Is Vacationizing Time

I's taking a bit of break from adventuring. Going to some "Relax and be happy" place fer a week. Travel agent told me all abouts it, but I can't be bothered to remember the details. Something about a castle, and some princesses, and the last boss be some bad-arse elite rodent. Whatevers. Hope he drops some nice loot.

Anyways, I may put up a post or two ta keep you buggers happy, but no promises.

Now, go kill things and take they's stuff.

His Heart Be Full of Unwashed Socks

So I's up in the Alterac Mountains, farming snowballs fer some of me young friends to power they's Winter Veil gifts. And I says to myself, "Self, there ain't nobody here. A week ago when you tried to hunt the Abominable Greench it couldn't be done 'cause there was so many other folks here muddying up the waters. But now there ain't nobody. Why don't you go look fer the buggerthunker?"

Took me about 30 seconds to find his hairy arse. Took way less than that to put it down. I scoop some more snowballs, then hops back over to Org and looks up the Smokywood Pastures Goblin. He's so pleased for to get his box of stolen treats back, he done give me a special gift.

Boingy-Ears' Big Debut

Keeping good on her promise ta run Dak through dungeons 'til his eyes bleed, me friend Hydra took him into the Stockades and Blackfathom Depths the other night, so's he could pick up a ring and some bracers. A little grinding in Westfall, and the bugger reached his nineteenth season and put on the rest of his gear.

At this point his health be running around 1300, which is way more than I had at that point in me career, and three times what little DangerMouse was packing last weekend. And he ain't gotten off his lazy arse and gotten his enchants done, so that'll probably add another couple hundred. So, time ta put it to some use.

This be Warts On Gulch weekend, so the timings be perfect. His first match took less time ta win than he'd been waiting in the queue, with the Sentimentals beating the Ninnies 3-0. He says he got some licks in, but I suspectifies that it were so mismatched in didn't matter if he were there or not. Second match were different - Ninnies jumped out to a 2-0 lead, then the Sentimentals dug in and screwed they's courage to the stickin' place (see! I's got culture!) and after about 45 minutes they eked out a 3-2 win. Dak sez he had hisself a grand time, charging and hamstringing and bashing and generally trying to be the shoe in the other buggers' machine. His numbers was only about average, but as I understands it that's how it oughtta be fer us warriors.

Afters he were in Stormwind checkin' his mail and whatnot when this tall drink of Nelflesh comes up and starts talkin' to him. Turns it it were A____, one of the veterans in his twinky-dinky guild. She checked out his gear and his form and bitch-slapped him a coupla times in a friendly way fer not having a tabard yet. Then she goes and buys him one (he's wearin' it in the pic aboves) and sez "Wear yer colors proud, newb!" or somethings like that. Then she invites him to do some 2v2 arenafications with her. "Sure" he says, all clueless.

They did three rounds together, winning'em all. I expects she were checking out his action, seeing if he were a trainable guppernumper or just a complete waste of oxygen and pixels. Looks like he didn't totally fuhg up, 'cause afters she said she were lookin' forwards to runnin' BGs with him (after he's had some more practice). So goods fer him.

Okay, yeah, that last post was kinda random

I were feeling a little intoxificationized. So I were singing in me blog. Probablies best you couldn't hear.

Goin' Out West

I know karate
VooDoo too!
I'm gonna make myself
Available to you.
I don't need no makeup
I got real scars
I got hair on my chest
I look good without a shirt!

First Blood

This rotting piece of Forsakenflesh be DangerMouse. She's affiliated with Team Ratshag, but since she be in another serververse she's pretty much an independent operator. Say hello, you buggers.

Reason little DangerMouse be getting some recognition is she's the first Team Ratshag member to venture out inta a battleground and get her PvP thing on. Now, I ain't able to give her no monies or nuthin', and she'd never been planning on battlegrounding, so she went into battle with only a few quest or rep reward greens, and a dinky 441 heath. So good fer her. Apparentlies some of her teammates was less than thrilled with her assets, but that were just too bad, and most of the time nobody said nothing. I asked her about her first WhosOnFirst Gulch experience, and she sez "Well, Rats, it was all very confusing, but basically I ran to where the action seemed to be and stabbed people a lot." So there you has it.

She reported that her first match were a walk in the park, with a coupla heavy-hitters smashing up the Alliance side formation and allowing her to pick off stragglers. Turns out that were mostly beginner's luck, as her side ended up on the receiving end in her next four matches. Nevertheless, she picked up seven marks of honor and 120 or so honor points, putting her about a third the way to getting a sparkly new necklace, which'll set off the unhealthy pallor of her skin so nice.

1st WSG Results

I know a Bugger what knows a Bugger

So, I's sponsoring this boingy-eared warrior what's gonna go be a Warsong Gulch twink. All this means is that we share a RL avatar. I can't provide him no material support, 'cause (A) he's Alliance, and (B) he be in an entirely different serververse. At first, I'm thinking that's fine - I ain't interested in choosing sides in that Whoresong Gulch Ninnyfest. But, I thought some more, and figured the boy's gonna need some enchants, and maybe a few extra pieces of gear what can't be found in the red-mask bandido and whacked-out druid dungeons. And bugger knows I gots plenty of cash and nuthin' to spend it on these days. So I could buy him the goods he's gonna need easy. It be the getting it to him what be tricky.

So I'm talking to me houseservant Boy Friday about this. Friday's a simple creature, but he never leaves Orgrimmar, and sometimes he hears stuff while he's hanging out in the auction house or by the mailbox. "You got any thoughts on how we could help this poor nuggerchumper out?" I asks. "Ain't like we can count on that heartbreaker Aurum to break open her piggybank fer him alongs with everthin' else."

"Hmmm .... I know a bugger what knows a bugger. Give me a coupla days, boss. I see what I can come up with."

So, I stockpiled up stuf while I waited. I smithed up a iron counterweight fer his two-hander, I found a coupla righteous orbs to get a Crusader enchant (no, not them righteous orbs!), a pair of hulking boots for his hulking nelf feet, a snazzy cloak, and various shards and dusts and whatnot fer stamina and strength and agility enchants. Cost a few hundred gold all told, which weren't too bad.

So then I go check with Boy Friday, and he sez "Here's the deal. You give me the goods. I's gonna give'em to this shady character in Tanaris (no names!) what's gonna put'em on the auction block there. Then this other bugger's gonna buy them and give'em too this to Salmanella (she's this hummy warlock what be a junior member of Team Ratshag) in Ironforge. Then you gotta bribe the BlizzarGods to send her to Dak's serververse, where he can hands'em over to him."

Now, normalies I can't be bothered to keep track of the details, but this one were kinda important, so I kept an eye on things best I could. The transfer at the Gadget auction house went without a hitch. Once Sal had her hands on the goods I submitted me bribe petition to the Blizzardgods. They said it could take up to three days, but it were actually only about an hour and a half 'til Sal were transported over. She then delivers it all to Dak, easy as choppin' bunnies. Now he just needs ta get his purple-haired butt up to the 19th season, and he'll be good to go.

Why You Here?

It's Winter's Veil, ya dumb buggers!

Why you reading silly orc blogs instead of spending time with yer families, singing songs and opening presents and gettin' blitzed on holiday spirits? Huh?

Fuhggit. Get outta here.

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?

What the Fuhg Kinda Name is That?

"Shaaroon?"

"Yeah, Shaaroon."

"Why'd you name him that?"

"I didn't name him. It just is his name."

"That's no name fer a demon. Sounds like a kinda nut."

"Careful there Ratshag. You'll piss him off."

"Pfft. Shaaroon might get pissed. You two is what, twelfth season?"

"Fifty. I's closing in on you, big brother."

"Double pfft. Shaaroon. Sounds like a little girl. Does little girl things when ya ain't bossing him around. Picks berries ta make jam or something. Manaberries for Sharroon."

In the end, we settled this philosophical discussion on the appropriateness of Gogmoth's new Felguard's appellationizing in the time-honored tradition of brothers: I pinned him ta the ground and gave him noogies 'til he couldn't take no more. He tried ta get Shaaroon (what a goofy name) to help him, but the ugly bugger just stood there and said "Too pathetic to fight your own battles?"

'Course, I is proud of me little brother. He's come a long way from the scrawny little geek what would sacrifice chickens when Ma weren't lookin' in the hope of summoning a Pit Lord and making it clean his room. But I can't be runnin' around saying that. Don't want it goin' ta his head or nuthin'.

They's Just Creepy

I understands that everybody wants to get into the Winter's Veil spirit, even if they's really just in it fer the loot. But these two in Undercity really creep me out.

Who says Dwarf Wimmen ain't Sexy?

Not me. Not the Gun Lovin' Dwarf Chick, neithers. Go checks out her femme fatalacious look!

You calls that a Winter's Veil Tree?

Look at this travesty. It be the Winter's Veil tree what's sitting in the middle of Shattrath. It's all glowy and sparkly and what the fuhg is that thing on the top of it? Looks like a freakin' star.

Goofy Shattrath Tree

Now, here's the Winter's Veil tree what be in Orgrimmar. It's got skull-balls and chains and half the stuff be broken, to honor the changing of the seasons. And on top? A good old-fashioned horned skull. Yessir. In Orgrimmar, they still know how to keep the traditions alive. Good fer thems.

A Proper Winter's Veil Tree in Orgrimmar

5 worst wipes

Pelides the Delusional Hunter tagged me to throw down me five worst wipes. Hmmmm. Truth is, the five worst ones was all back-to-back on Mr. Blackheart the Inciter over in Shadow Lab. But that don't make fer much of a story, so I's come up with some other memorable wipifications.

Number the Five: Faceplant in Shadowfang Keep
This were me first time running an instance. I were over-leveled fer Shadowfang, maybe in me 32nd season or thereabouts, and I were runnin' with a bunch of young belfs, like maybe 18-22. Not knowin' what I were about, I'd gone in with not enough arrows and had run out halfway through. So I were relyin' on aggro pulls - sneak up on the nasty, go "boo!", then let it chase me back to the belfs. So we's workin' our way through the place and we get this point where we wanna go up the stairs to the left, but up above us is one of them Sons of Arugal. He ain't payin' much attention to things, sorta snoozing, so we thinks maybe we can slip by him. I goes first, no problems. Then cames Bashaen me little healer and Ag, who were a decent little pally even though he had the mind of a child. The Son of A is still dozing off up above us. Then comes young Bashella the 'lock - barely into her 18th season - tiptoeing around the corner. Like many low-level adventurers, she gets kinda clumsy in tight spots and forgets howta walk all quiet-like. Sure eough, Wham! she trips over the first stair and lands on her imp. "Oh sure! It's the little guy!" he hollers. Well, of course this wakes up the Arugal kid. He runs off, sounding the alarm. We can hear him tearing around through the walkway above us, waking up all the other SofA's and they's ghost doggies. Pretty soon, he they comes down the stairs, musta been about fifteen of 'em. I fought the good fight, but they swarmed over us and stomped us all pretty dang thoroughly.

Number the Four: Just pick off the sick and weak from the herd
Way back when, me and Aelion the cheeky Blood Elf hunter was just a couple of kids, killing stuff in the Barrens for fun and profit. One night we'd hooked up and knocked out a buncha quests, killin' quillboars and silithilithids and dwarf miners and the like. Afters, we's walking back to Camp Taurajo and I's pretty close to levelling up, so we figures we kill some lizards and hyenas, for ta push me over the edge. As we's heading up the road, exterminating the local fauna, this herd of kodos comes by, heading the other direction. These was big nuggerlumpers, big enough that it woulda been hard fer me to take one down on me own, but with a hunter in tow I figures we'll be fine. I'll tag'em one at a time, startin with the sick and elderly ones on the edge of the herd, and we'll take'em down fer some easy experience.

Can ya see where this is heading?

So I pulls out me bow and starts to target the first one. Just as I lets the arrow go, Aelion says "Oh, wait, I'm not sure that's a good -"

twang!

"- idea."

Arrow hits the kodo, which turns and starts towards us. So does the one next to it, and the next one, and the matriarch, and the hole fuhggin' herd. Uh-oh.

Well, we got stomped flatter'n a coupla pancakes, plus a smaller pancake what used to be Aelion's kitty, and had to do the corpse run thing. Fotunately, Aelion didn't hold it against me, chalking it to me being just a simple orc. Although, months later, he did convince me to jump off the edge of the world to see what would happen, so I's ain't entirely sure ...

Number the Three: "How Can You not See the Tank? He's got a Fuhggin Giant Orange Circle on his head???"
I was at the inn in Area 52, still lazing in bed while a coupla members of the Goblin Bikini Team fixed me breakfast and tryin' to tune out the Scrybabies and Aldorks bitching at each other downstairs, when I gets a call from Zinzi. "Yo, Ratter, mon! I'm in a group heading over to Shadow Labyrinth but we ain't got a tank. Can you do de job?"

"Well, I think so. But that's a lot tougher than anything I's tanked before ... " (which were true, at the time)

"Good enough for me, mon. Come on down ta Auchindon, okey-dokey?" So down I heads.

Well, we's advancing through the dungeon reasonably well. Ambassador Hellmaw goes down, nice as ya please, and we clears out the trash all the ways to the Misters Blackheart the Inciter. If you ain't familiar with this bugger, he's a two-headed ogre what can mind-control yer whole party and send them running around whacking each other random-like fer a short period of time. He does like every minute, and afters he switches brains and forgets who the most threatening-seeming bugger in yer party was. Means that as the tank, I needs to get all in his face again so's we can get back to the business of killing him. What a friggin' pain for me, 'cause after the "Time for fun!" mind-control party ends, I mights be halfway across the room. Now, if'n everybody'll just hold on a second or five, I'll go catch him and do me threatening thing and then we can slam his ass down.

But that would be too easy.

Soon as the first mind control hilarity ends, the warlock and mage starts blazing away. So of course Big Double-Head starts after them (don't remember which - coulda been either). Said fool tries to run away - buggered if I know where. Not to me, that were for certain. Zinzi wastes mana trying to keep the dumb squishie alive, and it all falls apart and we wipe and gots to do the ghost run back from the graveyard.

We try again. Same dang result.

The rogue what were in charge of this PUG says "Okay. Wait until you see at least three sunders on him before ya starts blasting." Sound strategy. Does they wait? Course not. More wiping ensues.

The rogue be really pissed off now. He does his magic group leader icons over the head trick and suddenly I got me a big orange circle over me head. "You get aggro, you run to the tank, ya friggin idiots" he sez. Okay, so I added the last part, but I's sure he were thinkin' it. Do they run to me when they get aggro? Pfft. I's still having to chase everybody down, trying to get close enough to get in me taunts and sunders.

It weren't til maybe our tenth try before we finally did for the bastard. I suspects what happened were Zinzi gave up on her idealistic "I must keep all my teammates alive" sentimentalities and just let the two casters die. Somewhere in there the rogue got squashed too, but Zin kept me standing and I slowly beat his two-headed arse to the ground, screaming "Who's yer daddy now, beeyatch??!?" the whole time. Course, afters, I were so exhausted I completely fergot to loot the Book of Fel Names. Arrghs.

In hindsight, I realizes there was more tricks I coulda used what would've helped get the aggro back faster. Dance over to berserker mode and intercepts, fer example. But great googly moogly, them finger-wigglers sure didn't need to make that operation so bloody hard.

Number the Two: "Don't Swim in the Lava"
A whiles back (before I dinged 70, but pretty close) I were running a young Tauren hunter through Ragefire Chasm down under Orgrimmar. Maybe hopings to get her some loot, but mostly just so she could get a sense of what it look like to be in a dungeon. So I's cruising along, killing everything in sight and making sure nobody goes after the kid. We's almost to the end when Whoops! - I ain't paying attention to where me feet is and I slips into a lava pool.

Oh, bugger.

Okay, don't freak out, just find a way out. But the walls is too steep. Gots to be a way out. You know, I's getting really cooked. Hurries it up. Maybe I can climb out over here. No? Crap, I's dead.

At this point the troggs or cultists or whateverthefuhg it were I'd been beating on before I slip stop jumping up and down at the edge of the pool and charge the poor hunter. And so we wiped. In the easiest dang instance in all Azeroth.

Number the One: "Zinzi glues Ratter's feet to the floor"
Tempest Keep. The Mechanar. About as big as big time ever got fer The Purge. We'd stuck our noses in the week before on a whim, killed some trash, got stuck on LegoMeister Capacitus. But this time we was Serious. We had us a Plan. And he were gonna go Down.

Starts with Zinzi (who gives good resurrection) saying, "okay, you know dem cute young boys I been runnin' Kara wit'? Well, mon, dey showed me dis trick ta beat Capacitus real easy."

The plan were pretty simple. There's a flight of stairs leading down from the entrance part of the Mech down to the factory floor. After clearing all the trash in the area, the group goes back to the stairs, maybe halfways up, and waits. Meanwhiles, the tank (that's me) walks up towards LegoHead and fires a shot at him for to get his attention. Then the tank needs to haul ass back through the factory floor and up the stairs. Then, about a third of the way up, I's supposed to turn and start whacking on RoboBoss, who by this point is on the floor next to the stairs, but be tall enough what we can fight. So he stays on the floor, and his nether bombs ain't smart enough to come up the stairs, so they's all gonna detonate down below us not hurting nobody. Tank'im and spank'im, and easy loots. What could go wrong, right? Pffft.

Starts off fine - everybody's on the stairs, I fires a shot at ChromeDome, he goes "You should split while you can!", and I's running. Sharp turn to the right, still running, sharp turn to the left, up the stairs, another turn to the left to face him and tank his ass, and Whoo-Hooo! Me momentum carries me right off the stairs and back down to the factory floor. They really needs a railing there. Out of Zinzi's line of sight, so no heals, but lots of bombs and a giant pissed-off robot. I goes down fast, then he's up the stairs and smashes everyone else.

Spirit Guide back in Netherstorm pops us back to life, and we mounts up for another go. First time was just practice. I's on the ball now. Right turn, left turn, left turn, and Whoo-Hoo! off the stairs I goes again. Dead tank, dead everyone else. Crap.

So, third time. Zinzi says "Ratter, mon, you's a damn clumsy orc. You just stand on the stairs, mon, right here, and we go send room-temperature Throttle to do de pullin' and de runnin'. Den he come to you and vanish and den you tank. Plus, he dead already, and blonde ta boot, so he not so much a loss if he screw it up." Then she kneels down and pulls out a tube of glue and glues me feet to the stairs, so I cant move nowhere nohow. Wishes I'd'a taken a picture, but no such lucks. Anyhow, everything went withouts a hitch. I stood still, boss comes to me, I tank, they spank, and we loots.

So, there they is. In all they's sorry, sordid detail. Me five worst wipes, as defined by me. So, now I's supposed to tag some other unlucky buggers? Okay, we'll see who's been bored enough ta read this far. In no particular order:
Almost Evil Hydrargyrum, Big Red Damh, The Kneecap Melting Priest, Keredia the Tree, and the Assault and Battery Bitch.

Priceless

The Planar Edge: 5 Primal Mights, 20 Primal Shadows, 2 Hardened Adamantite Bars, 12 Felsteel Bars, 1 Master Axesmith

Guile of Khoraazi: 199 gold, 51 silver, 72 copper, several thousand dead ogres

The Helm of Evil Laughter: 17 summons of the Headless Horseman, 1 very lucky loot roll

The Look on High Inquisitor Sally Whitemane's face when I busted into her Cathedral with nuthin' else equipped?

Priceless.

Oops

Pelides the Delusional Hunter tagged me fer to write about me five worst wipes, and I completely missed it. /embarrass Real sorries about that, mate.

But I's on the job now. Not quite ready yet, but soonish I'll post up me accounts of "Faceplant in Shadowfang Keep", "Just pick off the sick and weak from the herd", "Don't swim in the lava", "Zinzi glues Ratter's boots to the floor" and "How can you not see the tank? He's got a Fuhggin Giant Orange Circle on his head???"

Sorries, But This One Ain't Funny

But it probablies ain't about you nohow, so it's okay you just wanna moves along.

Tonight I went someplace I'd never been before, and said "hallo" to some friends I'd never met before. (It be amazing what nifty polymorphing and teleporting a mage can do if ya bribes them enough.) And to tells ya the truth, the warmth of the welcome I received blew me away. It really did. I weren't at all sure what to expect going in, and it really made me a happy orc to find out so many's was glad to see me. So thanks a bunch all, and I'll definitely be comin' back to hang with you more.

Mmmmm .... purple

So I's just browsing at the AH the other day, when this caught me eye: the Chestguard of Exile, minimum bid 700 gold. Interesting ...

I's been wearing the Chestplate of A'dal fer some time now - got it from Mr. Big Floaty Crystal hisself for hammering out an alliance betweens him and the space mummies. Comparingwise, though, the Exile piece (why's it called that? no buggerin' clue) has 162 more armor, 9 more strength, 6 more stamina, and 11 more crit, at the price of 22 hit. Overalls, a good trade up. Worth 700 gold? No, not really, but what else am I gonna spend me money on these days? So I says what the hey and put in a bid. Next day, there's no other takers and it shows up in me mailbox. Fit pretty good, so I started hunting up the mats to get it enchanted.

The nipple chain kinda threw me. I mean, what's the point, outside the armor? But then I were passing through the Cenarion Refuge to do some fishing, and this tall piece of druidflesh said to herself "I waaaaaants it!" and grabbed hold to pull me in fer some lip-to-lip action. So now it be clear.

/Drool

So, I's hanging out in a pub in Thunderbluff, working on a pitcher of fermented Tauren milk and getting meself nicely buzzed, when the blood elf all dressed up in fancy red armor sits down at me table and starts talking. Says his name is "Aeliaelionae" or something like that, and he's a recruiter for the Eye of the Storm.

"I ain't interested in no battlegrounds." I sez. "Me old man fought in the first two Wars, and he warned me away from that kinda fighting. Too easy to get yerself killed randomly fer you dunno why."

"I understand you concerns," he sez. "But the Eye is different from those old-fashioned batlefields of the past. We are thoroughly modern, with the finest of Spirit Guides to get back on your feet in no time (in the very unlikely event a fatality incident should occur). Think of the Eye as more of a practice arena, a place to sharpen your skills, with no real risk to you or your equipment. And speaking of equipment, allow me to show you the fabulous rewards I am authorized to sell to our verteran contenders."

I ain't convinced. Me whole adventuring career has been about fighting the nasties in the deep dark dungeons. Horde vs Alliance just ain't my bag - the wars is over, and it be time for rebuilding. Establishing law and order. And taking out the real threats, like the Legion of Burnin' Demons. But he's got a real shiny brochure with lots of colorful pictures, so I figures it won't kill me to take a look.

Eh. It's high-quality stuff, I'll grant ya, but it's all geared fer a balance of offense and defense. Which makes sense when yer playin' games with other heroes, but when I's soloing I want balls-to-the-wall killing power from me gear, and when I's tanking all I cares about is being as tough a nuggerbunker as possible, and other's got the job of doing the actual killing. So what he's showing me don't really fit me needs. I's about to hand it back to him and say "Thankee, but bugger off" when -

"Whoa."

The Gladiator's Shield Wall. Dang. That's got me attention. Compared to me Ogri'la Aegis (which ain't shabby in the least) it's got 1591 more armor (!!!), 3 more stamina (even after a pair of solid stars of Elune), and 25 more block value. It give up 23 defense rating, but it has 29 resilience. Great Googly Moogly. I could do some serious blocking with this bad boy. Real quick-like I pull out me handy dandy copy of Berg's tank gear rankings, and it show the shield wall pulling down more tanking points than either the Azure-Shield of Coldarra (which I ain't got the badges for) or the Crest of the Sha'tar (which I ain't got the rep for). And with me guild's progression rate pretty much parked at zero point zero, I ain't gonna be getting either of these anytime anyways. But this, I could get on me own. If, you know, I knew anything about how to fight on a battlefield and earn them whatsits, Marks of Battle Fatigue or whatever.

"You have a good eye, my friend," sez Aeliolaeoliol. "We just got those in the other day. It should suit a warrior of your caliber nicely. Just sign here and I can get you a slot in this weekend's battle. For the Horde!"

So, what is it I's planning to do? I got know idea. Probably die a lot. Hopefully absorb enough damage to give our side time to win so I can get more Marks of Honor Roll. Maybe. Most likely I'll just stand around going "huh? what? *dead*"

But I really wants that shield.

Stranglethorn Vale

Got a card from me warlock friend Ellspeth recently. "Booty Bay is here. Wish you were beautiful. Tootles!" Heh. Ain't she the cutest little soul-devouring psychopath? Apparently she and her big goofy-but-huggable hunter partner have made it to Stranglethorn Vale and are busy helping Nesingwary the Junior and his friends put more beasties on the endangered species list.

Stranglethorn Vale was not my favorite locale, out of all the places me adventures took me. Now I have heard some say that unless you live in one of them pvp-alternate universes where the Horde and the Alliance is in open conflict that you ain't got a right to complain about the Vale. Not to take anything away from the misery that is to be the gankee, but balderfeathers.

Stranglethorn bites, period. It sucks. It blows. It do both at the same time.

There's mosquitos the size of vultures, vines what reach out and untie yer bootlaces, and snakes crawl up yer pants and touch you most inappropriately. Not only are there pirates, zombies, and nagas, but there's zombie pirate nagas. You gots to kill trolls for they's ears; no wait they's totems; no, no, they's necklaces; wait, it's they's tusks; ah, bugger it, just kill all the trolls. Some litterbugger's managed to scatter the pages of some boring-arse book all over the dang place. And every time you have to turn in a quest at Nesingwary's you gots to shove yer way past all the dang animal rights activists.

I hated that place. Lucks to ya, little Ellspeth.

Opinionate Away

Recentlies, the Big Bear Butt Blogger and Kestrel got into a discussion regarding the "If I’m going to stare at a butt for hours on end, I want it to be attractive" issue. They was polite and constructive and behaved like adults, and I /salute thems both.

However.

In me commenting on the matter, I pointed out that even though I ain't a Nelfette or Humanette or Forsakenette, I still have a damn attractive butt. One that anyone should be happy to stare at. And that bugger Kestrel said he wanted a second opinion. So fine. Here be the backside of Ratshag. Opinionates away.

Okay, THIS is the last one

I thinks.

This here be Kiz Coilspanner, the flightmaster in Hatchet Hills, the dinky winky little outpost for thems going to the vacation hotspot of ZulamanLand. Contaries to me earlier post, he be neuter, so both Horde and Alliance can flap in.

Out of Mana Megan complains that the flight over from Ironforge is soooooo long. What can I tell ya, hon? Somedays it ain't easy being the good guys. Next time remember ta packs youself some cherry pie and a couple skins of Dwarven Stout for the flight.

So. Last green exclamation point in Azeroth. Done. No more. Fini. The End.

Bugger, I hopes I's right this time. Stupid mubbernuggin goblins ....

Armor Ratings

Great Armor

Good Armor

Really Bad Armor

Stupid Buggerin' Goblins

So, deal is, a few weeks ago I posted about picking up the last flight path in Azeroth. Felt pretty good about having tracked it down, way up in MoonTreeGladeHippyValley, or whatever it's called. That place where the druids hang and go skinny dipping without having to worry about rogues and warlocks getting the water dirty. And then what happens? Just two days later the Goblins go and set up a new one in the middle of nowheres, also known as southern Dustwallow Marshes.

Buggerin' Goblins, messing up me bloggings.

So now I gotta go check out this new town of they's. Mudsprocket, they call it. Crummy little mudball town makes Marshal's Refuge look like a friggin' boomtown, I tells ya. New Gadgetzan it ain't. No bank, no AH, no trainers, and the pickings for some professional horizontal refreshment is damn slim. But they got a flight master what'll get you to Brackenwall Village or Theramore, dependings on yer race and/or affiliation. And if ya slip him an extra 3 or 4 gold, he'll put that obnoxious dwarf paladin behind you in the queue on a one-way flight to Freewind Post, so haves some fun with that.

As far as I knows, this be the last green exclamation point, Horde-side anyways. I hear Alliance went and snuck one in Ghostlands, nears that Zul'amanLand vacation spot. But that ain't my problem.

Yay on Them

Got another update from Dakoneris. (Sonvar asks how I get messages translated - answer is I pay a mage to run'em through some babelfish thingy. Dunno how it works - I can't be bothered to keep track of the details.) Anyhow, he says that Miss Hydrargyrum and Miss Aurum and Miss Frigg and Miss Jaxs has all been helpings him out with quests and gear and mats for his professions. And he thinks they's all damn fine peoples. So yay on them.

And until I can come up with some serious cleverfications, I can't do nuthin' to reciprofy. They's just doing it 'cause they nice (despite that one of'em is also evil). So I says double yay on them.

And Jaxs helped the lad get some decent pants today, so he won't catch cold runnin' around in that skimpy loincloth. I thinks that's for the best.

A Progress Report

Got an update from Dakoneris, the Night Elf twinky-dinky I's sponsoring. First thing I have to say is, Dude, nice pants. Or lack thereof. I knew it - Hydra's having her some fun dressing up her toy WSG warrior.
Lessee now, he's now in his fourteenth season. He reports that he and Miss Hydrargyrum (he talks so formal-like) have cleaned up some bandits in Westfall and evil druids in the Barrens. TRANSLATION: Hydra wiggled her fingers and slagged the poor buggers' faces off while Dak ran along behind with a wheelbarrow and scooped up loot. Looks like they pulled in some decent junk, too: Blackened Defias Armor, Cobrahn's Grasp, Gold-Plated Buckler, Venomstrike, Taskmaster Axe, Smite's Reaver, Serpent's Shoulders. Great googly moogly. I sure coulda used some of that when I were a young whippersnapper. Course he can't use none of it 'til he's a bit more seasoned, so right now he's got one huckuva bank account. Note that the shoulders and chestpiece is leather, not mail. Hydra likes her some leather.

And he says Miss Frigg (he so polite) sent him a Searing Blade, what just happened to be sitting in her bank account. Yeah-huh. Looks like Hydra ain't the only one having fun dressing up the lad.

So what's this boingy-eared warrior doing when he ain't showing off his legs for the wimmenfolk to make goo-goo eyes at and slip him blues? He says he's been studying engineering, progressing far enough to make hisself a pair of Flying Tiger goggles, which he's planning to replace with Green Tinted goggles soonish. I's pleased to hear he has his first aid and fishing skills maxed out, but the boy is lagging on his cooking. Tsk, tsk.

Well, all-in-all I'd haveta say the boy's coming along. And Hydra's doing a good job of helping him along, which I appreciates since there ain't nuthin' I can do fer the purple-haired bugger. Maybe another week and he'll be in Warsong Gulch defending the honor of the lumber, or whatever it is them Silvertoungue Sensibles do.


And yeah, I said I weren't gonna post for a while. Well, I changed me mind. Up yours.

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.