Posts
It just be too much of a pain to keep posting the same crap on two different blogs. So I's shuttin' this one down. All future bloggin to be done on needmorerage.blogspot.com .
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?
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.
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.
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
... 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.
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!
So
I's in the Bone Wastes, exterminating cultists fer da shiny Marks of
Kil'ifragilisticexpialidocious what my new Aldork buddies is all
"gimme! gimme!" for. And outta the blue I gets a marriage proposal.
Obviously, she is drawn irresistibly to me combination of jawdropping
virility, clever wit, and enough stamina to tank a dragon and still
keep posting every nubberflumping day of NoMoBloMeMoDuKo.
Now, I don't wants to give the impression that I's easy by the fact
that I accepted right away. Truth is, I's known her a while now and she
is, by and large, worthy of me. Who is she? Well now, I ain't sure it'd
be gentlemanly of me to reveal that information to you mangy buggers.
She wants you to know, she'll tell ya herself. And no, it ain't Garona Halforcen or Tyrande Whisperwind, although them's good guesses.
So Ratter's days of sowing the wild oats is gonna be drawin' to a close. Get some oatifications while you cans, ladies. Once they's gone, they's gone (with exceptions for really special circumstances, of course).
There it is. The last green exclamation point in Azeroth. Had to go all the way to Moonglade to find it. This poor bugger is Faustron.
He manages the wind riders in this green hippie dippy druid paradise.
He says he has come to really, really hate hippies, and he's put in an
application for a transfer to Desolace, where "there ain't so many
fuhggin trees!"
What was I doing in Moonglade. of all places? Well, me kid brother Gogmoth is a tailor, among other things, and he's been making stuff with all the runecloth I been sending him from Outland lately. And he needed the pattern for to make the runecloth bags. You know the ones, the fourteen-slotters everone was packing back when the Black Portal opened and then we discovered netherweave? Yeah, them. Anywho, the only person what sells the pattern is this goblin in Winterspring, and Gog ain't had a chance yet to convince the furblogs what control the tunnels through the mountains that he ain't gonna eat their babies or try to sell them insurance or something equally abominable. So he can't get to Winterspring and he needs me to go get it for him. "Fine" I says. And while I's there I remembers something about tailoring patterns in the hippie dippy hollow, which I ain't never been to before. Plus, I got this really old quest I picked up in Thunderbluff to go talk to one of the treehuggers. So I go's and walks through the furblog tunnel off to the happy valley.
Turned out the tailoring plans was all bind on pickup, so Gogmoth's gonna have to drag his lazy seamstress butt up there to get them hisself. But while I was there I tracked down old Faustron, who's probably the loneliest wind rider master in all Azeroth. Felt sorry for the bugger, so I hung out with him a bit before flying back to Org. We had us a few beers and watched the hippie chickies skinny dipping in the pools, which he says is pretty much the only thing to do for fun up there. It weren't a bad way to spend the afternoon, 'til they turned into bears and cats and walruses - then we might as well have been watching the nature channel.
I hopes he gets that transfer he's after. Poor sod.
Incorporating the effects of sunder into devastate looks to be a Good Thing.
What, you want more? Pfft. Go read a blog written by some sorry bugger what can be bothered to keep track of the details.
