They's Still Out There

One Google search what often brings buggers to this here blog is "gnome porn." I ain't sure what them buggers is looking for, but what they get is this. Remember that day? That were a fine day. And some of them little hard-running easy-dieing racers? They's still out there, killing mobs and clawing they's way up the leveling ladder.So, last night's raid done got canceled, and so I go off to farm me some motes of shadow fer me Shadow Resist gear. But pretty soon I's thinking if I gotta kill one more of them voidwalkers I's gonna go stark befreakin' loony. 'Bout then I get a whisper from Gnomnclature the racer from Team Game Dame, informing me that yay! she has a demon pony now. So I sez Hey! Think that pony could get you all the way to the Scarlet Monastery? And she sez Ya, I think! so off we wents.

Now, I's run through the old SM so many times I can do it in me sleep. I can do it while catching up on me blog readings. I can do it starkers. But I ain't never done it as a priest before. Took a bit of practice figgering out how ta kill them Scarlet buggers withouts going oom every other fight. No AoE attack, or even a multi-target attack like cleave, fer shadow priests. But I eventually settled on a Naughty Touch and Face Smelting routine, interspersed with some wanding and Floppy Shadow tanking.

And when the dust settled, we were victorious. Bosses were dead, experience was gained, and little Gnomnclature got teh hat. Way, way more fun than killing 500 more voidwalkers.

Gnome Racing Porn

So there we was. Several hundred gnomes, most of us freezin' our fannies off as we stood starkers in the snow. I'd hit up a mage to transmogrificate meself and a goofy young Tauren friend from me guild. As a gnome I were calling meself "Ratgnome" and she were going by "RaceWinner". A bit optimistic there, but whatevers.

We was all fired up fer the Great Race, from Coldridge Valley to Menthanol Harbor. Why was we doing this? Buggered if I know - I can't be bothered ta keep track of the details. I just know we was gonna run.

The famous cat Hobbes and his dwarven minion were theres to be the celebrity race starter.

There we all is, hanging out while we waits fer the start. I'm the short one.

"Let's get this show on the road!"

And we's off. Listen to the thunder of lots and lots of tiny feet.

The more experienced racers were eager to share they's words of wisdom.

"I like livin dangerous"

Wolves attacking? "INCONCEIVABLE!"

For a bits we had a belf rogue in the midst, picking off any gnomes what had flagged theyselves.

Through the pass to Loch Modan! I's made it this far okay.

Lots and lots of cute little gnaked gnomies.

We all leveled up about the same point, just as we got down outta the pass into the Wetlands. It were like watching a fireworks show or sumthins.

Despites our new second season uber-ness, them Wetlands were a killing field.

I's startin' ta feel oozy.

Bugger, I's dead, and me corpse be way back there. Run, run, run. Hey lookies! It's me racing partner! Hows come she didn't get deadified?

Another casualty. I'd been keeping up with the pack, but once I started deadifying I were in the back with the other stragglers.

You can sees on the map just how far behind me partner I got.

Yay! I can sees the endinging point!

Is the post-race celebrating.

And the more celebrating.

Somebody thought it woulds be a good idea ta summon a Doomguard. Didn't see it happen, so I makes no accusations as ta who did it. Anyhows, we little gnomies had great funs pretending it we could hurt it. I hads ta leave soon afters, so I missed the portals to Shattrath, but I expects the funs continued well inta the night.

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.

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.