armor and weapons and puts on me best civilian tuxedo. I rode me Brewfest Ram, so's to show I honors the local customs. And I prepares to wave and state me intentions to peacefully tour the forge and then depart in a calm, unthreatening voice.

Pfft. Fat lotta good that did me. Soon as the guards got over the "What the fuhg? An orc just ran past us!" shock, they was on me. I didn't fight back, just kept pushing toward the Great Forge. It were chaos. Guards everywhere, hunters shootin' they's bows and sending in they's pets, and at least one human rogue stealthed her way in so she could cop a feel. I weren't sure I were gonna make it, but fortunately I's a tough bugger and I got around a corner and there it were.

The Great Forge.

It were magnificent.

Then the guards got me down and slapped the chains on me. Then they dragged me out of town and tossed me off a cliff, the one overlooking the cemetery. Oof. That hurt. A bunch. Still, I was glad I done it.

A Good Feast

Hopes those of you what observes SayThankYou Day had a happy and festive one. Me, I invited a whole bunch of the NPCs I've gotten to know this past year over for a big catered shindig. We had a coupla 120-pound Arakkoa and some broiled Quillboars and something what tasted like Dark Iron Dwarf but weren't anywhere near as tough, so I ain't sure. It were good though. I was a little afeared that one of TJ's friends had somehow ended up on the menu, but it turned out to be a traditional baked smashed-up vegetable dish, so that was all right.

Segra Darkthorne was there, and Dwukk, who first showed me how to swing a blacksmith's hammer. Jorn Skyseer and his daughter Mahren the surfer chick both came, and I was real happy to see Galvan the Ancient and Trenton Lighthammer of the Mithril Order ("Courage, Honor, and above all, Patience"!). I invited all the surviving peasants from Hillsbrad, but they said thanks but they had other plans already. Kravel Koalbeard came, and promptly got to work organizing bets on how the wishbone would break. Warlord Goretooth brought a whole platoon with him from Kargath, and they did a bangup job of helping to set up the tables and other junk. Of course, Marin Noggenfogger, Dirge Quikcleave, and Security Chief Bilgewhistle from Tanaris was all there - they never miss a party. The Fallen Hero of the Horde was there as well, although he didn't eat nuthin' 'cause he's a ghost, cursed to eternal torment for the souls of his lost soldiers and all.

From Outland we had Wing Commander Brack, who trusted me with me first bombing mission, even before I'd been trained to ride a flying mount, and Archmage Khadgar. Rexxar the half-ogre came with his bear Misha, and between the two of the them polished off an entire quillboar. The Shroom Dudes and the Ogri'la Ogres both sent big contingents, which were pretty cool 'cause they hardly ever leave they's home territories. Cro Threadstrong was there, but spent most of the night complaining about the caterer's wagon being in his way. And some blame fool brought Tobias the Filth Gorger, who made an unholy mess in the bathroom. I'm betting it was that prankster Umi Rumplesnicker.

All in all, it were a dang good party, the most fun you cans have with yer clothes on and yer axe unbloodied. Looking forward ta doing it again next year.

She Keeps Me Not Dead

Is SayThankYou Day.

This tasty morsel of trollflesh is Zinzi, from her perky ponytail and and tusks down to her sexy toes. I've talked about her sometimes - she gives good resurrection. What she also does is heal my ass through every dungeon in Outland, from when I was a lowly 60 first setting foot in the Hellfire Ramparts all the way through to Tempest Keep. Plus sidetrips to such scenic locales as Caverns of Time and Black Rock Spire. She was wearin' epics back when I was having to ask directions to Crossroads, and she's been to big league places like Gruul's and Serpentshrine, but she's always got time to help me when I need help killing Demon Paininthepatootie 'cause he drops some nice plate gear. And she don't even hold it against me that time in Undead Strat I got mind-controlled and lopped her head off.

Thanks, Zin. Wouldn't be half the orc I is without ya.

/salute
/hug

The Green-Eyed Temptress

Somedays, I hands the ball to the muse and gotta get the hell outta that green-eyed temptress's way as she charges off with it, trampling everything into the mud. That's the days I get to post something I really likes.

Somedays, I hands the ball to the muse and she takes running, only to discover that she's tied her shoelaces together and splats herself facedown in the mud. Those days I get posts something what's maybe okay, maybe not so much. Facts of life.

Somedays, I tries to hand the ball to little miss-green-eyes, and she goes "Piss off Ratter! I'm tired! I was on a frickin' airplane all the night before last, then I was in meetings all day, then I was on a different frickin airplane all last night, and the flight was delayed, and the kid behind me kept kicking the seat and his parents Wouldn't Give Him ANY FRIGGIN RITALIN!!!" When she's like this I got no idea what she's talkin' about, but I figures it's best to back up slowly, holding out me hands and making no sudden moves.

So, not much of a post this morning. Maybes I'll get something later. A few tidbits of things I could talk about, but ain't got no muse at the moment:

I finished Goal and Priority Number the Two .
Team Ratshag may be opening a foreign branch office.
Should I take up engineering? I's been pondering the pros and the cons.
Is me guild kaput? Looks like.
Tomorrow is SayThankYou Day. Gonna be sure to do that.

Diary of an Upwardly Mobile Orc

Lazy post full of recycled material. 'Cause I's busy, dang it!

Way back last January, I started keepin' a journal of me adventures. Called Diary of an Upwardly Mobile Orc back then, after something Guild Leader Tarsius had said. I was working in the Barrens back then, sometimes crossing into Ashenvale or the Stonetalon Mountains. Wearing pretty basic chainmail armor, no helmet or pauldrons. Hadn't ever ridden a Zeppelin or seen Undercity or nuthin'. Didn't even know Outland or the Dark Portal existed.

What a simple little chuggerwhupper I was.

Well, I been feeling a little nostagilacious, and I's gonna drag you kickin' and screamin' down me personal memory lane. Enjoy these tasty snippets, you buggers.

January:

So there I am, running down the Gold Road in the Barrens, minding me own business. When suddenly there's 3 Alliance outriders, all Level 25 Elites on mounts. Bang, I'm dead. I hate being dead.

Went back to the Grimtotem camp and sure enough, there was Flathoof's daughter again. Got her back to daddy. She was so glad to be rescued that she gave me a little extra XP on the side.

A bunch of Blood Elves joined our guild recently, and as the seniormost of the junior guild members I was dispatched over to Silvermoon City to help give them some backup while they gained experience. Turns out most of these Elves are chicks and they are damn hot!

By this point the BEs are all full of piss and vinegar and were like, "Let's go kick their asses!" So off we go.

February:

Apparently you can skin a Yeti. Huh.

Our eyes met only for a second, but I could tell. She wanted me. She wanted me real bad. And then the zeppelin arrived and the moment was gone forever.

So we hit the place and Torella methodically goes from hall to hall, slaughtering everything. My job is primarily to stay out of her way and scoop all the loot into a wheelbarrow. Not very heroic.

Desolace. What a bunghole.

and then I finally got the axe. Man, is it righteous. I ran all the way back to Hillsbrad Fields to show it to the farmers there. They were all real impressed. They didn't actually say so, 'cause they were busy screaming and running, but I could tell they all thought it was pretty wicked.

So now there's some talk of the guild making a raid on some place called Blackfathom Deeps. Man, I swear, this keeps up I'm gonna have algae growin' in me beard.

March:

"Teach me how to cook this!", I says.
"'Scuse me dere, Mister Orc?" she replies.
"Teach me how to cook this, please!", I says.

Tantria gave me a hug and called me a "goo", which I'm assuming is a Blood Elf term of affection, and not a reference to what's on the bottom of of your boot after you step on a bug.

"You're gonna need to get yerself a stack and a half of mithril bars, a stack of truesilver bars, some thick leather, and four breaths of wind."
"The hell is a breath of wind?"
"It's a sort of a fart that leaks out when you kill a wind elemental. Best ones for it are the Gusting Vortices down in Tanaris."

How she managed to carry that stuff in her skimpy, skin-tight armored spandex I figured I'd better not ask.

I've got a lot of miles under my Ornate Mithril Boots at this point, but when I go the Dark Portal to check out Outland, the sentries there say "Sorry, kid, you ain't ready. Come back when you've got a bigger pair." Wankers.

April:

The Blasted Lands. Where the locals do their darndest to make newcomers feel real fuhggin welcome.

I picked it up and it started talking. "Help! I'm a sorry-arsed bugger who's lost his homing robot. Please find it and get it back to me and I'll give you a reward that's not really enough to justify your troubles" or something like that.

"Well, then you come to the right place. I can bang out a troll-sized set of imperial plate first thing tomorrow."
"That be righteous, mon, but one thing. He ain't a troll. Wrewdie be a gnome."
"Thought you said he was your cousin."
"He is."
"Okay, I'm confused..."
"Relax, mon. Don' tink too hard - you kill da buzz."

"Thank the unholies you're here, Ratshag! Those buggers out on the Hellfire Peninsula have gone and got themselves seriously screwed."

Fuhggin Fel Reavers. That's all I have to say on the subject.

She still wanted me. She still wanted me bad.

May:

Do you like me new hat? It's got a built-in candle, so I ain't gotta be afeared of the dark no more.

This soggy bugger is Temm. He used to be Throttle's uncle, or nephew, or something, back when Throttle had a pulse.

"Zinz, woman, you been ripped off. Some fool with a yellow question mark on his blame head put radium in a bustier and said it was a quest reward and got you to wear it."

Scrybabies. These are the good Blood Elfs. You can tell them apart from the bad Blood Elfs, who they want you to kill, 'cause they pay you.

June:

Apparently there was some dastardly scheme to change time and mess with Thrall's life - keep him from escaping from Durnholde Keep and losing his cherry to some human chick in Tarren Mill.

Taught the kid a few things, like how to smelt thorium, how to cook ravager dogs over a campfire, how to run like a fuggerwhumper with his ass on fire when a Fel Reaver spots you.

July:

Shadow Hunter Vosh'gajin. She felt safe with her shadow priests and axethrowers. She felt safe behind the Orcs of the Scarshield Legion. She felt safe deep under Blackrock Spire. She felt there was no way an orcish blacksmith, operating alone and without backup, could reach her.
She was wrong.

"Hey, Throttle, man, you sure this is a good idea? You sure we're not gonna destroy the world or somethin'?"
"Nah. If this was gonna destroy the world that crazy old hermit would be paying us a lot more," says Throttle.

But in that instant our souls touched, and I knew -
She still wanted me. She wanted me bad.

Is Done

Hauled me green butt up to Revered with the Aldorks this weekend. Goal and priority Number the One. Means I got to buy their heavy-duty can opener-resistant chestpiece. I pulled out all the stops and paid a tailor to stitch me up a Cloak of Eternity as well, and got Zinzi to do her enchanting mojo. All together, my tanking kit gives me the following (unbuffed) data:

Health: 13k
Armor: 12.3k
Defense: 522

Is not bad, I think. There's enough wiggle room there that I could swap out some gems for +hit ones, to help with aggro generation. Some other day.

Man, I really look like a fuhggin' armored clown, don't I. /sigh

You Can't Take it With You

... lessen of course you can.

For those you what ain't been paying atttention, I recently switch Shattrath factions from Scrybabies to Aldorks. All so's I can get me this. Now try to keep up.

I pulled out me Retainer's Blade the other day , the dagger what you gotta be all exalted with the Scrybabies to buy. And the little bugger lets out a shriek. "Traitorous bastard!" it yells at me. "You lousy traitor!" I tell ya, I ain't used to me gear talkin', let alone slandering me good reputation. Startled, I dropped it on the ground, where it began floppin' around like a fish outta water, screaming out words so bad even I's embarrassed to repeat them. It must've overheated or something, 'cause after a bit there was smoke coming off it, and then it kinda melted. At which point it stopped floppin' and screamin'. I looked down at it and said to meself, well, there goes two hundred gold.

After that, there weren't no way I was gonna try equipping me Gauntlets of the Chosen. Muggernuggers probably woulda bit me fingers off. Straight to the vendor they went.

However, all is not lost. I still knows how to make the enchanted adamantite armor I learned from those buggers. And the enchants on me shoulders, both the tanking and the killing sets, seem to be in full force. So I guesses if you buy something and then switches out, it's a goner. But if you buy a thing what enchants yer gear or brain, then yer okay.

Oh crap! I've still got a Scrybaby tabard hanging in me closet. I better get it out of there before it spontaneously combustifies or something.

He shall be My Squishy!

I was shroom dude back when shroom dude wasn't cool. I filleted nagas and gathered fertile spores and went on some really far out trips on psychedelic fungi, just so I could party it up in the marsh and wear the purple and purple and green. Then along comes Patch 2.3 and they shroom dudes is offering spore bat non-combat pets. Well, I just had to get me one.

All they want for payment is 30 glowcap mushrooms. "Find 30 mushrooms in Zangarmarsh? Pffft. How hard can that be?" you asks. Gots to remember though. You's looking for a particular kinda mushroom, hidden in with all the others. It's like saying "Find me 30 orcs in Orgrimmar. And by the way, they's gotta be ones what pour the milk before the tea." or maybe "the ones who likes music videos with girls in blue poofy underwears." You get me point - they exist, but they ain't gonna all be standin' in front of the bank for you to finds all easy-like.

Well, I looked high and I looked low. I asked the guards at Zabra'jin if they'd seen any, but they just looked at me like I was a loon and kept walking. I tried asking a fungal giant, but he just wanted to eat me so I hadda kill him. The nagas just yelled at me and called me guild a bunch of losers who spend poker night wandering around in the wilderness and don't even get a single quest done. Well, okay, they had a point - I gotta give'em that one. Finally I found meself thirty glowcaps, and real quick flew over to the shroom dude quartermaster and got me my very own little spore bat. I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my Squishy!

Important Knowledge! You Should Read!

Now, there's a lot of blogs out there what you can learn useful information from. A lot. What kinda gear you wants, how to spec yerself, how to tank/heal/damage Prince Imabigboss in Deepdarkraiddungeon. You wanna know it, there's someone who wants to tell it to ya. And me hat is off to those bloggers, it really is. They keep the world turnin' and don't get nothin' in return. Me, that ain't my style. I's just a simple orc, and I tells my simple stories and it seems to work out okay. But every now and then, something slips through the cracks, and an important piece of information does not get reported. Critical data, unreported by the high lords of
Warcraft blogging. That's when it is time for simple bloggers like meself to step up to the plate and pass on a small nugget of know-how, so that you will know what to do when the moment is upon you. Today, it is my duty to answer a question which will someday confront us all:

What happens to me if I fall off the edge of the world when I'm already dead?

Now, we all remember that batshit crazy Night Elf Columbus from our schooldays, right? Course you do. Even I do. He's that bugger what tried to sail to the High Elf lands by sailing west from Kalimdor, thinking that the world was a sphere and he'd come around on the other side. What a maroon. He was never seen again, of course, because he fell of the edge of the world!

Now, in Azeroth that takes some doing. You needs a ship, you needs a crew willing to buy into yer batshit craziness, you needs a lot of things. In Outland, though, it's a different story. You can walk right up the edge of the world and pee off it, if ya wants. Hey! Don't push me when I's doing a demonstratification! That shit ain't funny! Where was I? Oh, yeah. As you can sees, it's real easy to go off the edge, whether yer being chased or got way too drunk or is just plain stupids. Like this:
And you falls for a long, long ways, and then you's dead and yer ghost pops up in one of them convenient graveyards scattered around the countryside. And you probably needs to talk the lovely, gear-smashing lady to get yer body back.
So far so good. But what if you dies in the regular way, but it happens to have gone down right next to the edge of the earth. And while yer running back to your body, in a moment of "nothing can happen to me I's already dead" you gets too close to the edge and Whoops! There you go! What happens then? Does you fall for ever? Does yer ghost have a ghost of its own? What will happen?

Fortunately for you buggers, I know the answer. While back, me and Aelion the cheeky Blood Elf was discussing this very matter one time when I was dead, and we was able to utilize our complementary racial gifts to find an answer. The clever elf said "Jump! You know you want to." and the strong orc made a mighty leap into the twisty nether. Like this:And what happened? I tells ya. I fell for a bit, then poof! Me ghost is right back at the graveyard, ready to run to me corpse, no damages done.
So, now you be informed. If you are running back to yer corpse and you are near the edge of the world, there is no need to be worrified! Even shoulds you stray too near the edge, there will be no calamity - a minor setback is the worst. So run! Run with the carefree spirit only the dead possess, knowing that the worst has already happened! Maybe even jump as you runs, like the elves do.

And so, a small but critical gap in the knowledge provided by the blogosphere has now been remedificationed. You's most welcome.

Friendly Banter

You ever bantered with someone funnier and quicker on the draw than you, when yer hoping to make a good impression and hold up your end? It's like tanking four gonnaeatyersquishies at the same - heartpounding and exhilarating and you really hope you don't come across like a blame fool or get the healer killed. And afterwards yer thinking "that was fun! wanna do again."

Well, if you haven't, don't worry about it. This ain't about you anyways.

Sorry Ladies, I's Coming Off The Market

So I's in the Bone Wastes, exterminating cultists fer da shiny Marks of Kil'ifragilisticexpialidocious what my new Aldork buddies is all "gimme! gimme!" for. And outta the blue I gets a marriage proposal. Obviously, she is drawn irresistibly to me combination of jawdropping virility, clever wit, and enough stamina to tank a dragon and still keep posting every nubberflumping day of NoMoBloMeMoDuKo. Now, I don't wants to give the impression that I's easy by the fact that I accepted right away. Truth is, I's known her a while now and she is, by and large, worthy of me. Who is she? Well now, I ain't sure it'd be gentlemanly of me to reveal that information to you mangy buggers. She wants you to know, she'll tell ya herself. And no, it ain't Garona Halforcen or Tyrande Whisperwind, although them's good guesses.

So Ratter's days of sowing the wild oats is gonna be drawin' to a close. Get some oatifications while you cans, ladies. Once they's gone, they's gone (with exceptions for really special circumstances, of course).

Need more Google

I sometimes use SiteMeter to peek at where people is getting there linkifications to me blog from. Not that it matters much, I's just curious. Sometimes the google searches what lead people here can be a little odd. Apparently, if ya searches "what does zul mean in Polish" Google'll point you to me posting on running Tantria through Scholo. Yeah huh. Or, some poor sod searched fer "skinny dipping" and got me picture of Wind Rider Master Faustron. Man, he musta been a disappointed bugger.

I've seen some blogs talk about all the google searches that hit'em like there's a way to get this info real easy. But I's just a simple orc and sometimes these interwebbies is just too much for me. If anyone knows what this trick is and could point me in the right direction, I'd be most gratitudinous. Thankee.

Edit: Some poking around turned up Google Webmaster Tools, which can show's you all the searches what hit yer site. Doesn't quite agree wit' Sitemaster, but ain't nuthin perfect.

It's Like the Last Dodo

There it is. The last green exclamation point in Azeroth. Had to go all the way to Moonglade to find it. This poor bugger is Faustron. He manages the wind riders in this green hippie dippy druid paradise. He says he has come to really, really hate hippies, and he's put in an application for a transfer to Desolace, where "there ain't so many fuhggin trees!"

What was I doing in Moonglade. of all places? Well, me kid brother Gogmoth is a tailor, among other things, and he's been making stuff with all the runecloth I been sending him from Outland lately. And he needed the pattern for to make the runecloth bags. You know the ones, the fourteen-slotters everone was packing back when the Black Portal opened and then we discovered netherweave? Yeah, them. Anywho, the only person what sells the pattern is this goblin in Winterspring, and Gog ain't had a chance yet to convince the furblogs what control the tunnels through the mountains that he ain't gonna eat their babies or try to sell them insurance or something equally abominable. So he can't get to Winterspring and he needs me to go get it for him. "Fine" I says. And while I's there I remembers something about tailoring patterns in the hippie dippy hollow, which I ain't never been to before. Plus, I got this really old quest I picked up in Thunderbluff to go talk to one of the treehuggers. So I go's and walks through the furblog tunnel off to the happy valley.

Turned out the tailoring plans was all bind on pickup, so Gogmoth's gonna have to drag his lazy seamstress butt up there to get them hisself. But while I was there I tracked down old Faustron, who's probably the loneliest wind rider master in all Azeroth. Felt sorry for the bugger, so I hung out with him a bit before flying back to Org. We had us a few beers and watched the hippie chickies skinny dipping in the pools, which he says is pretty much the only thing to do for fun up there. It weren't a bad way to spend the afternoon, 'til they turned into bears and cats and walruses - then we might as well have been watching the nature channel.

I hopes he gets that transfer he's after. Poor sod.

She is My Hero

If I ever gets an opportunity to mess with kids' heads, I wants to be just like this lady. You know, before I fires up the barbeque and works on me cooking skill.

Patch 2.3 Notes

Incorporating the effects of sunder into devastate looks to be a Good Thing.












What, you want more? Pfft. Go read a blog written by some sorry bugger what can be bothered to keep track of the details.

What I Wants To Know Is ...

How come me riding crop works on a broom? And how come I can't just use it on meself to run faster?

Why is the Squeakie Priestie standing in water up to her chin in the Swamp of Sorrows?

Where's the flesh beast non-combat pet I oughtta get fer hittin' exalted with da Consortium?

What happened to Teej after she left Club Half-Past-Nine and did she need to call 911?

What goes on when I walks past the guards at Scarlet Monastery, and they don't respond or nuthin'? Did I get some sort of "You can't see me! Whoohoo!" passive ability last time I was at the trainer and he not mention it? Or do they just say to theyselves "Oh crap! This muggerchugger looks serious! Let's pretend we don't see him and maybes he'll go away."

Why does a taunt only last six seconds? Did they forget I just called their mother a skanky ho with mismatched armor?

How come when I put on a helmet me beard and braids disappear?

Has Lady Vashj ever posed for a pin-up calendar?

Who'd win a footrace? Murmur or Ragnaros?

Why did it have to be oozes?

Rise of the Drama Llama

Now I may have mentioned that I runs in a small uber-casual laid-back guild. As such, we usually don't have to worry about guild drama. If we have arguements over loot, they's the kind what go like this: "You should take it." "No, you take it - it perfect for your class/spec" "Yeah, but it's a bigger upgrade for you. You take it." etc etc etc until the rest of the party scream "Somebody take the dang thing already!" but whoa nellie did we get ourselves some drama the other day.

All started when Aelion the cheeky Belf hunter's new pet got loose in the Purge Secret Headquarters of Doom (okay, it's a small fourth floor flat in the cheapest section of Orgrimmar). Seems he'd picked up a crocolisk somewheres so he could learn the "Have Six Legs" ability and teach it to his windserpent Pip. Well, this croc goes and eats one of Rim's non-combat pets. Was either Henly or Lilry - I can't be bothered to remember the details. Well, Rim's pissed and he's got his fireballs set all the way up to "Deep Fat Fry" and he's ready to do some homestyle cooking on Aelion's ass. Problem is, all Belfs look alike to trolls. I's serious - they can't tell'em apart nohows. So there's all sorts of fireball action going off as the elves all scampers around looking for safety. Aelion ain't dumb - he feigns death as soon as he hears Rim comin' and totally avoids the wrathful retributions. Bashabil bubbled until she could hide behind big ol' Bull, but Ellspeth weren't so quick and got all crispy crittered. Fortunately she had her soulstone on and was able to pop back up after.

Eventually me and Throttle was able to grab Rim and wrestle him to the ground and hold him there 'til he calmed down. I tell ya, fer a mage with a strength of like , I dunno, maybe seven, he put up a heck of a struggle. And he bit me too, the bastard. At least I stayed clear of the tusks - those things is huge.

Well, Aelion disappeared immediately afters. We thought maybe he was just laying low 'til the smoke cleared and we'd had a chance to replace the carpeting or somethings, but no. He went and found hisself a new guild. "A chance to go on raids, and they aren't so frickin' anal about their non-combat pets" he told me. Well, I wishes him lucks.

Here Fishy Fishy Fishy!

Check it out! Me and Sleepy Willy is fishing in Zangarmarsh now. Got me skill over 300 and everything.

Great thing about fishing in Outland is the fish is actually worth eating. Even in the shallow end of Zangarmarsh (no pesky nagas, and the hydras pretty much leave me alones) I can catch the stuff for stewed trout, blackened sporefish, and feltail delight. Little more practice, and I'll be catching motes of water and goldenscale vendorfish likes a pro.


Wants to thank thems what been inspiring me to keep pushing forward with this hobby - the Egolisticacious Priest, the assault-and-battery bitch, almost evil Hydra, and me guildie Mr. Hoof. Thanks guys!

I's Been Neuterized!

Shplort!

That's the sound of 1344 dreadfang venom sacs being dropped on the floor in front of Sha'nir, the Draineinaena what runs the Center for Refugees Too Dumb To Not Go Out in the Woods And Get Bit By Spiders. "Oh, my" she says, awe-struck by my generosities and rugged good looks. "This may take a while."

Yeah, no lie. All the sacs had to be counted and but into boxes eight at a time and labeled and dated and whatnot. I said they should just take me word for it that they was all there, but her assistant said he weren't sure orcs could count that high. Bigot.

It took near an hour, but when it were done she reported up to her bosses on the Aldor Rise what a fine upstanding citizen I was and that therefores they shouldn't attack me on sight no more. Then she tooks me into the back room and gave me a more personal welcome to the Aldor community. I found out she sounds like a chipmunk when she's real excited, and she found out once you go orc you never go ... well, whatever. You just don't.

What you say? Screen capture or it didn't happen? Fine, you mistrustful buggers. Here it is:

Charms to Soothe the Savage Fuhggin' Breast

Teej wants to know what musics everyone listens to, so she can decides who's got the suckiest taste. Sounds like the sorta thing she's gonna enjoy announcing. Well, I listened to her stuff and it were okay. None of it creamed me twinkie, but none of it made me toss me warp burgers, neither. So, now that she's shown me hers, I guess I gots to show her (and the rest of you buggers) mine.

No Youtubing in Azeroth, I afears. All I can dos is put up the names and leave it to you to track'em down.

In no particular order, I like:

"I am Tauren, Hear Me Mooo" - Unby Wheatcream

"Play That Funky Earspank, Green Boy" - Brother Thorgen and His All-Dwarf Oompah Band

"Axes Will Weep" - Uttha Spleenbiter

"Fear Me Mojo, Mon" - Zul'jin's Stepsons

"The Murmur Says BOOOOM" - Auchindonaphobia

Oh, and that one where the wind blows the baby and cradle outta the tree. That one always cracks me up.

Ratshag. Now 60% Bold.

And 40% starkers.

Last night in the Black Morass the Legplates of the Bold dropped off of Aeonus. Presumably he kept'em around for when he transmorgified into human form, since no way they'd fit on a forty-foot dragon. Anywho, they goes nice with me Shoulderguards of the Bold which I got from Murmur in Shadow Lab (who didn't have no shoulders, so buggered if I know what he was doin' with'em) and me Gauntlets of the Bold which I took off of Warlord Fishface in the Steamvault (who at least had hands). Still missing is the Warhelm of the Bold and the Breastplate of the Bold, both of which was last seen in various corners of Tempest Keep. But I ain't seen either of those yet.

The shoulders was a clear upgrade from me old Warchief's Mantle, so I slapped some Solid Stars of Elune in'em and a Greater Inscription of the Knight and they's me tanking shoulders. So far so good. But then it gets tricky. Compared to me Felsteel Gloves, the Bolds got more stamina but less armor. Since I's got plenty of health but I'm pushin' to get me armor up to 12k, I tank in the felsteel and bank the bold. But as gear changes I may find meself in the opposite position, so I ain't vending nuthin'. Then me Legguards of the Resolute Defender got better avoidance the the Bolds but less strength, which be useful fer generating the threatifications. At the moments I ain't having no troubles holding aggro, so I'm tanking in the Resolutes and banking the Bolds, but this may change. Arrgh. I's just a simple orc, and having to keep track of all this mathifying be giving me headaches.

Bugger it. I'm gonna go kill something. And its offspring. And drink some beer.

Number the Three

Well, we did it. We went back in time and protected Medivh while he opened the Dark Portal. Here you can see that the portal is open and the first orcish troops is checking it out. See that one on the left? I think he's me dad's uncle.

I tell ya, it were a hell of a fight. Not 'cause me guildies ain't awesome, 'cause they is, but it weren't really our kind of fight. We had me, and Zinzi who gives way wicked healing, and our two survivalist hunters Bull and Aelion what can lay traps like nobody's business. And Throttle, who totally rocks at being sneaky. They's so awesome at crowd control that sometimes I need to remind'em to leave somebody for me to fight. But this weren't a crowd control fight. This were a lay down the law, take no prisoners, maximum overdrive dps fight. And it were hard going for a while there. But we rallied and pulled together and got the muggerflumpin job done. And I got some high-end loots out of it, but I'll talk about that another time.

So what does this mean? Means there's gonna be decades of wars, famines, exterminations, concentration camps, Thrall gets to boink Jaina Proodmore, legions of undead, and I get to grow up in the deserts of Durotar. There's reasons why this is all a good thing, but I can't be bothered to remember the details.

What's more important is what it means for me, in the here and now. You sees, after we'd killed all the evil time dragons and the Portal was good and open, I goes and talks to Medivh. And I shows him the key what Khadgar had put together from the pieces I'd pulled outta Shadow Lab and Steamvault and Arcatraz. And he was all "Dude. The fuhg you get this?" Then he takes that key and gives me one what looks just like it but apparently is charged up or something and tells me to go talk to Khadgar again. So back I goes to Shattrath and shows it to K and he says "Ratter you are good to go. Waltz yerself over to Karazhan and get yerself a buttload of purples!" Well, okay, he didn't really say that. But he did say that the key to Karazhan is really and truly mine, and I shoulds go use it.

So here it be. The key to the great tower of Karazhan. Don't look like much, do it? But it could unlock the next phase of me life, so I figure it's pretty darn important. Now I just gots to find a crew to go in there with me. I knows Zinzi and Aelion'd be up for it, 'cause they's troopers and got some righteous gear, but it don't look like anyone else in our tiny uber-casual guild is gonna come with us. So I don't know what I'm gonna do. But I'll worry about that tomorrows. Fer now, I's just gonna scratch Goal and Priority Number the Three off me list, and that's good enough.

One More Hallow's End Post

This happened a couple of weeks ago, but I didn't write about it then, 'cause I'm writing about it now.

I was doing one of them undercover jobs to get in close with the Dragonmaw so's I could secretly help the Netherwingies. Job was to fly out to the Twilight Portal in Nagrand and kill a bunch of the Deathshadow Agents what was working to open the portal. Since these guys is Burning Legion types, I'm helping out the good guys too by doing this, so it's a good. Anywho, this here picture's got me going up against a Deathshadow Archon. Now, I wouldn't expects a twelve-foot gray demon-orc woman to be the sort to go around to the inns of Azeroth and politely say "Trick or treat" to the innkeepers in the hopes of getting some candy. But apparently she were planning on doing just that later, 'cause after I did for the wench I founds this in her pocket. Lucky me. Sucked to be her.

Wonders what she were planning to wear for a costume?

5 Things I've Come to Hate

Still killing spiders for they's Dreadfang venom sacs so's I can convince the Aldorks I ain't a total nuggerfumper. Alongs the way I have come to hate 5 things about this job.

Thing One: Slow Acting Poison
It is really fuhggin embarrassing to exterminate a bunch of spiders, loot they corpses, say to yerself "self, you's getting low on health. you shoulds eat something", reply "yeah, pretty soon", and then fall down dead. Okay, so it only happened that one time. Still, that's enough to hate it.

Thing Two: Warp Hunters
These teleportin' bastards hang out in a lot of the same places as the spiders. It ain't that they's so tough, it's that they like to sneak up on you from behind-like while yer spiderizing. So then ya gots to turn around to fight them. Then they teleports behind you, so you gotta turn around again. It's an aggravation.

Thing Three: Alliance Killing me Spiders
They's my spiders. Nobody should be killings'em without I say okay. Now, if it's a hordie poaching them, at least there's a good chance any venom sacs'll end up on he AH, where I can buys them at me leisure. If it's a pasty-skinned human, though, them sacs is gone forever. Wankers.

Thing Four: Inventory is Full
If I can stack 200 venom sacs into one slot, how's come I can only get five leg tips into the same space? It's only the tip - it ain't like I's trying to cram the whole fuhggin leg in there! And why does a ring take up as much space as a freakin' breastplate. Stupid magic bags.

Thing Five: The Darkmoon Faire
They's parked in a space outside of Shattrath taking up space what could be full of valuable spiders, the buggers. Why can't they set up inside the city, on the Terrace of Light. Lots of space there, and then old A'dal could go and maybe buy hisself a frog pet or somethin'.

Busting Up Scholo

Little Tantria - remember Tantria? she's the one what called me a "goo" and warned me to "polish what needs to be polished" - well, she's been working on getting herself a dreadsteed. It's a big flaming undead horse for warlocks only. Hows come we warriors don't get big flaming horses? Anywho, to do this she needed to do some shenanigans in the Scholo U. chem lab. So who does she look to to help her bust into the place? That's right, big ol' killing machine Ratter. Oh yeah, and that Throttle dude too. So into the place we goes.

Warlocks: dead. Ghosts: more dead. Various bosses: dead. Half-hour later, the lab is clear and little Tantria is doing whatever hocus-pocus she needs to get done. Good show, T. Lookin' forward to you joining us in Outland.

And yes, even in her 60th season, that's Big Red Kitty's favorite hat she's wearin'. I shoulds go buy her a new one ...

A Few Words About Taunting

Taunting is a pretty fundamental part of tanking. It's a way of gettin' the bad buy to stop beatin' up on the poor cloth-wearing finger-wiggling squishie and pay attention to me, dang it! Once he's lookin' at you you can does yer regular threat-generating moves so he stays focused on you. After all, the tank is the most virile and sexy member of the party - the attention should be on you. (If you's a female tank, then maybes virile ain't the right word for you. I's just a simple orc, and I got no clue what the proper word would be. Whatever it is though, you've got it. You know you've got it).

Now taunting ain't something you should need to do in a straight-up fight. It's fer when something goes wrong. Crowd control fails and a mob goes for yer mage. A patrol comes along and starts beatin' on whoever's standing in the back. Priest has to do too much healing and they all go after her and she's screaming "Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!" and not in a good way. That's when you want yer taunt.

If yer a bear druid, then yer taunt is called "Growl" or "Grunt" or "Blueberry-and-honey-flavored fart" or whatevers. If yer a tankadin then I dunno know what it's called, but it's probably got something to do with the big arrow pointing to yer package. What do I look like, a research site? We warriors is basic folk, so we just calls our taunt "Taunt".

Now, when they teach you to taunt in warrior school (waaay back in yer tenth season when you learned to do the defensive stance) all they teach you do to is to poke the bad guy in a harmless but pain-inducing way. Oh yeah, and do that little shuffle with yer feet. And give him the real mean glare. This makes you look at least as threatening as anyone else in yer party, and gives you three seconds to lay on some shield slam and sunder action. And then yer good to go.

This all works fine. Problem is, when you do it this way the only ones what know you've taunted is you and the tauntee. Maybe the clothie what was in the middle of having his ass handed to him notices somethings changed, but he's probably a self-centered mage and ain't gonna realize you wasted a precious cooldown to save his worthless fireball-chucking hide. So I likes to add a verbal component to turn me taunts into Taunts. Let's everyone know yer on the job, plus it just feels good. And for some mobs, you can piss'em off so much they face changes color, which is fun to watch. Lemme give you some examples:

"Nyah nyah!"
"Me grandma crits more often than you!"
"Your mother wears 'of the Whale' armor!"
"You got a tiny winky!"
"'Scuse me, but I need to eat yer face."

You gets the idea. Find some what feels right for you, and write up a simple little macro so you says it as part of yer taunt. Mix it up. Keep 'em guessing. And have some funs with it.

You Too Good!

I's been practicing me fishing. The fishies in Outland is sneaky buggers (somethin' to do with all that nether I guess) and I just ain't got the skills yet to catch'em. So I practices. Oh, and I read that book, The Bass and You. Was good. Had lots of pictures and everything, and didn't give me papercuts.

But recently, I hit a wall. Just wasn't getting any better. So I goes and talks to Lumak, the fishing trainer in Org to see if there's anything he can show me. " Lumak no can teach Ratshag no more. You too good!" he says. "Find Lumak friend, Nat Pagle. Is human but no eat! Is Lumak friend! Nat teach you fish gooder."

I'd heard of Nat Pagle. They talks about him at all the docks and fishing holes from Shadowprey Village to Revantusk. He's like the best of the best. Won the Stranglethorn Fishing Extravaganza when he was like, four years old or sumthin'. And I gots to find him.

He ain't an easy man to find. I knew he was in the Dustwallow Marshes somewhere, but you know, there's a fuhggin lot of water there. Fortunately, the spiders and crocolisks and other vermin could tell I was an orc not to be messed with and pretty much left me alone as I searched. Finally found him on this small island off the coast, about as far from anywhere as you can get. Once we established that I was there about fishing and not to eat him or nuthin', he relaxed and said sure he could teach me some stuff. But like everybody else on this freakin' World, he wanted something first. At least it weren't too much. Just one exotic fish from each Desolace, Feralas, Strangethorn, and the Swamp of Sorrows. Weren't too bad. The only one what gave me trouble was the Feralas Ahi - had to ride into town and by me some lures.

So I got me fish and took 'em back to Mr Nagle, wracking up some serious frequent flyer points along the way. And thens we had ourselves a good cookout. Those fish grilled up real nice, not like the crap you get from the ponds in Org and Thunder Bluff (I won't even mention the stuff you get in the sewers in UnderCity!) and I had me Brewfest pony keg (Nat's a man what likes his beer). And then he showed me a few tricks about casting and reeling. They was the sorta stuff what seemed obvious after, like yer kickin' yerself for not figuring it out on yer own, 'cept you never would've in a million years. And sure enough, as we's fishing and drinking and watching the turtles go by, I could feel me skills slowly improving again.

Fishsticks, here I comes.

Batshit Insanity

TJ says that if yer feeling batshit insane then you should sign up fer NaBaLimBloFlaBuNaFoBlaBo, which is a daily quest thing where ya gots to post sumthin' in yer blog every day this month, and in return thay pay you ... ummm ... nuthin'. Well, Batshit Insane is me middle name. Yup, Rat Batshit Insane Shag. So I's gonna sign up. Now, I ain't gonna promise to write no 50,000 words like the Squeaky Priesty says she's gonna do. I mean, there's batshit insane and then there's the Magical Realm of Ain't Happening Noway Nohow. Just one nice, tidy, concise entry a day is what I'm going for.

Expects I'll make it a whole two or three days before I says "Bugger this!" and hangs it up.

A Political Crisis Narrowly Averted

The other day I's in that great cosmopolitan melting-pot / cesspool Shattrath City, checkin' me mail and minding me own business. When this little gnome runs up and laughs at me. Now, I knows gnomes is an uneducated folk and generally don't speak civilized languages like orcish, so I don't waste time politely inquiring what the fuhg her problem is. Instead I just goes back to reading me mail.

And then she poked me. Hey! And laughed at me again. At this point I's thinking this little gnome is begging to be punted off the Tier and into the Lower City with the refugees and other vermin and losers. (This would be the political crisis part, 'cause they frown on that sort of thing in Shat, even on the Scryer's Tier). But just as I start to grabs for her, the light bulb goes off in me head. She wants it, I realize. She wants it bad. And I's just the orc to gives it to her.

So I throws back me head, flings out me arms, and gives it to her. "Bwahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!" goes the Helm of Evil Laughter. The little gnome shrieks with delight, jumping up and down and cheering. Then I goes back to me mail and she goes off to do whatever it be that happy little gnomettes do.

Behold the Power of TJ

Dang, look at all the hits I got yesterday, thanks to TJ's endorsification. Appreciates everybody coming by, even if the humans did eat all me buffalo-style Arakkoa wings and the Taurens ate me whole lawn. I expects many left thinking somethings like "That was ... ummm ... different" and a few probably felt the need to take a shower, but somes liked what they read and said they be back, so I's happy.