Nevertheless, I do appear to be the first to cross the finish line. Huh.
"But Ratshag," you sez. "Ain't she trying to eviscerate the snot outta you with those swords and daggers while dropping flaming meteorites on your thick skull? Not to mention being 50 feet tall?"
Icing on the cake, my friend. Icing on the cake.
Got together with my friends at a bar in Shattrath City last night and we compared notes on which particularly nasty fuhggers we'd been requested to take out. Turned out there was a lot of overlap, and the rewards for doing the jobs were pretty tempting, so we said to ourselves, "Selves, lets do some teamwork and do the jobs quick and get paid!" Damn straight.
There was five of us all together - Tarsius the cranky Tauren, Zinzi who gives good resurrection, Throttle, looking sharp after a recent trip to the taxidermist, yours truly, and new-kid-on-the-block Aelion, the first Blood Elf to make it to the guild's A-Team. Plus Aelion's big kitty, named Fluffy or Snuggles or Lovies or something like that. I can't be bothered to keep track of all the details.
So we saddled up and headed out to do some serious smiting and gouging and slamming and biting. And when the dust settled we had done for the following sorry-assed buggers:
Demos, Overseer of Hate
Xircos, Overseer of Fear
Durn the Hungerer
Dimensius the All-Devouring
Nexus-King Salhadaar
Socrether, Who Did Not Get an Impressive Title But Was Still a Tough Whuggerfumper
I picked up somme 200 gold pieces for the bounties, and there was still
time to go back to Shattrath and provide some tender comfort to a belf
chickie who's boyfriend had been assigned to Mana Forge Ultris and
ain't been heard from since. A most successful evening.
Crystalis, the lovable warlock, has gone and set up a list of eleven things ya can do to be as lovable as her. Now, who doesn't love a gnome? I mean, what other race can you drop kick half as far, counting bounces and rolls? I always figured it was better to be feared than loved, but what the hey? Let's check out her list.
1. Be a gnome. Well, blew that one.
2. Get a lovable pet. Yup, got that one covered.
3. Learn Magic. Yeah, I know some magic tricks. Pull my finger! No, not that kind? Bugger.
4. Be a girl. Hang on, lemme check something here ... hmmm ... nope. Not a girl.
5. Perfect your tee-hee. Huh-huh-heh-huh. Close enough in my book.
6. Puppy Dog Eyes. Ya mean, on your face or, like, in the stew pot? Maybe I should go see if they got any at the auction house.
7. Contract a disease. Last time I was in Booty Bay I woke up with nothing but my hat and a case of the clap. So I figure somebody loved me that night. Double credit on this one.
8. Paint your nose red and wear big floppy shoes. Something else to look for at the auction house...
9. Quit complaining. Or, as the illustrious Satoshi-san would say, "No complain! Just do!" I got a problem, I just get out the axe. Guess that makes loveable.
10. Alcoholism. Piece o' cake.
11. Pay people. Fuhg that noise. I gotta save up for my elite mount.
So how'm I doin', lovability-wise? I count 6 out of eleven. Means I'm half as loveable as Ms. Crystalis, but since I can reach high-up stuff like doorknobs I figure we're about even. I can live with that.
"Ratshag, you need to keep focused on your goals and priorities," my old man used to tell me. Actually, what he said was "Get yer head outta yer ass!" and then he'd hit me with the flat o' his axe, but I knew what he meant.
So, what are my goals and priorites right now?
Number the one: Get enough gold to pay for the training for a super high-speed flying wyvern, and to buy said beastie. Gonna take a lot of gold - probably more than I've spent on everything in me whole life put together. Running short on people willing to pay me to solve their problems - there just ain't as much chaos in Outland as there was a few months ago. Them's what is still willing to pay pretty much have problems that are too dang big for one orc to tackle on his own, and finding a bunch of hearty lads to go into the Deep Dank Dungeon of Doom with me takes time.
So to make money now I've been mining for adamantite ore, which you can find pretty easy in caves in Nagrand and Netherstorm. Stuff sells real well the de auction house in Org. The Ogres and fuhggers living in these caves don't object to you taking their natural resources too much. Another good money maker is to take motes of mana off of the Mageslayers and other ghostie things in Wizard's Row. I hear they can do nasty stuff to finger-wigglin' clothies and even hunters, but they go down before the axe just fine.
Anyhow, I'm about 2/3 of the way to my goal. Gotta keep at it, or as dad would say "shuddup and work *slam*!"
Number the two: Get in tighter with the space mummies. I've already got a good rep with them, good enough that they let me buy one of their Consortium Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster Hand Cannons. This is good, but if I get even higher in their esteem they'll sell me a Sneaky Bastard Dagger as well. That would be most useful to use in my off-hand while on murdering rampages.
How do I get there? Kill ogres in Nagrand and loot the bodies. Kill evil space mummies in Netherstorm and loot the bodies. Bust dangerous prisoners out of space mummy prison, kill them, and loot the bodies. Sounds straightforward.
Number the three: Get in tighter with the Scrybabies in Shattrath City. Again, I've already got good rep with them, but if I can take it to the next level they'll sell me a nifty shoulder enchant, some more blacksmithing plans, and another wicked dagger.
How do I get there? Kill lots and lots of blood elves in Shadowmoon Valley and Netherstorm and take their rings and books. Or, go to the auction house and buy the rings and books from buggers what already done killed lots and lots of blood elves. Scrybabies ain't particular.
Number the four: Get friendly with those crazy-ass ogres way up in the Blades Edge Mountains. They want me to tune harmonic crystals, play rodeo with nether rays, and drop bombs on demon cannons, but in return for this silliness they'll sell me a righteous shield and some tough-guy boots. That'll be worth it, even if there ain't no spoon.
So, that's me goals and priorites at the moment. There's other stuff I
want, like me own personal dragon to ride, and some blacksmithing plans
from the treehuggers, and one of those raptors like the trolls ride,
but that can wait 'til later.
Man, I tell you they love their disguises in Outland. Everybody thinks they're a master costume maker, and they keep puttin' their work on me so I can go infiltrate the enemy base. Most of the time it'd just be quicker to just knock down the door and slaughter every last fuhggerwhumper in the room, but that ain't how they want it. So I got to put on this disguise and that disguise and I go along with it. Somebody asks me to dress up like Little Bo Peep, though, and I'm outta there.
You already saw the picture of me dressed like a human for when we went back in time. Here's some pics of other outfits I've had to put on:
Some more costumes I didn't get pictures of: an Orc warlock in Terrokar Forest (looked pretty much like myself in a red bedsheet) and as a Blood Elf to screw up relations with some giants in Shadowmoon Valley (I got to keep my own clothes for that - I just got smaller).
"Diary of an Upwardly Mobile Orc" was a good name back when I was a scrappy little orcling working to boostrap my way up to the level of my elder guildmates. But I done that now. I have 70 seasons under my belt, respectable gear, and I've hammered the bad guys* from Durotar to Netherstorm. I have mobiled up, and so I figured it was time for a change.
*bad guys = those who do not pay me
Anyhow, this book totally creamed my twinkie. This is my favorite passage:
"Last of all Hurin stood alone. Then he cast aside his shield, and seized the axe of an orc-captain and swing it two-handed; and it is sung that the axe smoked in the black blood of the troll-guard of Gothmog until it withered, and each time he slew Hurin cried aloud: 'Aure entuluva! Day shall come again!' Seventy times he uttered that cry; but they took him at last alive, by the order of Morgoth. Therefore the Orcs grappled Hurin with their hands, which clung to him still, though he hewed off their arms; and ever their numbers were renewed, till he fell buried beneath them."
Say what you will about pasty-skinned squishy humans, that fuhgger knew how to swing an axe.
The Lady in Red.
She's grown up a bit. Filled out in all the right places. But I recognized her instantly. There was no time for shallow, meaningless small talk. No time for pints of Dwarven Stout in the pub. I had work to do at the far end of the continent, and there was only time for our eyes to meet for an instant. But in that instant our souls touched, and I knew -
She still wanted me. She wanted me bad.
