Were A Lot More Than 2 Bits

Is were more like 12 gold fer the shave and haircut and dye job. Howevers, I's happy with me new look.

Is the old "Santa Rats" look:

And the new "buggered if I know but it's different" look:

And Kel, just 'cause I don't look like Father Winter no more don't mean ya cain't still sit in me lap and ask me ta brings ya a pony if ya wants. But Laguna is NOT allowed - his hair tickles me nose.

Been a Long Journey

That were then.

This is now.

Time to start the next journey. Wonders where it's gonna take me?

Sexy Dwarf Wimmens

Everybody loves ol' Ratter, but until I dings 70 I's only lovin' the dwarf wimmens back. Fortunatelies fer me, last night I had me the opportunity to loves me five luscious ladies at the same time. Is a good thing I's amazingly virile. We loved it up in the snow, and it were brisk an envigger..., invigro..., inviviviger... bugger it. It were dwarf style: cold and refreshing and saucy and sexy.

It were a night to remember, especiallies fer them five tasty pieces of dwarfflesh what was each lucky enough to get theyselves a 20% share of Rat love:

Annas, what can flatten steel with her thighs.
Brede, who gots plenty of awesomesauce loving
Bellwether, who were totally into me purple-headed, two-hander staff.
Fimlys, what enjoyed playing naked leap-frog.
Nightravyn, who liked ta play "find tha treasure".

Ding!

Reached me 69th season now. In honor of such, I shall only be entertaining ladies of the dwarfish persuasion these days. But don't worry, all you lovely gnomes and taurens and other wimmenfolk of varying altitudes - I'll be 70 soon enough and then I'll be availables to all again.

In a separate subject, I cant helps but notice what me gear be looking pretty dang purple at the moment. Which leads me to the fact what I done crafted me first epic today: [Primal Mooncloth Belt]. Woot! Yeah, sure, it don't fit yet, but it will soons enough.

Is Me New Hat

Is a chapeau. Is foreign-talk. Means several things:

Number the One: Sally's dead and I gots her hat. Again.

Number the Two: BRK's gonna be all jealous over me mad le3t haberdashery skillz.

Number the Three: I's up to level 39. That big dwarfy sheepdog mount's so close I can smells it. Feugh!

Number the Four: I dunno. Sumthin', maybe.

Number the Five: I gots sumthin' kinky ta wear fer me upcoming date with Jaina Proudmoore.

Is Good to Know

Recentlies, the Boomstick-Lovin' Dwarf Chick were talking about how you can take yer pet out to them undead ghost sailors off the coast of the Wetlands and get'em turned into ghost theyselves to find out if they's a boy or girl. 'Cause apparentlies you can't tell fer sure using the regular methods. Which got me thinking. But I's glad to say, now that I've been out to them ships, that even though there be certain ananoto- ... anonano- ... annatonami- ... bugger it. Things ain't all the same size when I got me dwarf on. Still, it is confirmed that I is in fact, male.

The wimmenfolks of Azeroth can rest easy, knowing Ratter's still on the job.

Well, This Be Fuhggin' Embarrassin'

So, I's got my dwarf on, and I's doing some questing in Ashenvale. Doing quests there is just like doing'em fer the Horde, only completely different. At least I ain't havin' ta open up every dang thing I kill to see if'n it ate Page 7 fer them Warsong Ninnies. Anywho, I get this quest to go do fer a bugger down in the Barrens, and I's thinking I's gonna have to fight me way through the Mor'shan Ramparts ta gets there. And that's gonna take some doings. After alls, it be a near-impenetrable barrier guarding the Horde's northern border.

But I got a job ta do, so I girds me loins and treks over there. And what do I finds? A great big fuhggin' hole in the wall, just to the east of the gate. When yer comin' up the road from the south it be hidden behind some trees, but fer them Nelfs and other scuzzy Alliance types coming down from the north it be plain as day. So much fer the great northern barrier wall. Is fuhggin' embarrassing.

I thought about runnin' over to the garrison and letting'em know about they's stupids, but ended up just sayin' "fuhggit" and climbed up Dreadmist Peak so's I could whack Mister Foulborne and get me pay.

L2 Priest

I's still learning to be a dwarf priest. At times it be all inconvenient-like.
But I has been finding some useful references. First off be a whole bunch of recommended talent specs at season 19, 29, 39, etc. over at WoWwiki.com. Includes variations fer PvE, PvP, and whatnots. Second good reference I picked up this week is a really impressives How to Melt Facesguide and flow chart fer shadow priests over at Dwarf Priest. Also has smites fer thems what insist on being holy. Is geared more fer endgame than leveling, but still most usefuls.

Edit: The Dwarf Priest were kind enough to gives me a link to a most impressive priest leveling guide she done put together a while back. So now me breakfast be complete.

Killing Spree In Ashenvale

Okay, so I exagerates a bit. It happens.

The other day I's wearing me dwarf costume and I'm runnin' down the road in Ashenvale, heading towards Aaastraanaaar. Just minding me own business, when I sees two Tauren and a Night Elf goin' at each other up ahead. Now, I's still an orc on the inside, but I's all Alliance on the outside, and besides, two-on-one don't seem fair.

So I flags up and drops a SW:Pain on the Tauren what seems to be the more engaged, following it up with a Mind Blast and a Smite. You know, I really get inta the names fer these spells what priests get. They's more colorful sounding than Charge and Rend and Sunder Armor, even if all they is is stand there and wiggle yer fingers. But I digressifies.

Pretty soon Mr. T Number the One goes down, but not before he does fer Mr Elf. Now it's just me and Mr T Number the Two, who's just sorta been standing there the whole time. Readin' a book maybes, I dunno. As I drops some Pain on him, I takes a second to see what season he is (yeah, I know, I shoulda checked sooner, but I were all excited to get into me first priestly PvP fight). Uh-oh. He registers as a skull. Not good. Of course, he resists me attack, but then he shakes a bit and then his eyes focus on me. Crap. As I's startin' to wonder what class he is, he pulls out a bow and twang! I's dead.

So there it is. Never did see the two Taurens agains - they was gone by the time my ghost got back to me body. Judgings by the bodies still lieing in the streets of Aastraaanaar when I gots there, I figures Number the Two had shown Number the One a shortcut to the Zoram'gar Outpost. That woulds explain why they was flagged. And it do save the trouble of dealing with all them spiders and wolves.

So. One honorable kill as a dwarf. Is a start.

Is a Nice Place to Be

So I's wearing me dwarf costume the other day and runnin' some quests in the Redridge Mountains. Is a place I ain't never been before, 'cause Horde don't like mess around in Alliances back yard - can't repair yer gear nowhere, fer one thing. Anywho, I bump inta this young spacegoat shammy from me guild, and she says "what you killin' today?"

"Gnolls and murlocs and orcs" I sez.

"Photons be praised!" she sez (or something like that). "So am I. Would you like to kill them together?"

"Sure" I sez. So off we goes. Went pretty well fer the most part. Was one boss gnoll and his guards we couldn't quite handle, and we both got an opportunity to practice our resurrection skills (I don' give good resurrection yet, but I's working on it). Afters we go inta town to rest our feet and share a hookah and she asks if I's a tailor. I says I is (ain't all priests?) and then she hands me a few stacks of wool she'd picked up.

"Um, thanks," I sez, a little self-conscious (is the dwarf what makes me that way - never happens when I's my orcish self), "but me bags is full."

"Really? What size bags do you have?"

"8-slotters."

"Oh great googly moogly. Fio! Get off yer feathered arse and have yer tailoring alt make this bugger some runecloth bags!" Well, what she really said was politer and had a lot "the Naaru would wish it" and that sort of talk, but you gets the idea. So did Fio. Pretty soon I' got me a whole buncha 14-slot bags, and all sorts of room fer stacks of cloth, and I didn't even haveta listen to any puns.

I likes being in an active guild where folks help each other out again. Is a nice place to be.

How Are Ye?

Greeeaat ta meetya!

What can I do forya?

My, you're a tall one!

Oh, bugger, that's what gnomes say. Ummmm....

Aye?

Okay, the fuhg am I doing? I's practicing being a dwarf.

All started a coupla months ago when I saved this gnome mage what were way in over his head fightin' demons near Ogri'la. As thanks, he says he can give me a gadget what'll transform me into a gnome so's I can walk around Alliance-side without gettin' inta trouble.

"Hmmm. Ya got one what'll make a dwarf? Gnomes is too short fer me taste." I sez.

"No problem!" he sez, and hands it over to me.

Coolness, I thinks. This'll make it possible fer me to go to places like the Great Forge and hang out and quaff a few pints of stout without getting ganked. So I heads over ta Shattrath, pops the gadget and *poof* I's a dwarf. But there be a problem. I ain't a warrior no more - I's a squishie priest. And season one to boot! Buggering little gnomes and they's sense of humor.

I tinkered around a bit, killing me some troggs and wolves and whatnot, and when I took it off I popped back to me normal orcish self. Didn't think much of it until Doom's birthday came up, and I figures what the hey, I'll go give the bugger me best. So I pops inta Dwarf form and goes to Ironforge and looks him up.

While I's there, I also says hellos to Mr Big Red Kitty, who were generous enough to invite me inta his guild (apparentlies in addition to recruiting for SSC and beyond, they also needed buggers to clear out Dun Morogh).

Apparentlies, me reputation had preceeded me and there was some what were happy to see me join they's friendly blog-happy guild.

Weren't all peaches and cream. Some was sceptical about the idea of an orc in an Alliance guild, even if I were disguisified...

One poor bugger even had a keyboard malfunction ...

... and there were some violence

But all-in-all it went pretty smooth, and I's now an accepted, if very junior, member of the bloggingest guild in Azeroth. So when I ain't in the battlegrounds or farming or doing dailies, I's practicing at being a dwarf. I be up to me 20th season now, which is more than any of the Alliance members of Team Ratshag, the lazy buggers. So. Here's me as a squishy dwarf priest. Greeaaat ta meetya!

Knock Knock

So what does two veteran Horde warriors do on they day off?
They puts on dwarf costumes and tell knock knock jokes.

Okay, yeah, I realize that don't make any sense at all, but just rolls with it anyhows.

This bugger here be Kelmar, which is what me friend Herk of Arms & Fury calls hisself when he feels like being vertically challenged. Me, I picked up a super-duper whizzbang dwarf costume so's I can sneak inta Ironforge without getting ganked. (Unfortunately, it were defective and made me into a first season priest. Mores on that some other time.) Anywho, he saw me runnin' down the road near Kharanos and stopped fer a quick how-do and a snapshot, which were real polite of him.

RUN!!

I's just a simple orc and I's sometimes a step or three behind them high-INT clothies. I were wearin' me dwarf costume and doing some priesty business when I gets this warning. Maybe the place were about to blow up and Teej were really desperately tryin' ta get me out? Perhaps an invasion of bloodthirsty Troggs? Ice trolls had penetrated the outer defenses? Or the radioactive gasses from nearby Gnomegron had seeped their way through gaps in the rocks? Or did TJ have information that my disguise had been pierced and I were only moments from being arrested and thrown inta some deep dark pit, to be followed by torture and execution? I had no idea, so I hopped on one of them eagle-lion thingies and flapped my arse outta there.

Or maybe she were just funnin' me?