I have been busy, my lovelies, but not so busy that I’ve forgotten about your desperate need to be educated and enlightened by the fruits of my hand.  This week has been enlightening for me, as well, as some things have been made clear to me that they aren’t exactly sharing in Silvermoon.  So much for that ‘promised land’ thing they’ve been spouting.  Prince whatshisname apparently messed up somewhere along the lines and isn’t quite the hero we’ve been led to believe.

Oh well, I’ll spare you my shattered rosey glasses view on Outland.  Instead, lets discuss our new friends, recently turned traitor again.  See, they turned traitor by joining the Scourge and getting all these nifty powers.  Then they turned traitor again by giving the Scourge the finger and coming back to us.  I’m sure they will be very trustworthy from here on…

Anyway.

I have a hypothesis.(That means “i c wut u did thar”)

I believe every rouge, loladin, fury warrior, and those enhancement shamans and mages that were always ticked off whenever a warlock beat them on the meters, all got together and rolled death knights.

In the spirit of continuing to differentiate between those people and the ones that have evolved beyond slime mold into a player that learns about the class and is willing to work in a group situation, we shall now be calling them DoucheKnights.

DoucheKnights can tank, no matter what tree the majority of their talent points are invested in. From experience, I can tell you that it doesn’t matter if the points are mostly in ice, blood, or undead - they can tank. Just as the druids’ feral tree is not ‘just’ cat, or ‘just’ bear, it depends on where the points are placed within that tree; so too are the trees of the new hero class.

The problem is how LONG they can tank.

DK’s are inherently squishier than warriors or bears or paladins. In their defense, they have a lot of abilities that heal themselves through damage. In a regular, non-spike fight, a DK could get by with no external healing. It is possible, as was called out many times in general chat across Hellfire Peninsula, that a group of 5 DKs could do fine through an instance. No healer needed, no healer wanted. Who wants someone in your party that can’t take hits when everyone else is focused on one target? Who wants to wait for mana after that last battle knocked everyone down to about 20% health? And no one wants to hear some blood elf priestess in the back going “Will you f-ers decide which one of you is going to f-ing tank?!”

“lawl were all tanks”

I don’t know much about the names of DK titles. Most of the DKs I worked with were not the communicating type. There was a lot of whining about needing a better weapon, but otherwise the conversations revolved around arguments about which tree was ‘good for tanking’ (see above). Otherwise, they were telling me not to worry about it when I told them to wait for mana. I imagine this allegory to my situation.

“Excuse me, sir, but your horse just stepped on my head.”
“Oh don’t worry about it, he is fine!”

Whatever the names of the spells, I could easily tell which groups held one or more DoucheKnights. They were the ones making liberal use of what I came to call “Yank and Spank”. This is some bizarre purple beam which shoots out, grabs the monster by the face, and yanks them through the air towards the knight for spankies. This is a wonderful spell to force a caster into melee range. This is a terrible spell when used by the knight who just woke up from a coma, standing beside me, and yanks a monster away from the group being beaten by the tank far ahead of us. Suddenly I have two tanks. Now another one does the same trick, and I have three tanks.

There are now three knights, spread out from each other, fighting one or two monsters. When called on it?

“I was helping CC that mob. I saw DK#1 taking damage. Geeze, it’s fine.”

Fine indeed. Rofl, good sir, rofl.

Another fine ability is the “I’m bored, lets make some friends” ability. It comes in the shape of a gargoyle. Every time this ability is used, some friendly gargoyle comes out of nowhere and proceeds to hover above us and shoot things. It is fairly epic, and I’m sure it is very fun for the knight who wields such power. Inevitably, however, things die. The gargoyle, lonely and looking for something else to play with, lazily wafts away on the breeze.

I have watched this thing go through walls, ceilings, and all-girl school dorms overseen by massive women with more testosterone than Grom Hellscream. These are things that would be impenetrable by mere mortals. Not only do these gargoyles easily slip through these barriers, but they find friends, then tell them where to find me and my party.

And then there is death. Always, death. In the form of nearly every monster in the dungeon, piled up on top of each other, and charging around the corner as though Jaina Proudmoore had just announced her debut strip tease right behind us. It is an ugly sight. I have seen it in my sleep…

Anyway.

DoucheKnights - all the people that cried when they weren’t top of the damage meter, and were tired of having to constantly wait for a tank, and were irritated by a pushy healer, now have all the tools available that allow them to completely ignore any of the things previously holding them back. If the tank is taking too long, bam, now DoucheKnight gets to tank! Healer is up to 30% mana, that should be enough, BAM, DoucheKnight is tanking. Oh no, you’re number 2 in the dps meter! BAM, bring in more mobs so your AOE racks up the points!

And then when BAM everyone is dead, all four DoucheKnights have to go do something else while the priestess runs her ghostly tush off to get back to the dungeon.

“rez plz”

/stab

Yes, well. At any rate. DeathKnights! Woo. At least some of you backstabbing, weak hearted, scourge-loving miscreants are useful for something. I’ve reached level 66 in the past week by being the one NON scourge-lover in the party. Questing is useless, because nothing out there survives long enough for me to get credit for the kill, because eight doucheknights just jumped on it. So all the dungeons got to see my pretty face, twisted in rage and impotent hate at the back of my party members. At least the guards in Orgrimmar have apples to throw. I should have joined the beer of the month club, just so I’d have a bottle every once in a while…

Alright alright, not all DeathKnights are DoucheKnights. Some made healing a joy, and it was a cinch even through places I’d never visited before. I’d get agro, and before I had a chance to fade, the thing would get yank-an-spanked. I still had to fade a lot, simply because of the nature of how squishy they are, and the amount of big heals I kept having to throw. Prayer of Healing always gets a workout when everyone else is a DK.

So. Quick recap.

Things I learned this week:

There are way too many doucheknights.
Healing in dungeons is fun again.
All three DK trees can be used for tanking.
DKs are squishy tanks.
I hate proximity bombs and the people that run over them after a fight.
Leveling up tailoring really really sucks when you’re starting from scratch.
Leveling up herbalism is very relaxing, which is a nice counter.
There are way too many doucheknights.

Your Questions!

Khol asks: I bring you an offering of burnt grain!
– I accept.

Weta wonders: Why do people still want 20 slot bags?
– Because they, and the larger ones, are still blasted expensive, and will be for months.  Big bags hold MORE STUFF and MORE STUFF is always better than less.

Tomo ponders the worth of the discipline tree.
– I have the stamina and mana to survive in a pug, even when things are nuts.  My favorite part is the completely worthless spell at the very end.  Didn’t a spell by this name use to do something useful?  Like stun or interrupt a target?  What the crap is this weak channeled orc poo spell doing in my discipline tree?

Axethrower is still curious about BRD.
– About 3 hours.  It’s a hellacious dungeon that, according to legend, was once going to have wings like the Monastery.  Then the dwarves got lazy and it’s one big, long, slogfest of dwarf killing.  Don’t wipe.

Phaedor asks: Why are some people so poor?
– Some people are poor and fat, and walking is good for them.  The rest of us require speed to go with our svelte appearance, and hot girls on fast rides are better than scrubs walking from The Great Lift to Gadgetzan.  If you feel bad, start a fund for ugly girls who walk too much.  Or something.  Sheesh, what kinds of questions were these?!

How does it go?

*Bweeeem* *Fwooosh*
Achievement Accomplished!

You have reached level 60!
Fast and Furious! (Epic mount)
Stalkers from the Blog!

I was accosted, this weekend. Not once, but TWICE, by people that recognized me from my writings. Adrexis, Nasmin, you crazy people. And no, if anyone else decides to harass me, you will not get a callout. These two just surprised me so much they have to get recognition for making me basically spaz out. It’s rare to throw me off my game that much, but this has never happened before, so I had no idea how to respond to the whispers.

Adrexis caught me in Undercity, trying to figure out what I was going to do with a bunch of quest items from - oh, about the time I started writing here. It’s pretty bad when you upgrade your gear and go “Oh, hi, I’m replacing this belt from Maraudon.” Palmface. So, yes, I was flustered. And then, out in Brill, Nasmin is poking at the mailbox when I run by, half asleep and being poked with people asking me to come heal for them in SM or something. I wasn’t even looking for a group! I was just checking the prices of the dead horses, and then it was crash - into the inn for sleeptimes. Nasmin was very polite, though, even if she DID think I was Vonya in disguise.

Hrmph. I would like to point out that there is no WAY that space goat could fit in these pants. …they look like they were sprayed on, anyway.

MOVING ON.

I did get the Big Girl Pony, finally. Purple Warhorse is MINE! I’m so happy. It’s … purple. And - yeah, I suppose describing it any further just lends itself to way too many innuendos. We’ll stick with ‘Epic Dead Horse’, then. Glee!! Put a serious dent in the guild coffer, though. I may have to do something about that, now that I’m actually in Outlands.

I was doing some quests for the orcs out there, who had me go and kill a bunch of orcs (confused much?), and I was very excited to see the upgrades for my pants and robe. I got the pants upgrade first, so I didn’t really see what they looked like. Doesn’t matter! I have a ROBE! And then I get a very nice, very svelte vest to wear. And then I realize what I was wearing under my robe will be quite visible to all the world.

I had heard legends of this effect, but I thought it was just alliance mages, or troll trollops that had this issue. No. One of the first pants upgrades you get, once you’re through the Dark Portal and are battling for your survival against the Burning Legion and the terrors they’ve created in Helfire Penninsula, are whore pants. Panties and thigh-high stockings.
REALLY!?

All I need is a blasted bikini and I could look like a paladin. I switched from shadow to deep discipline and I wear THIS!?

Unacceptable!

I did a quick check, found a decent upgrade could be found right next door in that castle with all the other nice orcs in it. I finally gathered up four compatriots from the lowest dregs, and off we went. Let’s just say that the shaman spent more time telling everyone else what to do than he did putting down totems. Since he was very adamant that the prot paladin was the tank, and the prot warrior should be helping him, and that the hunter should dps, and I needed to heal - I made sure that the two protection fellows got priority on heals. If he decided to pull agro most of the time, and then happened to die, well at least it wasn’t a wipe, because our tanks lived. Oddly, he kept popping back up after dying, so I can only assume he did that self-resurrection thing that shamans do right in the middle of a fight. Very odd tactics for someone who was meleeing. Without totems. Shamans are the ones that put down totems, right? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them used properly.

As it was, I got my pants, killed the Ramparts bosses and got another achievement (you can get those things from sneezing, apparently), and now have to keep an eye out for gems to make my pants super special.

In other news, I’m sure you’re all very excited to know that I’ve hired a troll rogue to do my dirty work back on Azeroth. He is an engineer, and has grand plans to someday build a motorcycle. I also use him to keep tabs on how the pugging situation is while I’m off on another planet. From what he says about his forays into Razorfen Krawl and Razorfen Downs, and even the SM Library, it’s not much different from a rogue perspective. Being able to hide while the rest of the group implodes, though, seems to have its perks. He giggles a lot when relating the stories to me. Maybe I’ll share some of his adventures, sometime. No, I have no idea what his real name is. He’s a rogue, they tend to not be very outgoing with stuff like that. But he goes by Thomas.

Yeah. Thomas the Troll.

I laughed, he didn’t. So I don’t know.

Yay dead horsey!

*cough* Sorry.

So you had questions. I guess I can answer a couple.  There weren’t any GREAT ones, but these will suffice.  It’s my first time requiring anything of you, so I suppose some hesitation should be expected.  The free ride is over, though.  I expect higher quality from people who have been absorbing my goodness for this long.

Weta asks: I need help killing a dwarf who is so inept that he wound up accidentally summoning an Elemental Lord that blew the snot out of his kingdom and has now enslaved his people.
–Rather than simply say something cynical like “Wait for him to try another brilliant plan, he’ll take himself out for you”, I suppose I could point you in some direction.  Wowwiki, really, may be your best bet.  It has all the details on what gear you can steal from the old munchkin’s battered body, and gives a few suggestions for tactics on how to get to him and how to make sure his body is sufficiently battered.  Wowhead and thottbot are there, too, but they’re more focused on making sure the old man is naked of all his loot, rather than how to get him to hold still long enough.  Weirdos.

Vendric wants to know: How come life is unfair and the fights are so easy/hard in the battlegrounds?
–Life is tough, you silly boomkin.  For one thing, you are a Prime Target.  Imagine being the guy out there that can transform into an Ogre.  YOU WILL BE SHOT AT.  I imagine if you remain ‘just another tauren’ (or something), then you can launch a few more volleys before anyone figures you out.  Starfire and Moonfire are good, too, because they don’t see where the pain’s coming from.  As for what’s being done to equalize the battlegroups?  Are you serious?  My people joined the Horde mostly because we were both desperate.  We allied with DEAD PEOPLE because we are so bad off.  There is no equalisation, we are Horde, we must overrun them with sheer numbers and stubborness and the elitist belief that only kids play Alliance.  Glory to the Sin’dorei!  …I may have lost track.  What was the question?

Weta says: Nevermind, I killed him without your help, now I want to know why I should be friendly with my own faction!
–Bah! *fistshake*

Axethrower asks: Hanners where aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrre yoooooooou?
–Uh, I think we’re done here.  BETTER QUESTIONS THIS TIME.  *hides from stalkers*

So this week was weird.Not zombie weird, or paladins nerfed to the ground weird, or even horseman disappearing RIGHT at 4am weird.

I mean weird as in, no one had a clue what to do kind of weird.

I was settling all comfortably into my role as emissary of doom from the cult of the shadow, pewpewing and face-melting as necessary in my attempt to maybe reach outlands properly. Then I thought, hey, it’d be kind of neat to go with a group into one of them thar dungeons again. I bet I’d be fine in BRD.

So I went to my trainer in Thunderbluff. Don’t ask me why I was in Thunderbluff. I think I slurred or something when talking to the flight master. It was a long, meandering flight, and I spent most of the time wondering why the stupid scorpio-cat-bat-thing was as drunk as someone with a year’s subscription to beer-in-your-mail. Which is not me.

Anyway, poof, there went all my spells, and I tapped into that magic looking-for-meatshields thing while I poked around at new healery type spells.

And I kept poking around, and kept watching people looking for tanks for this or that. All for places in outland. Or Wailing Caverns. Why those two extremes all the time? But only for tanks. One person was looking for heals, but he was also looking for tanks and three “good dps” for Kara. These days, I don’t even know what counts for good dps. Not dying? Dying in a spectacular manner? Finally I got tired of half-heartedly poking at my healing spells and started just picking talents willy nilly. I don’t think I know what half of these things do anymore, but anything that looked to increase my super-awesome priest healing abilities would be great.

And then the world ended.

When I logged back in, all that random point-clicking had come undone. Maybe I didn’t click hard enough? Anyway, I joined back up in the looking-for-meatshields and started scowling at my trainer again. Before clicking anything, I took a closer look at who was available to be my personal meatshield. I wasn’t picky about what dungeon we molested, so that made it both easy and difficult to find people.

“Healer looking for whatever” doesn’t encourage people to join your illustrious cause, it seems. Besides, I wasn’t technically a healer at the moment. I wasn’t technically anything, and my trainer was looking impatient. As impatient as someone can look when they have leather straps bolted in an X across their face. It can be done, trust me.

So, yeah. There was no one. I don’t mean there wasn’t anyone looking for a dungeon that I wanted to visit - like I said, I wasn’t picky. I mean, there wasn’t anyone. NO ONE. I did a quick scan using powerful magics of /who 54-58.

It was me and some druid in Tanaris.  And he logged off as I watched.

Picking out all those healing abilities seemed kind of silly at that point, but with all the changes that have come down the line, recently, I wasn’t really sure where to put my pewpew-facemelting points.

Maybe I’ll just wait for Northrend and something will happen to make people pop up around looking for healinators again. Yes, I’m still nervous about running around out there by myself after the whole zombie thing. I still can’t talk to the bankers in Undercity like I used to…

/shiver

ps: ASK ME KWESTCHUNS.  Maybe I will use your innane quandries to fuel my spite-filled anecdotes another time, while I wait for some meatshields to get big enough to be deserving of my leet heals.  Or … have me along for face melting.  I have no idea.

(but never actually sees any Scourge, or much of anything at all, except a lot of zombies with guild tags and the npc’s they’ve converted)

“Trick or treat, Innkeeper!”
“Braaaaaains…”
“…oh dear.”

/violence

Alright, I’ll just fly over to the Sepulcher to see if -
“Braaaaaains…”
“But how did-”

/violence

Screw this, I’m porting to Shattrath. All those super-high level players will -

/violence

I’ll just go find those undead that everyone keeps talking about invading outside the city, the ones that were not formally pug-fodder, and-

/violence

I’m going to the bank, in the middle of the city, far away from these dangerous doowhoppers that keep resisting all my spells, even before they’re full-on-zombies, and I’m going to work on my tailoring while all the kiddos are out playing hero.

“Hello, banker. I’d like to withdraw- ”
“Braaaaaaaaaains…”
“Well, no, cloth, preferably. Why can I not get to my bank?”
“Brrraaaaaains!”
“Oh bugger.”

/violence

My ultimate response?

/mariobros

You rotting meat sacks have an expiration date. I’m going to hide out in my Panic Room until you all decay.

Woo, mushroom!

Big happenings are coming down the line this week, and this little harpy is prepared, I tell you! I have my picnic blanket, I have a bottle of bubbly, and a spot picked out on one of the hillocks in Durotar with a perfect view of Orgrimmar. The fireworks are going to be magnificent, I can just feel it. I expect to see the sparkle of new spells and the stompy stomp stomp of dinosaurs, and more life in that place since - well, since it must have been before Outland was the new favorite hangout. So! Since I don’t have much time to waste with you people (must procure munchies for the festivities!), I have prepared … a list! Everyone loves lists. Shutup, you love lists.

Things Hanners is looking forward to by this weekend:

Going through a bunch of Scarlet fanatics in Strath - with a gorilla as a tank.

More bank space for cute outfits because my pets and mounts will be ‘spells’.

New spells! Zot.

Dinosaurs EVERYWHERE. Stompy stompy stompy.

Better threat management, maybe?

Druids with an out-of-combat rez, so that ferlol cat is not completely worthless.

New warrior abilities. I can’t WAIT to see some of those things in action.

Paladins with weird new ways of doing things - I dunno much about this, but just the idea of any new things for my favorite multi-monster tankers makes me so happyface I may have just respecced holy without need of a trainer. (As opposed to discipline.)

Death knights. Wait, are they coming this week?

Northrend - no, not this week?

MAMMOTHS! - not this week?

Okay, so I may wind up just sulking while dodging Rhinos, but it started out positive. Picnic time!

Sorry I’m late, but there was some argument about how this was - (hey this collar is a bit much, don’t you think?) - going to be handled.  Quane is with me to uh…ow! Assist with this one. Please ignore the leash, it’s nothing.

Alright, so it has been called to my attention that I may have acquired a bit of a reputation as coming off somewhat…harsh. Urk! Demanding. Gack! Intolerant. …Especially towards the lesser classes. *strangling sounds* Ouch!

I mean other classes.

In this vein, I would like to turn to a more positive note. There are so many times I’ve spoken about what NOT to do, and what I HATE for people to do, it’s about time that we focus on what you SHOULD do. Pugging rarely focuses on what you should do. After all, if you’re the dork telling everyone how to play their class, you’re as big a problem as anyone else in the group. Even if someone needs to be told, you don’t need to tell them. A pug is not the place for that!

But a guild? A guild is where everything needs to be set down before hand. And it can be set down before hand. Has to be, or some retarded hunter will-

Wait no, I’m sorry. Let me rephrase.

A guild gives you the wonderful opportunity to set down a series of guidelines by which everyone can work in harmony, and come together as a cohesive unit. Fluffy bunnies and happy puppies. It also means you can make rules before you have a group, and expect people to abide by them, and boot them if they don’t! None of this pansy stuff about “Well you didn’t know,” or “I guess we should have gone over this at the beginning of the instance” (but you know if you did, you’d be accused of telling people how to play, so you never do).

Nevermind that. Here, I’ll spell out my rules for a perfect guild.

1) Main assist: this is your happy friend who will be pointing at the bad thing you are to be mean to. All you have to do is look at them, and then look at what they’re looking at, and you will know which of the monsters said nasty things about your mom, so you can tell them “That language is inappropriate!”. With fire.

2) Your A Game: being in a guild means never having to hear someone say “Sorry, I just bought this character and am still learning HAW HAW HAW.” Everyone knows what they’re doing and how to do it best. Gems, potions, elixirs, oils, foods, ponytails - whatever it takes to be a Non Liability. No playing cards while killing Baron Rivendare, or shooting your bow with your feet when that old guy comes storming into the room screaming “School is in session!” or something. Time to show off, and be awesomesauce. I would feel utter glee in booting someone who decided to “Hey watch this!” and killed me. Glee.

Wait wait, gotta be positive.

a) Knowing the Fight :okay okay, more positive. I would be absolutely delighted to show you what to do, and how to deal with that OMGPANIC moment when you walk into the alley way and the gate comes down behind you and suddenly you’re swarmed with rats or bugs or whatever they are. But you don’t have time to listen to me ramble! I’m doing you a service by pointing you towards some very knowledgeable people who have written succinct and entertaining summaries of what to expect in your adventures. I am your friend! Happy thoughts! Read. Don’t die.

* Bosskillers World of Warcraft Bosses, Guides, Movie Reviews and Guild Kills

* WoWWiki - Your guide to the World of Warcraft

3)Arguments/Disagreements with how things are done: I would love to say DO NOT QUESTION ME, but I’ve been told to be nice. So, feel free to question me. After the fight. Or way way before. Alright, alright, you can question me during, but I’ll tell you to wait until after, or something. Or tell you to put it on the forums so everyone can have a say. Mostly it’s to get you to leave me alone, but think positive! It’s so everyone can see your genius! And they don’t die while trying to tell you to be quiet. Bonus!

4) The meaning of casual: I don’t WANT to meet Illidan. I have enough problems putting up with 4 other people at one time to be bothered with - urk! I mean, you know. I want to keep my friends intimate and close, so that means I have to be more choosey about who I allow into my inner circle. You understand. Too many people, and the relationships become weak and tenuous, and it becomes more obvious that I’m just using you to get a prettier dress - gahk!! Stop poking me! I’m being positive!

a)Your time?. I have better things to do than wait for people. I hate looking for a group, that’s why you make a guild, right? So you don’t have to hunt around for that last person, or wait for them to finish a quest, or something. A guild is a happy fun shiney place where people go “Hey, I want to smoosh some dragonkin in the top of Blackrock!” and everyone else goes “Yay, meet you at eight!” And they do. And dragonkin get smooshed. And everyone gets attuned to Blackwing Lair and then wonders how to not die against the big rampaging guy when the mages keep sheeping the wrong things and fireballing the ones chasing the tanks and -gahk! I mean, success comes to those that put the guild as a priority. What you do with the rest of your time is up to you. Just come ready.

5) Raid roster: back to the whole thing of not having uh…the proper personality for a huge group of friends. A tight group of people means there’s not going to be a whole lot of options for switching in new folk or replacing people that decide to go pet puppies instead of smoosh dragons. So, the previous rules get multiplied by a bajillion points of importance.

6) Raids: Can I PLEASE get out of BRD? Please? I mean, seriously. At this point, you’d think people would learn how to - urk!! STOP THAT. Ahem. I’d like to progress, and that means surrounding myself with people that also want to progress, and not just collect new outfits from the battlegrounds, or something. Focus focus focus! Think of the rainbows and sunshine we can make, if we all work together as a team. Yay!

And that would be my ideal guild. The end.

Now can you PLEASE get this thing off my neck, you cantankerous warlock?

THANK you.

Final rule.  Don’t be a twat.

I hate warlocks.

No really. Maybe I’m racist, or classist, or something. I just hate them.

Inevitably they’re stuffy and irritable, cranky and all around moody. They don’t have anything to offer a group except killing things faster, and even their pets are just kind of in the way. At least a rogue has practical abilities, and a hunter can do… stuff. I guess.

At least most hunters aren’t blatantly suicidal.

Alright alright, the caveat. Not ALL warlocks are useless suicidal emokids. The mistress of my own house is quite regal and intelligent and quite able to handle herself. But she’s moody too, so I guess there’s that.

But most of them are just terribad. We’re out there fighting fighting fighting, the rogue, mage, and warlock are arguing over the dps meter, and everything’s dead. Well before I sit down to drink, I’d like to pick up the stuff off the corpses. Y’know, it’s mine, I might as well. Then I sit down to drink, and the guy in a dress suddenly starts farting this green cloud that gets sucked back into him as mana. And his health is going down.

“heal plx”

I mean, seriously? You just did that to yourself! Bandage, you skuzzy booger. Make that half-dressed hoofed harlot heal you, she’s obviously bored enough to give herself spankies. I’d say you’re not giving her enough attention as it is. I don’t go and throw a bunch of heavy heals at the tank while he’s at full health, then turn to the mage and demand some water. She’s got other things to deal with. You! You should be using that rock candy stuff you make out of the souls of pigs and dwarves and things.

There! Problem solved. Lifetap, then healthstone! That way I can focus on keeping the rest of the group alive. The ones that are not over there crying about how no one understands their pain and slashing their wrists with ceremonial daggers or whatever.

“Nothing’s alright, nothing is fine!”

What? Look, if it’s that bad, I’m a priest. I know people that can y’know, fix you. You can be un-evilled! Enough with the sadface, and then crying when I don’t heal you through your own psychotic hellfire. Stealing agro from the tank AND incinerating your own flesh? You deserve to be cinders!

I wish my hair could be a warlock. Then it’d cut itself.

I guess I should ask you what class you specifically hate. And why. Or something. But I’m so depressed right now I can’t be bothered. /emosigh

Using my newfound power to communicate with the lesser faction, I have decided to expand my knowledge of this tanking class.  They soak up all that mana I so carefully hoard, only to squander it by having their face mashed in over and over.  Still, better them than me.  So, for your benefit, I managed to scour Azeroth for rumors of the mysterious Aensu.  It wasn’t easy.  This tall, purple creature has not been seen for quite some time.  As a warrior tank, that didn’t come as much of a surprise.  Count on me, though, to act as your tourguide through the wilderness of gnomes, humans, dorfs and spacegoatstalbuks to find this mysterious Kaldorei.

Who currently looks suspiciously like a spacego- draenei.  And a paladin.  But still pure tank.

Hannelore: Word has it that Aensu, warrior tank extraordinaire, has been in hiding for quite some time, now. Criminal background coming to haunt you? An unspeakable bounty on your head? Or a scorned lover just waiting for you to show your face? Or maybe you just got caught up in watching old episodes of Lost? Why hasn’t the world seen you, lately?

Aensu: Not hiding, just adapting to the needs of my comrades. Sure, it’s entirely possible to tank as a warrior with no CC, no salvation, and no mercy from the ravenous dps, but it’s far more efficient to do it as a paladin. You don’t earn Amani War Bears and 100+ badges a week for your raid by tiptoeing through your dungeons with a mage holding each hand.

H: So you’re still out there, just in a different costume. What are your fondest memories of tanking? Favorite dungeon or battleground?

A: Definitely 3-manning old world content with Vonya and Kwane, back when it was “hard” and our “more experienced” guildmates were wiping on the same content with a full group and raid gear. I have a soft spot for Blackrock Depths and all its fiery, dwarfy goodness.

H: That place is becoming famous, here, lately. Tell me, why did you take up tanking, when so many warriors avoid it like the plague and would rather rock the damage charts?

A: Bad pug experiences as both a healer and dps. I knew I could do better.

H: Well, do you ever feel pangs of guilt for not being born a gnome?

A: No, but I do sometimes feel pangs of regret for being born a night elf.

H: HAH! Of course. You have my sympathy, there. Speaking of which, what did it feel like to be constantly surrounded by ‘the prettiest races’ on Azeroth? At least until my people decided to join the fight again and take up opposition to your Alliance.

A: Not terribly dissimilar to being surrounded by the ugliest races on Azeroth. I’ll take being surrounded by stupid and pretty over being surrounded by stupid and ugly any day. Not to mention, have you ever smelled a group of Tauren, Orcs and Forsaken after a sweaty dungeon romp?

H: Ugh, yes. Moving on…Is there any power or ability you wish you had as a warrior tank? You can make something up, or borrow from someone else’s class or race.

A: The power to use my blacksmithing skills to repair my own equipment. I can forge exotic metals and the primal forces of nature itself into Stormherald, Crusher of Dreams and Provoker of Infinite Whining, but I have to pay some guy to put the edge back on VanCleef’s dinky sword? Come on!

H: What was the worst part about being a warrior tank?

A: Watching my performance plateau and even decline in some areas as my gear improved. You know you’ve arrived at Badscaling, USA when you have to start taking your pants off just to do your job. The worst part was I didn’t even get any tips!

H: Well, there’s a lot of speculation flying around about upcoming changes - anything you’re looking forward to, or dreading? I’d especially like to hear about your dread.

A: I’m very much looking forward to it, in fact. They’re attempting to do exactly what I wanted them to do: create parity among the tanking classes. I’m sure there’s plenty gnashing of teeth and rending of clothing among some old school warriors about hybrids taking their jobs. Personally, I’m not heavily invested in any particular class, just tanking in general. I’ll be a shield spec shaman tank if that’s what it takes to get the job done. Those who got their positions by virtue of being a protection spec warrior rather than actually being any good at tanking or knowing anything about it deserve their downfall.

H: Do you have dreams of being a tauren?

A: I once dreamed about a talking hamburger, does that count?

H: Uh. Yes.

Aye, mateys, it be Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Scope out yer local Big City folk fer a hint ‘o tha fun, then hoist the mainsel and trawl down to Booty Bay for some ale, wenchings, an piratey stuff. 

Yarrr!

(…I have to do this ALL day?!  What the blazes is ‘wenchings’?)

I have a few rules when I join up with a pug.  Sometimes I announce these rules at the outset, just to let them know what to expect from me.  After the third member confesses that they are just learning how to do what it is they do, for whatever reason, I make it known that after dying three times, I will evacuate.

 

Some may find that too harsh.  Others may wonder why I would let the pain last that long.

 

Either way, it’s good to have rules.  It helps you get over a rocky start that may otherwise have you fleeing at the first “lol”, and it keeps you from swearing off ever healing a shaman ever again due to that four hour Maraudon run (Landslide can go throw himself off a cliff next time, plx.)

 

I decided to see if anyone else had this mindset, going into a pug, so I asked around a bit.  I found a bear in Nighthaven, that druid hotspot of dreary purple and green, while I was escaping the terrors of the Timbermaw.  They never did forgive me for my first attempt to get through that tunnel of theirs.  (I have to be friendly with you to get through your tunnel?  You attacked me first, you thong-wearing savages!  Bear whale-tail earns you all the face-melting in the world.)

 

This bear-druid was apparently locked in some sort of Emerald Ennui, so I chose him as a prime target for the interview.  After all, I can spot pug-distress from a mile away. 

 

Hanners: So, tell me about your experience with pick up groups.

 

Bear: I haven’t done a lot.  Always wanted to tank, though, so I’ve done a couple leading people through dungeons on my way up.

 

Hanners: You would not consider yourself a serial pugger?

 

Bear: Um, no.  Haven’t had time to do dungeons, really.  I’ve been leveling up as fast as I can.  I hope to grow up to be a tree.

 

Hanners: Admirable (stupid druids). 

 

Bear: What?

 

Hanners: Nothing.  What have you learned from your limited experiences?

 

Bear: Tanking is fun!  I set the pace, I protect the healer, and if I’m doing my stuff right, then the dps can be as retarded as they want and can’t screw it up.

 

Hanners: I want your children.

 

Bear: Wait, what?

 

Hanners: Nothing, that’s very commendable.  Where did you learn about being a good tank?

 

Bear:  Reading websites, mostly.  This is my first time trying it, myself, but I’ve watched a lot of other people do it.  Some do it right, and I want to be like that, and some do it wrong, and it makes me cry.

 

Hanners: I’m writing an article about rules people have for their pug.  Do you have any rules?

 

Bear: Well I try to avoid stupid people…

 

Hanners: And how is that working for you?

 

Bear: I…don’t do a lot of pugs.

 

Hanners: Touché.  Any other stipulations you may place on a group?

 

Bear: I don’t like hoppy-rogues.

 

Hanners: Rouges.

 

Bear: What?

 

Hanners: Nothing.  No hopping, check.  What about your healers?

 

Bear: Oh, I hate grouping with healers that are ‘just learning’.  It almost always means that they get lazy when the first part of the dungeon is easy, so they’ll start throwing in a wand attack, or a dot or two, and then by the middle of the thing, they are barely using heal spells at all.

 

Hanners: I can imagine how it winds up at the end…

 

Bear: Yeah.  They start wondering why things are suddenly harder, how the rogue kept dying, and why I’m going a lot slower and healing myself between pulls.  Or they get agro and get upset about the dirtnap.

 

Hanners: We do tend to get cranky about those.

 

Bear: Well yeah, anybody does, but c’mon.  Two big heals right after you’ve mind-blasted a monster I’m not hitting?  Totally deserved it.

 

Hanners: Totally.  So tell me about a recent experience.  You look a bit upset.

 

Bear: I don’t know…

 

Hanners: You can tell us.

 

Bear: Wait, what?

 

Hanners: Me, you can tell me.  Was it pretty bad?

 

Bear: Well yeah.  We never even made it to the dungeon.  See, I was looking to get into an instance I hadn’t tried before.  So I was offering to tank, or damage, or heal – basically whatever any group needed.  It took a lot longer than I expected to find anyone, so I started asking locally.  When someone suddenly invited me to join them, I was obviously excited about it.  But then I look at my teammates, and they’re both flagged for pvp.

 

Hanners: Well, a lot of places have pvp objectives for the zone, these days.  Were they in a battleground?

 

Bear: No no, you’re right.  It just struck me as a bad sign.  And the leader of the group was a hunter.

 

Hanners: Eww…

 

Bear: And she wasn’t just flagged, but she had res sickness.

 

Hanners: Eww!

 

Bear: And she asked me what my spec was.

 

Hanners: Wait, weren’t you –

 

Bear: Yeah, I was offering to tank.  I don’t know of any tree-tanks, but maybe she thought I was going to boomkin it.  Anyway, I told her I was feral, and reminded her I could tank.  The shaman in the group said he was melee, but could off-heal.  The hunter laughed out loud and said she would be damage.

 

Hanners: As opposed to…?

 

Bear: No no, I asked that same thing.  She laughed again.

 

Hanners: Wait wait, did it sound like “HARR HARR.”

 

Bear: What?

 

Hanners: Nothing.  Carry on.

 

Bear: So that was a little scary, but I had quests to do, so I just kept plugging along.  Then I noticed we weren’t looking for a group, so I asked a few questions.  Are we still looking for more?  Are we going to the right dungeon?  Why aren’t we looking for a group?  Turns out, the hunter had never looked for a group before, and thought she was doing it right.  Laughed at me a few more times and joked on me for not noticing that she was doing it.  The shaman took leadership for a second, slipped us into the right channel, and handed leadership back to her.  She laughed again.

 

Hanners: I shall call her Giggles.

 

Bear: Wait, what?

 

Hanners: Nothing.  You say you never made it to the dungeon.  Why not?

 

Bear: Well, the next thing I hear, is that she can’t get into the dungeon because the door is locked.

 

Hanners: Where were you trying to go?

 

Bear: Hellfire Citadel Ramparts.

 

Hanners: Wait – there’s no door there, is there?

 

Bear: No.  She was trying to get into the Shattered Halls part.

 

Hanners: Without a full group?

 

Bear: Yeah.  I was in the marsh, and the shaman was in Honor Hold.

 

Hanners: Why was she –

 

Bear: *makes the ursine equivalent of a shrug*

 

Hanners: So that’s when you left?

 

Bear: Well, actually, I kinda was a smartass about it.  I wished them both well, and suggested they ask other people if they had any questions or confusions and wanted to learn how to play.

 

Hanners: Uh oh.

 

Bear: The hunter sent me a note asking what that was all about, but I didn’t have the heart to break it down for her.  I mean, I know how hunters are.  You don’t have to deal with other people your whole life – just you and nature and some freakish animal following you around.  Then, suddenly, you want to make friends and you have no idea what to do.  That’s fine, us druids can totally sympathize.  But then the shaman sent a note and I felt I owed an explanation.  Told him that I could get gear and experience faster off on my own doing quests, instead of doing the ghost-run of shame with someone who wasn’t used to other people being involved.

 

Hanners: Did he turn into Mr Champion?

 

Bear: Oh you bet he did.  Started telling me about how it’d be easy to show her how to teach her real quick, and that I shouldn’t think I was so better than other people.  I tried to explain, but he was already fired up.  Tried telling me to go back where I came from, and that she may have to learn some technicalities, but I had to learn ‘people skills’.  At that point, I remembered my guild tag and felt guilty for stirring up this guy’s ant pile, so I just told him the conversation was over.  He agreed…

 

Hanners: There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?

 

Bear: But he started in on me again a minute later, telling me that he’d passed on my comments to her, and that they both agreed I should just stay in my tree and try my hand at something other than adventuring.  Words like “elitist retard” were thrown at me, and that’s when my feelings were hurt and I told him he was being insulting.  I …I admit, I ignored him after that.

 

Hanners: I see that really bothered you.  I sense you felt you did the right thing, though?

 

Bear: Yeah.  I mean, can you imagine me leading some bouncy night elf hunter like that through Ramparts?

 

Hanners: Wait, what?

 

Bear: Oh well.  Thanks for talking to me about this.  You’re real nice for a blood elf.  Normally I’d shred you guys on sight, but I’ll think twice about it after this.

 

Hanners: …what?