Greetings and salutations, Ego readers. Since I’ve been persuaded to become a regular contributor (read: she has a surly gang of bikers at her command and is not afraid to use them for nefarious purposes), I’ve been informed by the warden that I should make an introductory post, or else.

I kid, I kid! But not really. Send help.

You’ve known me as EgoTank. Ego knows me as Aensu, and now so will you. I’ve also been called other things that start with ‘A’, and I usually answer to “hey you”.

I’ve been a gamer for over 20 years now, and for over 10 of those I’ve been a part of the MMOG “phenomenon”. Harken back to the halcyon days of Meridian 59 and The Realm Online. I was there, partaking of the beta tests, being amazed by the fact that there were sometimes over 100 other people playing at the same time!

Enter Ultima Online, the first (in my book) online game that could truely call itself massively multiplayer. I remember being the envy of my online friends when I was the only one to make it into the beta. It was a simpler time…there were no “raids”, or even a functional grouping system. You weren’t defined by your gear, since it all wore out eventually…a weapon and suit of armor made by a player served just as well as the magic bits you received from killing balrogs and dragons, and was much easier to replace.

I remember expanding my early mining operations by purchasing my first ship - fondly dubbed “The Filthy Ore” - and using it to find pristine mountainsides, untouched by the unwashed masses and relatively free of roving bands of PKers looking to steal my precious minerals. I remember setting my first house in a high traffic area, and single handedly running off one of said roving bands of PKers with my demon summoning grandmaster mage (one of the first on the server). I remember the many, many times I was caught off guard by some pricks with halberds, and my corpse was picked clean of any and all valuables. I remember infiltrating a particularly slow witted group of pricks with halberds that had terrorized the town of Yew and the nearby valley for weeks, aided by the fact that one of my characters shared a name with one of their friends from a different server, “accidentally” killing a few of them in sparring matches, and after I’d acquired a key to their headquarters, returning in the middle of the night to rob them of their ill gotten equipment and using it to help supply daily assaults on their houses and personnel, until we eventually drove them from the community permanently. I remember having a grandmaster everything, more armor and weapons and materials stockpiled than I could ever find use for, and generally being bored with the limited scope of the game as far as PvE was concerned.

Then I was accepted into the Everquest beta, and it was all downhill from there!

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Now that we’ve got more bloggers to shoulder the Egotistical load, I find myself writing entries before they’re due.

I know, I know, that’s crazy talk.

However, I wanted to note that it’s just not a healthy behavior to engage in. Sure, sure, it means you guys are probably going to get better quality posts, since I have time to edit them and am not frantically typing on Thursday mornings, trying to get something out in time.

But how on EARTH am I supposed to write these, some of them weeks in advance, and not share them?

I want so badly to hit “Publish” that it’s unreal.

How do the rest of you do it?! How do you resist the urge to share?

Especially when someone comments about macros, and you have a perfectly ready post on hunter macros waiting in the wings?

This whole ‘being prepared’ thing is a crock, I’m tellin’ ya.

Belated, I know. But better late than never, right?

Right.

Step by step, let’s go through the changes, and how they affect me personally, and the classes I play.

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(Warning. GIANT entry here. This is the process I went through before I even created my hunter. Call it OCD if you wish, I prefer to think of it as planning ahead. *winks*)

As I’ve mentioned, I love huntering almost as much as I love priesting. More, sometimes.My priest is fun because I contribute meaningfully to a group. After being squishy and helpless for so long, it feels unimaginably wonderful to be overpowered. To go out and feel nothing more than a vague irritation when a mob accosts me on my way, rather than the panic and frustration when my priest ventures out solo. To be an entire group all to myself - tank, healer, and dps - that, my friends, is true power. Relying on and assisting others is nice, but sometimes it’s also nice to be the one who can get things done.

Sure, I’ve got Khuuna, at level 70 and geared enough to be let into Kara (though not optimally pre-Kara geared, she’s pretty close). But where’s the fun in blogging about that, right?

So I started a baby hunter. For various reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I haven’t played horde in YEARS, I rolled on another server (Garona) as a dreadful hordie.

I had some options, as far as race was concerned. I could be troll, or orc, tauren, or blood elf.

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Okay, now that most of you ought to be swapped over to the new site, I can let you in on a little secret.

*leans in and makes a beckoning motion*

The Egotistical Priest blog is going to be getting some nice changes in the next two weeks or so.

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In Which Vonya Does a Good Deed, and is Punished For It.

Vonya’s vanilla-colored hair lashed around her pale face as the chill mountain wind spun wickedly around her, gleefully whipping her skirts into a frenzy. The draenei stood for a moment, surveying the area. It was rocky, and a bit barren. Far too desolate for her own taste. The nearest town was a goodly distance away, and even the seldom-traveled road was tucked out of sight. The grassy hummocks that dotted the mountainside were lush and green; there should be plenty of fodder for Esmerelda to graze on. And although she had not seen any of the actual beasts, there were split-hoofed footprints the size of her head pressed into some of the softer dirt, so her rose-scented nuisance should easily find companionship, should that be her desire.

This would be perfect.

Vonya patted Meena gratefully on the shoulder before turning to Esmerelda. Her frostsaber had been very patient with this whole business, carrying her through brush and unbroken territory for most of the day as she searched for the perfect place to release their rose-scented companion.

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If you can see this, you are on the correct site for continuing Egotistical Fun!

RSS feeds should be working for the site now!

Someone pointed out a problem with the RSS feeds. I’m working on getting the site (egotisticalpriest.com) working, but for now, if you use the link at the bottom of the page, it will work.

Or you can just copy/paste this : http://egotisticalpriest.com/?feed=rss2

Sorry for the inconvenience! I am definitely gonna go bust some heads. *cracks knuckles*

That’s right! Ego’s moving to a new home soon, with a brand new server and a brand new domain name.

Things aren’t settled in just yet, but I will definitely let everyone know when they are.

Until that time, no more Ego. Hopefully I’ll have everything straightened out before the end of the week.

Wish me luck!

Another Reluctant Mistress today, instead of a real post - some changes coming up for the blog, and I don’t want to spoil the surprise. =]

In Which Vonya Bathes

Vonya dripped.

It felt achingly good to be standing upon solid ground once more. Had it not been for the presence of the dwarf that had escorted her away from the ram pastures, she might have fallen to her knees and kissed the dry, dusty road. But that was a childish reaction, and she was, as ever, an emissary for her people. So she had stood and bade a formal farewell to the dwarf, beyond glad that her mud-laden skirts hid the weary trembling of her knees.

It was full dark by the time she’d whistled for Meena, and while she waited for the great cat’s arrival, she dripped. Great, fat squelching patties of mud that slapped against the dusty roadway, a sound she would forever relive in her nightmares.

In one hand, she held the worn, twisted end of a lead rope which led up to the sagging leather halter fastened securely around the white ram’s head. Esmerelda. A silly name for such an ungainly creature. And the truth of the dwarf’s insistence that she was a white animal remained to be seen; if anything, she was covered in even more filth than the draenei.

Vonya sighed. She was absolutely coated in mud, an almost obscene amount of which seemed to be collecting around her hooves, accompanied by, of all things, a giant goat. This has not been a good day. If anyone sees me like this, I shall simply die of mortification.

She glanced up the road again, and nearly cheered when she saw the great spotted frostsaber loping toward them. Meena. Thank the Light.

The great cat drew near, then came to a stop a few feet away, ears flickering and nostrils twitching. Vonya took a step forward and Meena took a step back.

“Oh, come now, Meena, this is just silly. I know I’m a bit dirty, but the sooner we get to an inn, the sooner I can be clean.”

Another sheaf of mud slid from her skirts and slapped wetly against the road. The cat took another step back.

Vonya threw up her arms, sending another spray of mud to either side. “Oh, you! Fine!”

Speculatively, Vonya turned to the ram, who immediately threw her head back and gave a half rear, bleating. Vonya’s brow furrowed. “Oh, a pox on both of you!”

This was never going to work. She could hardly arrive on foot in Thelsamar covered in mud, followed by a cat and a goat. She’d have to bathe in the Loch, crocolisks bedamned.

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