Friday, February 27, 2009

Is One Down

Been working on my blacksmithing, working up a righteous sweat at the forge and lettin' the wimmens enjoy watching me work without me shirt. And I's skilled up and trained up and now I's ready fer ta start making some epics fer me guildies. First up, a Big Stick of Whoop Ass fer Mog the Death Knight.

Means I done got Goal and Priority Number the Two taken care of. Next up? Buggered if I know; guess we finds out together.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Vyprania's Story: The Rogue, The Paladin And The Druids

"Team Ratshag Secret Headquarters" said the sign on the door. I was surprised to find a grin creep onto my face. The Orc had an odd sense of humor, I was coming to realize, something seldom seen in Ebon Hold.

I knocked on the door. A minute later, it was opened by a small, hunched-over woman. She peered up at me, if "peered" was the right word. Her eyes were missing, leaving two dark empty sockets in the middle of her face. She was also missing large pieces of flesh, and what remained didn't look to be held on to well. In all honesty, the ghouls I raised while doing fieldwork often looked healthier

"You're early!" she snapped at me venomously. "I'm sstill baking the pies!"

"Ratshag said 6:30..." I said, taking half a step back reflexively.

"Fegh! It'ss not a raid. You don't get kicked for being late. But ssince you're here, come on in." As she stepped back out of the doorway, she straightened up enough for me to see she was wearing an apron with the words "If ye must pynche something, pynche the cooke!" on it.

I followed her into what was essentially a large apartment. A large central room with sofas, chairs, and small tables, a second room on one side with a large table which looked like it was sometimes used for eating and sometimes for meetings, and three small bedrooms to the other side. In the back was a well stocked kitchen and pantry. Just outside the kitchen were three tubs filled with crushed ice and bottles of beer. The Forsaken woman, Danger Mouse she said her name was, nonchalantly picked a bottle out and popped the cap off with an exposed bone in her elbow.

"Here. Rats getss grumpy if you don't drink his crappy beer, so I always pour one out before he getss here and fill the bottle with some dwarven ale."

The bottle she handed me had a cheap label proclaiming it to be "Uncle Bonechomper's Day Old Piss". Lovely. However, I really didn't want to risk offending my host so early in our relationship, and my senses of smell and taste had been dulled considerably since my dark rebirth, so I went ahead and took a swallow. It was ... tolerable.

Mouse was scurrying, for lack of a better word, about the kitchen, throwing ingredients together, pulling pans and implements out of drawers, cleaning others and throwing them back in drawers. I tried to pitch in and help, and received a thwack on the back of my hand hand with a wooden spoon. I backed off before she decided to use the rolling pin next, and settled for polite conversation while she worked.

I found out that she'd been born Nancy Burnside, and grew up outside of Andorhal. She'd been 17 years old when the Scourge outbreak killed her. To me, this sounded like an infant, but humans live such short lives. In fact, she was considered an adult she assured me, and had been planning to marry a man, and leave her parents house. Bob, his name was, or maybe Richard. She wasn't sure anymore. But the plague had come, and apparently she had risen and been absorbed into the Scourge army. Unlike me, she had no memories of this time. Rank-and-file zombies were not required to do much thinking, unlike Death Knights. She came to herself some six months after Sylvanas began her uprising and found herself caught in the midst of the fighting between the Scourge and the Forsaken. She'd managed to work her to Tirisfal Glades, and eventually Ratshag had found her. She'd never been able to find any records of what happened to her family - most likely they had all perished. She said this as if it did not matter, but I was not in the least fooled. She started to mention the human rogue who had become infatuated with her, much to her pleasure, Khol something, when other people began to arrive and she dropped the subject.

There was Ellspeth, a Blood Elf, who promised very sweetly to drain my soul last of all. Phoenicia, a Dwarf with fiery red hair a personality to match, encouraged me to "keep yuir feet on the groond!", which made no sense but seemed friendly and well-intentioned. Another Forsaken, introduced as Galertruby, was most anxious to talk to me. Unfortunately, he was in an even worse state of decay than Nancy, and was completely missing his lower jaw, rendering him completely unintelligible. So I listened, unable to understand a word, and did my best no nod and make affirmative sounds at the right moments. This seemed to work, and eventually he patted me on the arm affectionately and headed off toward the tubs of beer. And of course there was Ratshag himself, who let out an excited roar when he saw me and lumbered over to give me an enveloping hug. The voices in my head screamed at this overwhelming invasion of my personal space - Pestilence! Strangulate! - but I forced a smile onto my face and even managed to gently pat him on the back.

There were others, perhaps a dozen or so, and most were at least politely welcoming. Except for one. A human female with black hair and a red checkered shirt took one look at me and very pointedly walked to the far side of the apartment, glowering. After a minute, Ratshag walked over and began talking to her. They kept their voices low, but we Elves hear better than other races and I could make out much of what they were saying, even over the other conversations in the room.

"... no frickin' way, Ratters!"

"... needs us. Nowhere else to..."

"... Lich bitch traitor ... can't trust ..."

"... know what I'm doing ..."

"... it away from me!"

"That'ss Kinnavieve," said Nancy, next to me. "She has a problem with dead people."

That was it. I just couldn't handle that. No matter how nice Ratshag was, and Nancy, and some of the others, I had to get out. The hatred, the distrust, the contempt - I couldn't take it. Not again. I turned and started walking rapidly toward the door, only to find it blocked by two newcomers.

They were both young by Night Elf standards, these two newcomers, but quite tall. The one was well over seven feet, possibly seven three. She was wearing nothing but some worn leather pants and a bra, and had she was holding a small wooden crate with air holes in one arm. She had a dragon tatooed on her left shoulder, as well as other markings on her hand and ankle. The other, still practically a child but only a few inches shorter, was wearing a simple black dress and sandals. I recognized her, and my heart sank. Palintera Nightwhisper. I'd fought with her father at Mount Hyjal, and seen him die. If that paladin had a problem with me, and my betrayals, how badly must this young Elf loathe me and what I had done?

We stood facing each other. I blinked, unsure how to get past them without making things worse. For some reason, they were both grinning at me, and bouncing up and down, as if excited about something. After a moment, the taller one held out the crate. "We got this for you," she said. "It's a bunny!"

Unsure how to respond, I looked at it. Yes, there was indeed a small white rabbit hopping around inside. And then Palintera stepped forward, arms reaching for me. I tensed, ready to run or, if necessary, defend myself.

But it wasn't an attack. It was an embrace - warm, gentle, almost maternal. Not at all like the boisterous bear hug the Orc had given me earlier. "Welcome home, my sister," she said softly. "Welcome home."

And for once, the screaming in my head faded away. I found myself leaning into that warmth, my arms holding onto her for support. Tension that I had carried for so long I had almost forgotten it was there seeped away, my legs felt weak, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

After so many years, I had made it home.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

New Patch 3.1 Infos!

Pffft! Yeah, right.

Go read some other blog what cares about glubberthumpin details.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Me RL Avatar Been Actin' All Independent

He do that sometimes. Gets ta thinkin' what he's real and I's a figment of his glubbertunkin' imagination, rathers than the other way rounds. Anywho, he's done gone and writ up this story what ain't got nuthins ta do with me. If yer interested, is can be found over here.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Is Meme Time

Here be pic #6 from, well, it ain't from me sixth sub-folder, fer I ain't got that many, but anywho. Is Ellspeth's and me's friend Suptail the hunter, doing somethin' on the beach in Tanaris.

Is thanks ta Rip fer taggin' me, and now I tags five of you buggers. You know who you is. Don't make me name names.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Evil Perfume, Lovely Dresses, and Pie Vendors

So, where did it start? /thoughtful Pali

Oh, right! Feralicious was in Stormwind, where she'd gone to get her haircut. Well, she could have done that in Darnassus, which would have been closer, but she wanted a new tattoo as well, one of those tribal ones that humans are real big on. So, Stormwind.

But, after she was done, she sent me a whisper: "Pali! You gotta come check this out - everyone's putting on perfume and hitting on the NPCs, and they're giving out presents in return. Come! Now!"

So I hearthed out to Shattrath, then took the portal back to Stormwind, and it was just like she said! The guards and vendors and even the beggars were handing out presents - candy and rose petals and rockets and all sorts of things. And the city was filled with the smell of perfume and cologne - everyone was wearing one or the other, and sometimes both. It was crazy.

Well, we had fun putting on perfume and flirting with the guards for presents for a bit, but then this man approached us. "I think there's something wrong in these perfumes and colognes," he said. "Something nefarious. Please, take some to the alchemist and have him analyze them right away." We did, and the alchemist found "traces of substances used in love potions and insidious mind-altering draughts." But who would do such a thing? It was a mystery, and we were going to get to be detectives!

/Excited Pali

The clues led us all the way to the Alterac Mountains. There we found this undead apothecary who was making the perfumes, and we were so going to kick is butt. But then the ghost of his old girlfriend showed up and told him to stop, and he felt really bad and said he would and looked all sad and pathetic, so mostly we just felt sorry for him. And he had some dresses that he was going to use for Phase Two, but since he'd decided not to be evil anymore he said we could have them.
I took a red one, and Feral went with the blue.
/pretty druids

On the way back to Southshore, we stopped to watch the moon set. It was very lovely.
Just between you and me, don't 'licious' back and shoulders look totally hawt? I mean, it just makes me want to ... um ... well ... hmmm ... maybe I should keep that between me and me. Because, well, you know ....
/blushing Pali

We also ran into a troll hermit up in the foothills. He looked pretty lonely, so we partied with him for a while to cheer him up.
Mmmm.... troll sandwich!

When we got to Ironforge, we still had our totally evil perfume and some love tokens, so we had some more fun with NPCs. Feralicious hit on the pie vendor, and he was so excited he gave her a lovely black dress. But she said it looked better on me, and she put her old trousers back on. Wasn't that sweet of her? And she kinda did have a point; I mean, she does look great in tight leather pants and not much else.
The achievement said Flirting With Disaster, but I assure you, there was nothing disastrous about it. Mmm mmm, sweet cherry pie. I mean, we've been-

Omigoddess, is that the sun coming up? Oh, my mom is so going to kill me!

GoddessWatchOverYou, IGottaGo! Bye!

Raiding On A Budget

In order to cut down on expensive repair bills, many of Aetherial Circle's raiders are choosing to go naked.
I really cannot approve of this. Not only does it make the fights harder, but it's not ... well ... I don't want to sound like a prude or Palintera's mother, but it's not decent!

(Although, Tay does look really fine without his shirt on. And his legs.... oh, mama, may I?)

**deep breath** Still. Not right.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Love Is Still In The Fuhggin' Air

Ever since Kinna went and whacked Big Roy so them pirates could make soap, them reef bulls and reef cows been needing help fer ta gets it on. One would think it'd come naturals, at least after a bit of practice, but apparentlies not.

Anywho, them walrus dudes needs the revenue from they's "Reef Cows Gone Wild" videos fer ta support they's economy, and Kinnavieve is off in Icecrown these days, so guess who done got the job of playin' Peddlefeet.

Lucky me.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

A Letter to Vonya

Love is in the air, my sweet hyacinth of discipline. Can you not smell it? Perhaps you can smell the fine cologne I am wearing - few men would be willing to go to the extravagance of one silver coin a bottle, but a beauteous lady like yourself is well worth it. It's lovely fragrance has been causing the ladies of Stormwind to give me their Pledges of Adoration when I give them my Looove Tokens. Some men might be afraid to admit to having passed their tokens out to other ladies, but I know you are a sophisticated woman of the world, and understand that a man cannot limit himself.

Do I not look dashing in my new Dinner Suit? And Bonemuncher, is she not lovely in her Red Dress? Or his, I have never been quite sure... Bonemuncher! Stop eating the friendship rings - they are not for you! Where was I? Ah, yes. We found them in a mad alchemist's bubbling cauldron of green ooze. Where better to find fine attire?

Tonight, you and I will share a Romantic Picnic dinner in someplace romantic and secluded. Such as the Pestilant Scar, no? I will shower you with rose petals, and feed you sweet morsels from from a box of chocolates, and playfully pull your tail. And as the passion builds, I will show you my love rocket, and you can show me you bag of candies. I will make your blood boil with excitement, and you can do that ... thing ... with your horns. I am not quite sure what it is, but that foul orc assures me it is quite worth the effort.

I shall pick you up at eight tonight, my darling petunia, and we shall make it an evening to remember. Ah, but first! There is a lovely young guard, and she is in desparate need of my love token. Until tonight, you shall have to content yourself with the memory of me and my amazingness, and swoon.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Is Friday Night Drunken Movie Quoting Name Thingy ...hic!

Ezekial 25:17
The path of the righteous bugger is beset on all shides by the inequitizings of the selfish and tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who in the name of charity and good lewts shepherds the shquishies through the Valley of Darknessh, for he is truly his brother's keeper, and the finder of lost flubbernuggers ...hic!. And I will strike down on thee with great vengeance and furious rage those who attempt to poishon and destroy me squishies. And you will know my name is fuhggin Ratshag, when I lay my vengeance upon thee!

I'd just as soon kissh a Wookiee.

Phoenicia and Galertruby:
You only give a shite aboot anybody but yuirself. Everyone of yuir classmatesh knows it. You think they'd trust you behind the controls of a plane that they'd have to fly in? I picture you as the kind of guy that'd zip off one day in my F-14 and sell it to the Burning Legion. Right?

Arlaghag! Gallhr glah garrahhalglar!

Shell it to the Tauren, Galertruby, sell it to the Tauren!

Agh glahhgl glahhgl garrh gahhlahglahhr, ga gallhahl ahhr...hic!

Talk ta meh. Now why would a creepy undead guy like yeh want to sign up for thish kinda abuse?

Glhagl gllha ahhr glahhlglhaarhga ghallah. Allgha glah haggalha.

My grandmoother wants ta fly jets! ...hic!

Glah alahgaral gah glahagglha!

We're nae talking aboot flying here, we're talkin' aboot character! ...hic!

Gagglra aglha gaghga glah. Ghallga allag!

Tell meh what Ah wanna hear - Ah want yuir D.O.R.

Agghl hahg!


Garhlga aglh gahhaga!

All right, then yeh can foorget it! You're oot!

Aghlahhl glarrh ghalrlhh alhhrga! Gallhr ... glah ...
Garrahhalglar agrhh glagglha!
Garrahhalglar agrhh glaggl-
Gha ghrallhalha aglh.
Gha ghrallhalha aglh.

Where's ...hic! Where'sh Major Kong?
Yeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Yeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Hee hee! And then they blew up the whole world! Isn't that sho cool?

You're going to need a bigger boat.
I mean, Cenarius' hairy balls, did you see the size of that fish?
Eeeeeep! Did I just say that?
**hide behind Feral**

Danger Mouse:
Ah. Well... I attended Juilliard... I'm a graduate of the Harvard bushiness school. I travel quite extensively. I lived through the Black Plague and had a pretty good time during that. I've sseen the EXORCIST ABOUT A HUNDRED AND SSIXTY-SSEVEN TIMES, AND IT KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER EVERY SINGLE TIME I SHEE IT... NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT YOU'RE TALKING TO A DEAD GIRL... NOW WHAT DO YOU THINK? You think I'm qualified? ...hic!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Is Where Kinnavieve Flirts With Disaster

Oh my head....

I'm not sure what happened...

I remember I was upset about my armor...

I remember there was some wine...

I remember a man ... he told me I looked beautiful in my red dress...

I remember it was like ... rose petals, falling from the sky ...

I remember ....

**Eyes wide open**
**Hands cover mouth**

Oh, by the Light, nononononononono!

Um, sir? Mister, uh, Gnome, sir? I think you need to wake up and go home now. Please?

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Is Where Kinnavieve Is NOT A Death Knight

I'm a soldier of the Light, darn it. So how come almost piece of armor I've gotten makes me look like a frickin' Lich Bitch? Bad enough Ratters invited Vyprania to join the team, now I gotta dress like her?

See my shield? Not a Death Knight!

See my handguards? Not a Death Knight!

Mutter mutter frickin' helmet mutter stupid stinky shoulders mutter mutter mutter dumb belt mutter mutter lich bitch mutter chestpiece mutter....

And now my belly button is exposed, even when I'm tanking!

It's not fair.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

We Took Turns, Twisting Each Others' Nethers

Yeah, I know ya done read it elsewheres already, but I were on the Twisted Nether Blogcast the other night, doin' the roundtable thing. Alongs with were Ego, BBBBBB, Stop, Kes, as well as Fim and the Vertically-Challenged Chick with Guns. We done talked about ... uh ... stuff. I dunno what - I cain't be bothered fer ta keep track of the details. Anywho, is over here - go downloads.

Vyprania's Story: The Orc

Ratshag, the orc's name was. I found him in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Lower City run by a Goblin named Rokk. At least, it was his name carved in a board nailed above the doorframe. At the first table were two Forsaken, heatedly arguing about something in Gutterspeak. At the second table was a Draenei paladin, asleep or passed out. And at the last table was a large orc warrior, his back to the wall as he faced the door. At first glance, he did not appear all that remarkable. His armor and weapons were a mishmash of hand-forged, rewards from service on battlegrounds, a few pieces I recognized as being from Outland, but nothing to mark him as one of the heroes of Serpentshrine Cavern or the Black Temple. As I approached him, though, I saw the scars. Dozens of them, criss-crossing his green skin. His face, his hands, and his armor all showed signs of having undergone tremendous hardships, and survived. I began to understand what that priest meant when she called him an “unsung hero.”

“You must be Vyprania,” he said, standing and extending his right hand. His grip was firm, but not overly so. “Have a seat. I took the liberty of ordering the clefthoof fajitas – they's very good here.”

“That's fine,” I said. Since my dark rebirth, I'd found that my senses of smell and taste were greatly diminished, and I found all foods to be bland and nearly indistinguishable. I ate for sustenance, but never for pleasure.

“So Cayleigh's done told me yer story. Mebbe you can tell it to me yerself at some point, but first lemme explain a bit about meself and what I call Team Ratshag. Me, I grew up in one of them concentration camps over in the Arathi Highlands, after the second war...”

As I listened to him, I realized that, while he was not hiding some of the horrific details, he was definitely underplaying them, as if they were to be expected. One sister and an uncle killed by diseases, another sister crippled while working as a slave laborer, beatings, rapes, torture. It was the escape, and the journey across the ocean to Kalimdor, and his first meeting with Thrall that mattered to him.

About this time our food arrived, along with a couple of mugs of ale. It was a huge pile of sizzling strips of meat, onions, and peppers, and a tall stack of thin disks of flatbread. “Help yerself,” he said, scooping some of everything onto one of the disks and rolling it up.

There must have been four pounds of meat on that platter, along with everything else. “I don't think I'm that hungry,” I said hesitantly.

“Oh, no worries,” he said. “Take what you want, I'll have the rest.”

His narrative continued with his picking up an axe as a young man and Durotar and hunting down the wild boars which had been destroying the crops of his village. As it led to larger and more challenging campaigns again quillboar and centaur tribes, murlocs and nagas, and even elves and humans and other members of the Alliance, I noted that he took pleasure in establishing order, but never expressed any interest in revenge, even when fighting the humans of the Eastern kingdoms, possibly the same humans who had run the concentration camps.

When I commented on this, he shrugged.

"It's over," he said. "The past, I means. What's here and now is, ya gots thems what ya care about, and care about you. Ya gots thems what'll pay you fer ta do a job. And thems what be in the way of gettin' the job done; sometimes they's in the way just by bein' alive, and ya gots ta put they's arses down. Anything else, revenge or bloodlust or collecting ears fer yer own amusement, that just gets in the way of doing The Job. And that ain't how I roll."

I blinked in surprise. This was a very different way of looking at the world than I was used to. I found it appealing, almost seductive, in its simplicity. In its willingness to accept the world as it is, and move on.

"And do the members of your ... 'Team' ... see things the same way?"

"More or less. Depends on the person. Thing is, we's all square pegs what ain't found the right hole yet, and I tries ta at least give everybody a place where we can be thems what don't got our own place togethers. Have some funs, give encouragements, that sorta thing. Mebbe someday, if the world settles down a bit we'll finds our places, but we'll see. Psychlogifying ain't really me department."

A square peg. Yes, that was me. I hadn't fit in anywhere, not since the Battle of Light's Hope Chapel. The idea of having a chance to meet other outsiders, to not feel so alone, was very very appealing. And if they don't accept you, kill them all! screamed a voice in my head, but I tried to ignore it.

"So, anywho, if ya thinks ya might be interested, drop by the place next Friday night. I'll introducifies ya to the Team, and then we takes it from there."

Interested. Yes. I was definitely interested.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Guild Message Of The Day

Is a useful tool fer to pass important imformationizings on ta the rank and file of yer guild. Is why in me small Horde guild, where we cain't afford fer nobody ta be left outta the loop, we's delegated ta Guild Officer Rimunathah the very important job of keeping it ups ta date and always relevant.

Friday, February 6, 2009

I Took The Axe

So last night me and the Purge cleared out Azrul-Naboob. Twice. Amazing how fast them bugs keep coming back - is like giant glupperthunkin cockroaches. After, me and a few of the lads ran up to troll country and did a favor fer the local dog people. I had a choice of rewards, and I went with the axe. Now, smart folks'll tell ya a fast weapon is better fer tankin' 'cause it lets ya dump rage aand generate threat through heroic strikes, but I's an orc. We's good with axes. So I took it.

Plus ya gots to admit, it looks way betters than a log with rocks stuck in it

Speaking of lookin good, I's liking how me new Northrend armor be coming along. Still got me engineering goggles and the Chestpiece of Killed Eight Kajillion Spiders, but otherwise is pretty much all new. Looks good, I thinks. With spikes. Fer comparisons, look at me old armored clown outfit from a year ago, back in Outland. 
Great Googly Moogly. Would you feel safe behind this meatshield? Buggered if I would.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Is Where Ellspeth Wants A Hit

Hi! Ellspeth here!
You know, it seems like I've been here in Stanglethorn for like, forever. Or at least a year. Even my leveling buddy Suptail left me - Ratters has been helping her in places like Blackrock Mountain and Winterspring and a bunch of other places I've never been to. I asked him to help me with my quests, but he said no, that'd be against the rules. I get all the help I want with my professions, but he can't help with quests. I told him that rules were meant to be broken, that that's what they're for! But he wouldn't budge, the big meanie.

So here I am in Stranglethorn, killing trolls. Lots and lots and lots of trolls. Ratters tells me there's going to be zombie pirate nagas too, but I haven't seen them yet. Just trolls. And tigers. And gorillas.

Speaking of trolls, when I reached my forty-second season, I caught the zeppelin over to Orgrimmar to get some training, and I ran into Rim, who had just respecced. Got tired of fire and frost, I guess.

Fine! Be that way! Just don't be surprised if someday I suck out your soul right through your eye sockets!!! Or maybe I'll get Ratters to beat you silly, or something. Hmmph.

Wonder if I can score some mana crystals off of Hannelore...

Anyway, got to get back to Stranglethorn, and all its trolls, who are almost as mean as Rim. Tootles!

Naked Heroics: Rough, Tough, and in the Buff

BBB sez he wants ya ta do boss fights naked, fraps it, then show it to him. Loves ta see that kinda action, he says. Always knew them druids had dirty minds.

Is what I loves about'em.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Kinnavieve Be Too Much A Lady Fer Ta Say This

So I's gonna say it for her. Them big hairy buggers is done gonna haveta find some other girl fer to polish they's helm and blow they's horn!
/duck shoe thrown by Kinna

Monday, February 2, 2009

BBB's A Dumbass

Is his words, not mine, and I has way to muchrespects fer the bugger ta go changing them.

Anywho, looks like he went and broke his Feedburner a month ago, so anybody what gets updates through that thinks he done went and fell off theedge of Outland or somethins. Which he ain't. So if ya ain't been gettin' no updates from ole Big Bear Butt, go to his site and re-subscribifies. He'd be most gratefuls.