It’s been nearly a year, can you believe it? July 28, 2008, Hannelore made her debut post full of spite and almost-repressed hatred of all things Vonya. She tried, at first, to avoid just telling a lot of stories about bad pugs - even had a whole post devoted to how she would talk about good pugs and how to do it right. And then everything went wrong and she took up a few bad habits, and now she’s some mana crystal chomping addict with a thing for pain. Still, it’s been a success.

Hannelore made it to outland, albeit months after everyone else left. She then made it into Northrend, healing all the way. She’s faced off against douche knights, huntards, a rogue dressed as a huntard, and even the zombie apocalypse. I’d be hard-pressed to tell you which one was worse. All of them were entertaining.

And that is what meta achievements are all about. Various sundry tasks, when taken in conglomerate, make a whole that is greater than just the sum. Not all of the stories have been experienced just through the eyes of the blood elf priestess, Hannelore. A lot of the experiences were taken from the perspective of a night elf druid, or a troll rogue, or a human warlock. The most difficult part of the meta was the fact that the stories were all told from a perspective nearly opposite to that belonging to the author. I’m glad to have entertained and maybe educated from behind the mask, but I have to admit: I’m a little horrified at the number of people that agree with some of the things Hannelore has said! It’s certainly been educational for me, that’s for sure.

This may sound like some sort of a farewell post, and perhaps that is what it will turn into. Things are changing across the blogosphere, reflecting a change in the game itself and the age and maturity level of its players. Over the last five-plus years, the audience has changed dramatically. And while long-time players have themselves changed, they’ve also witnessed an influx of newer players who have yet to go through those changes; whether as players of video games and MMOs in particular, or as human beings with all the life experiences that happen over the course of five years.

As Hannelore continues her adventures, she’ll run into the same people over and over again, under different names and played by different puppeteers. There will be the hunter that doesn’t know anything except volley, the death knight who thinks “yank-and-spank” is a valid form of CC when the tank is in trouble, and the rogue that is stealthed in the corner and afk.

And whether I have the opportunity to write about those adventures or not, there will also always be an egotistical priest.

Even the approach to Utgarde Keep was treacherous.  While Hannelore caught her breath behind a tree, she heard the hunter of the group cry out from across a chasm that he’d found an easier route down.  She rolled her eyes and ducked out from cover to cast a rather violent spell at the warrior.  Though healing in nature, the force of the penance rocked the tauren three times, threatening to upset his balance as he faced off against three of the huge man-like vrykul.  He shot her a glower, but his wounds were sealing up over the oversize snout, so Hannelore blew him a kiss and faded into transparency.  The battle gradually fell quiet with the blood knight shoving a blade through the last twitching corpse.

“Where’s- ?” began the rogue, his rasping voice coming from the shadows.  Hannelore, the priestess, was getting the impression that the hunched Forsaken wasn’t even attempting to hide at the moment - it had become purely habit.  His question was interrupted by a scream and the sound of metal on armor deep in the chasm.  The troll had discovered his shortcut to the dungeon was also a direct route to the Alliance base camp.  “Nevermind.”

“We’ll find another,” growled the warrior and he shoved his axe back into position under the shield on his back.  “Let’s get a move on.  I don’t want to be in this place after sundown.”

“A connection lost with the earth mother or something?” asked the blood elf knight, sneering at the much larger bull-man.  The other two fell in line behind them.

The tauren rolled his shoulders under the heavy plate armor and stole a glance at the afternoon sun.  “I don’t like facing the undead in the dark.”

Hannelore looked out of the corner of her eyes at the rogue beside her.  Whether he noticed the look or not, she couldn’t tell.  He pulled absently at a loose buckle on the leather armor over his sunken torso.  Very quietly, as though he were talking to himself, the dead man murmured, “Neither do I.”

—

The furnace was incredible.  Even from this far away, the magnificent heat of the apocalyptic flames felt like they were cooking her slender arms.  The orc, a shaman that had joined them at the entrance of the dungeon, gave her a querying look as Hannelore put a cloak over her shoulders.  The extra heat of one more garment was nothing compared to the feel of that direct radiating blaze on bare skin.  She lifted her chin haughtily at the broad-shouldered greenskin and dared him to voice his curiosity.  He shrugged it off and turned back to the front where the warrior and paladin were muttering strategy.  The rogue was nowhere to be seen.

“If we pull them away from each other, they’ll have less support-” began the blood elf.

“And so will we,” replied the tauren.  “And your girlfriend will have two people to focus her finger-wiggling on instead of just one.”

“She’s not my-”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Hannelore found herself saying.  Irritated at having been brought into the squabble, she pursed her lips and stood straighter.  Gleaming green eyes sparked with hate as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked to the side.  Suddenly the wall and the rack of weapons were very interesting.  Somewhere, Hannelore thought she heard someone saying something, but it was too quiet for her to make out the words.

“Right, well,” continued the bull.  “We gather them up, I’ll crack some heads, you poke them when they’re focused on me, and we’ll move on.  This place is evil and the sun hasn’t stopped moving just because we have.”

The paladin rolled his eyes, then shoved his helmet back onto his head and hefted his sword.  “I still say there’s too many, but it’s your head.  I can take care of myself.”

They glared at each other and then crouched into the ready position as a patrol of vrykul weaponsmiths came around the corner.  Their gutteral words suddenly became intelligible when they saw the trespassers. 

“Now you die!” shouted one and lunged at the tauren warrior.  The other came in close behind, and both realized they were in for quite the fight when a heavy hoof stomped the stone floor and rocked dust from the ceiling.  Even dazed from the blow, they charged on and found themselves facing not two, but four.  One managed a cry to their fellows back at the forges.

Hannelore, enveloping the paladin in a shield before one of the huge hammers came down at him, saw how badly things could turn in an instant.  One of the bearded men looked up from their forge and squinted into the dark hallway from where the shout had come.  He stood up, glanced at his fellows, and took a step forward.  He then sat down and set his chin to his chest.  The others nearby laughed, commented in their rough tongue, and returned to banging steel to anvil.  From the shadows, a slender figure glided across the wall and joined the melee against the vrykul.  The priestess smiled a tight-lipped smile and the rogue glowed briefly under a silent blessing.  The battle raged on without interruption until the five stood over the two corpses and quickly distributed the meager coins found on them.  It would be difficult, but the first step had been made into Utgarde Keep.  It didn’t help that she kept thinking that someone was saying something to her, just out of earshot.

—

Hannelore froze in place, there on the dais of Utgarde Keep.  Hundreds of feet below, there was the constant sound of rushing water crashing against the craggy cliffs of the Howling Fjord.  All around, the cries of the protodrakes and their riders filled the air, blending together to create the illusion of some even more fantastical creature of hate and violence.  The sounds of battle still rang in her sensitive ears, from the clash of weapons on armor to the haughty shouts of the now-dead vrykul, Ingvar.  Nevertheless, Hannelore could swear she had just heard someone whisper her name.  It had been the most malevolent, twisted sound she had ever heard.

“I could use a plaything like you, blood elf,” it continued, haunting her mind with its echoes before the sound ever came.  “You are far from ready, yet.  The potential is within you for great things.  Terrible things.  You have caught my attention with your constant interferances with my works.”  The priestess tried to control a shiver, unsure why she felt such pride at those words.  “Perhaps you will prove yourself worthy to me in time.  I will set you on the path to join me, and you will come to me of your own volition.”  There was frost forming on her upper lip; she could feel it, and could hear the crystals crackling as the moisture froze in the suddenly arctic air.  “Or you will fall, and become a mindless minion to swell my ranks.  I look forward to seeing you again, Hannelore…”

She spun in place, sending the skirts of her robes swirling about her ankles.  She licked her lips, found the frost gone, and prepared a spell.  The gleam of magical energies faded and fell from her fingers as the priestess realized she was alone on the dais with a quickly rotting corpse that still lay bleeding and broken against a column.  She glanced around, faintly glowing emerald eyes searching the lengthening shadows for a sign of the Lich King, Arthas.  It was he that destroyed her city, turned its population into a broken people, and tainted their very lives with his foulness.  He wasn’t there with her, though.  Hannelore’s legs buckled and she dropped to her knees, confused at the tears running down her cheeks.  That voice had been pure evil, but she found herself desperate to hear it declare her worthy…

More hard-hitting direct and analytical reviews of heroic versus family-friendly raiding will have to wait until next week. 

Today: BUNNY EARS.

I would love to tell you about the fun and frollicky time I have had with Noblegarden so far. The brightly colored eggs, the silly rabbits, the jovial ears that suddenly have every level five mage in the area swoop down on me like I was covered in chocolate…

Uh.

But I cannot tell you about these things. I know nothing about them, and have only heard legends of their happenings. Because, in case you did not know, I am a blood elf. Our nobles are the magisters and mage-priests of the broken sunwell. There shall be NO fun near our walls. However, to keep from looking like oppressive zealots that seek only power and glory and the life-sustaining mana-tap, we still allow the peons and little common-folk to ‘hunt for eggs’. But because our people are accustomed to hardships, allow me to explain to you how we have changed this pretty little adventure into something more comfortable and familiar to the Sin’dorei.

First, we have commanded that whenever an egg is discovered, the finder must stop there. You cannot move. Hold your ground and protect it with the tenacity we have instilled in our soldiers to keep our city safe from the unending scourge. Spit expletives at any other seeker that comes near, or you will be shamed for the rest of the week by the fact that THEY TOOK YOUR EGG. Each person is to find their own spot, their own eggs, and when we teleport more eggs into the area, each person will quickly gather their allotted prizes into whatever receptacle is available. I hear some commoners even shove them into their mouth. Wonderful.

Those seen running around will be called out for ‘ninjaing my eggs’ from those who have properly protected their placements. Shouts should ring out across the area for any that come late to the party and are unaware of the magisters’ law. “Find a spot and camp it, everyone gets more eggs!”

As this may seem to be too easy, we have included instructions and the materials with which to turn commoners into rabbits. These small, brightly colored mammals shall be precisely the same size as eggs. This added level of difficulty proves that the Sin’dorei can best any difficulty, and will inflict challenges on ourselves simply to make it more interesting. This is not a game, this is a test of our commoners’ will and abilities, as the sword is hammered in the fire! Those little people who are in the guise of rabbits are challenged to avoid the grabbyhands of those chocolate-blinded crazies looking for chocolate, and the crazies get to be constantly confused why the eggs they shove into their baskets are soft, furry, and squeak “OMYGODLETMEOUTDON’TEATMEEEEEEE” at them.

Reports are already coming in that there have been some casualties, but that’s to be expected. Better to cull them early than to have them someday wind up in a pick up group with me where I have to do it myself.

Cries ring out across the wall dividing the halves of my great city. “Where are the #%*(@ pants?!” “Selling the dress for rabbit ears!” “OMG u just ninjas my egz!” And “This egg is furry and squeaky.”

“DON’T EAT IT!!”

I like to listen for the scream.

I think that dead horse deserves a little more attention. Since the Insiders and Vonya both attacked it from the same angle, allow me to demonstrate how to beat the undead stuffing out of a horse from this side.

I am, of course, talking about the side of the horse where 25 people get together and start flailing around with sticks.

The arguments from both sides have been tossed back and forth a bit, but they seem to sort of equal each other out. For the most part, going just from the commentary I have heard from the 10mans and the 25mans supporters, my outside opinion would be that the two situations wind up evening out. To this end, one would think that the gear should be exactly the same! You have an option for people to beat up a monster with 9 of their friends, or they can go in with 24 of their friends and get the feel of an epic battle.

Here, let me line up the arguments that I’ve heard.  It’s in color, so you have to pay attention.

Bosses are Tougher - so the epic raids deserve better loot.
You have more people - well okay, so more hit points on a boss doesn’t mean anything.

Bosses have more abilities - so the epic raids deserve better rewards.
You can stack classes and their inherent auras - you have every blessing available from paladins, plus three druids mean you have the tree, moonkin, and leader of the pack buffs, etc.

Bosses are more likely to throw out more debuffs - so the epic raids are working harder.
You have 25 people - unless everyone is a warrior, rogue, and hunter, someone has the ability to remove at least some of the debuffs; and more likely you have at least one or two people that can be constantly cleaning off the raid.

Bosses will sometimes force the raid to split - you have to divide your attentions and move people away from the main herd.
These bosses do not change their behavior between 10 and 25 man, meaning the split is still there but with fewer people.

There is an understood percentage of stupid people in every group - it’s harder to reduce that percentage to zero if you have 25 people.
Well alright, that’s true.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. Ultimately, the Blues have agreed with me, and they have foreseen my future plight. I can see it now, and it fills me with a sense of pride and loathing that I will inevitably be drawn to an epic raid on some fancy-pants night elf lord who has too much time on his hands and too much treasure in his hoard. I think I just made up a song.

When it comes down to it, from what I have seen specifically from the Blue Voices, they realize that almost every argument balances out towards the equalization of 10 and 25 man raiding. At the end, the one thing that they point out is making the epic raids more difficult is the people involved. They have obviously been reading my material and understand statistics and mob mentality. Path of least resistance, people! If you can get away with flailing around in fire, or daydreaming about a very pretty roommate (I hate you, Braids) while wanding away at something, then a great segment of the population WILL. In a group of ten, that person will be eviscerated by the nearest druid. In a group of twenty five? I don’t really think anyone will notice until someone pulls up the combat charts and goes “Hey waaaaaiiit… Hannelore didn’t cast a single heal!”

Then I will say “Well my shields don’t count as heals, and I was probably too far away from you for me to show up on your meters anyway.”

That’s still a legitimate excuse, right?

Let’s give an example of a common discussion heard in a 10-man group.

“where’s bob?”
“couldn’t make it”
“alright well we can do this”
“hey guys my connection’s failing”
“dang”
“that’s cool, we’ll catch you next week”
“right on, good luck”
“alright, feast here”
“ha ha the tank is a wolvar”
“and the healer is an iron dwarf”
“iron dwarf, wolvar, furbolg…”
“I’d say we’re ready”
“go go go”
“pull faster!”

And they proceed to 8-man Naxxramas and get The Undying. What the hell?

Now the 25-man epic raid.

“afk a sec”
“ok pull!”
“omg guys get it off get it off”
“don’t run at the healers!”
“what’s he doing!?”
“that thing cleaves!”
“scatter!”
“the tank’s not getting heals!”
“i can’t reach him from here!”
“c’mon guys the thing’s killing me!”
“get away from us!”
“i think im the bomb”
“what?!”
“healer down”
“healer down”
“tank down”
“off tank picking it- off tank down”
“okay i’m back what happened?”
THAT is why the epic raids deserve the better loot. Not because the event is harder, but because you’re more likely to be sabotaged from within.

Case closed, I win.

I swear, when I find out who is writing the headings to these things…

So I set out on an epic quest to discover the makeup of space goat’s pack of hoodlums.  I even asked nicely.  Then I spied on them.  I mean, the whole cross-faction communication thing is hard enough, but when they’re on a different server?  That’s tough.

Remember.  Blood elves.  Portals.  We know things.

However, I am here to share with you what I was able to discover about Vanguard.  So let’s see…where’s my notes.  Ah.

Noq is a paladin.  Noq tanks things.  See Noq tank.  Noq apparently graduated top of her class from Stormwind Academy and baffled her trainers with an attitude indicating she didn’t care.  She skipped graduation ceremonies to solo Onyxia.  She has since solo’d Shattered Halls, and the dragon-riding achievement thingie from the Occulus.  I don’t know.  Someone mentioned it, I have no idea what that even means.  Maybe Noq is one of those dragons dressed up as a mortal?  It would explain so much.

Rhollo is a foreigner.  For some reason, this night elf still hasn’t adapted to the rest of the alliance culture.  There was some mention of tuna stew?  I don’t know.  Apparently this druid is allergic to microwaves, too.

Another one that’s a little out of place is Zubei, a space goat shaman that just recently woke up.  Remember, they crashed hard.  He’s still trying to find his place among the Alliance, and is dealing with fighting a war that was never his own with these natives who barely know what they’re up against.  I imagine the conversation was something like “Hey, glad you could join us.  We took care of that Illidan fellow, and now we’re fighting dead things.  Join in!”  From the look of things, he’s wasted no time in hopping into the fray. 

Kafive, having worked up through the ranks in Vanguard, is assisting Zubei become acclimated to the new world and the bizzare battles they’ve been swept into.  As another draenei shaman, Kafive has some insight that’s been rather helpful to the new arrival.  There seems to be some competition between the two, though, and the friendly totem-tests make them a collective force to be reckoned with.  “K5″ has recently switched to a more Elemental style of combat, and now Noq is ducking lightning bolts.

Regard is a priestess from the Stormwind Academies, first in her family to get a higher education.  While she enjoyed channeling the light and joining adventuring bands through tough situations, she eventually came to the point of being a teacher to up-and-coming soldiers of battle.  Amazingly (haha), she slowly became jaded by having to watch them so often charge forward, stumble into fire, and then flail around.  There is some rumor about her living in the stockades, a torrid love affair with someone named Bazil, and she came out of the situation as a devoted disciple of the Shadow.   Escaping that scandalous background, she joined Vanguard in the hopes of seeing new glory and fame.  Now she melts faces.

Aste is a warrior.  To be honest, Aste is a strange warrior.  Most I meet are so busy bashing things in the face and running around yelling at things, I sort of just see them as a psychotic meat shield.  Aste has…um.  Style.  A little obsessive compulsive, maybe, but I have a hard time faulting someone for wanting to look good while beating the ever-loving life-goo out of Sartharion and his minions.  This disorder also extends to some sort of need to find out more about enigmatic weaponry.

Carahil is another paladin.  A newer addition to the group, Carahil apparently made a name for herself by crashing through expectations and managing to meet Vanguard’s ridiculous standards for its fighters.  Still, I wasn’t able to find out a lot about her, but apparently she likes the shinies.  If Noq is secretly a dragon, I hear Carahil may secretly be part cat.  I don’t know how that works, and I’m not sure I want to hear theories, but I am very eager to see what happens if you shine a little red light at her feet and zip it across the floor in the middle of a battle.

Shandrell is a raven-haired mage from Stormwind.  The ONLY mage to have the tenacity to stick with Vanguard’s rigorous demands.  Apparently the woman has some long history with the group, and bowed out for a while at one point.  Once back in the fold, “Shandy” wasted no time in frostbolting anything that looked funny at Noq.  There may be something there but, uh.  Being a mage, her portals are better than mine.  And she seems to like her privacy - I’ll get back to you on this one.

Palit is a tree-druid-thing.  With aspirations of growing up to be an Ancient of Lore, Palit seems to be one of those stereotypical hippie druids that live for nothing more than to keep his band of adventurers alive and well while they keep his very flammable bark out of Sartharion’s reach.  Palit is also infamous for making ridiculous and groan-inducing puns and innuendos, usually involving trees, wood, bark, roots, branches etc.  His invitation to the guild dance party next weekend is tennuous at best.

Vonya is a space goat trollop and I hate her.  She’s been an ambassador to just about every culture that the draenei have come into contact with, but you knew that.  What you might not know is that in her past, she [Entry redacted - ed.]

And so far, that is what I know of the members of Vanguard.

That, and they are apparently “F-ING UNDYING BITCHES.”

But that’s just a rumor.

Week two of my rehab program and I think I’m doing mana.

I mean, I’m doing fine.  I meant fine.

I actually managed to find a few decent folks for a run through crystals.  Time.  Through time.  Caverns of Time.  With the dragons and - you know what I mean.  We got down to that hole in the ground, and it turns out that half of the group never rescued Thrall from the last time (ha ha!) so we couldn’t go rescue mana.  Medhveed.  Damveed.  That wizard.

Now, I’ve actually rescued Thrall a few times.  I just always wound up with a group that stalled out when trying to assist his girlfriend there at the end.  So it never took, you understand.  There were some hangups, still.  I think the mage was …uh.   New.   If you know what I mean.   Nevertheless, we made it through to the end, and we all collected our crystals.  I didn’t need anything, because I’ve already managed to get through a few of the dungeon crawls in - wait, I said crystals.   Haha, that is so silly.  I meant loot.  Ho ho ho ho.  I’ve scaled down the caverns of Azjol Nerub, so I’ve got some neat stuff.

So I didn’t need anything, and we were off to go help out in the swamp!

When I woke up, thirty minutes later, I was laying face down in the sand in front of the entry-way to the Black Morass, and my group was nowhere to be seen.  There was a bit of paper stuck to the top of my head.  “Waited for you to get up.  Couldn’t do it without a healer.  Had to go.  Bye.”

That was a little embarrassing, but they could have said something.  That was entirely rude to go on without me while I was unconscious and vulnerable and something.  It was entirely their fault.  They could have cast…um…‘remove stupor’ or something.  ‘Dispel withdrawals“? Don’t druids have that?  I can’t mana.  I mean, remember.

So yeah. Great week. I don’t remember my other runs, so you’ll just have to mana your own crystal this time. I’m too tired to crystal anymore, so I’m going to go mana. I’ll mana crystal you mana.

/mana crystal

Alright alright, let’s settle down here.

A lot of people are getting all excited about some kind of upcoming changes, and space goat is somehow making the effluvium hit the sprinklers (what?) with her backwards glances on how well things have gone so far. And then there’s little old me, coughing and wheezing as I come straggling out of Utgarde Keep, barely alive and with nothing but the experience (and some cash) to carry out with me.

I believe it may be time to remind people of some things that they may be taking for granted, or just plain forgetting. The following are all things that I wished I had time to properly explain while in pugs over the past week. They are things you should know by now, but for some reason, either never learned or figured you knew better.

You do not. I am right. Shut up, sit down, listen.

Pulling:

The tank pulls.
Especially in a pug, where you know at least half the group is phoning it in, you let the tank pull. Even if you have a hunter, who swears he knows how to use misdirect, it’s often not worth it. “Oops, misdirected to healer” is not what I like to hear. With people thinking random AFK’s are a good idea, I’d rather have to wait a few extra seconds for the tank to come back, than to have someone ‘help out’ and pull for the tank, only to find out that HEY. HANNERS IS TANKING LOL. For the doucheknights, please be aware that your yank-and-spank spell, while amusing, does nothing for my nerves. You are going from 0 to Tanking in less than a second, but only on one mob. The others are coming at you only because you just jerked their friend across the room by the face. ANY heal I do to you is going to make them more angry at me, and then what are you going to do? In my experience, you are then going to run around like a moron, wondering why all the monsters just rushed past you.

Sheep Pulls are Stupid.
When did this start becoming common again? I realize that mages might feel they have been left out of the utility fun with the complete lack of CC lately, but come on use some sense. You have the highest intelligence ratings of the group, but you can’t figure out why I throw a hissy fit every time you decide to sheep your target before the tank pulls? It’s because everyone who is not currently chewing grass is now running at you! Again, if I heal you at all, they are instead running at ME. You have iceblock, I have a shield that can take two hits, maybe, then I’m flatlined. If you’re having a problem with your target being in the concecrate or being hit by aoe from the group, then - hey! Not your problem anymore. If you can’t control your target before it gets into range of those things, that indicates something YOU need to fix. Not the tank. And certainly not ME.

Wipe:

In a wipe, EVERYONE RUNS.
Having all three dps suddenly go afk, sometimes they tell me sometimes they don’t, as soon as we hit the floor is one of the most infuriating things. I am running back. Me, the one that was either the first one dead or the one healing my guts out until the last second. The one person in the group guaranteed to have to buff everyone when we get back up. I have to get my mana up, buff, and then get my mana up again. You can not move forward until I do that anyway, so you are not saving yourself any time. In fact, you are wasting more time by forcing me to have enough mana to resurrect you after I run all the way back, because that’s more time I have to spend chugging back that terrible seal blech. If the healer is running back, everyone should run back. And you other people that try to defend this behavior with “It’s ok, I’ll rez” are NOT helping. If everyone pops to life at the beginning of the instance, then they have the entire run back to regen mana and health, so we are nearly good to go by the time we’re back to where we were. If we’re even slightly coordinated, other wonderful things can happen. I can buff while running! Other people can buff while running! Hell, the hunter can even make us RUN FASTER. Look! Synergy or something!

When a wipe is eminent, KEEP FIGHTING.
If you’re the tank, you may have the tricks to pull it off and save it from being a wipe.
If you’re dps, you may be able to take down one or two more baddies before you drop.
If you’re the healer, you and that one random other guy might be able to stand up against the odds.

Feign Death/Vanish/ (and wtf is ‘shadowmeld’?)
Unless you’re the healer, do NOT try to drop agro and hide in order to spare yourself a repair bill or something. You may wind up pulling out of the battle just as the others in your group are pulling out the stops to survive. Now your lazy butt is trying to determine if you need to get back in the fight, or if you just shot everyone’s chances and NOW it’s a wipe. If you have a rez, this is somewhat forgivable, but still looks cowardly. If you don’t have a rez, and you wind up being the lone survivor in a wipe that you may have contributed to by ducking out early, then you are just an ass and I hate you. But to be the type of creature that does that, you probably laugh at my hate - in which case you can also laugh at the other people in my ignore list WHICH YOU JUST JOINED. Roffle, my good sir, roffle.

Summoning Stone:

Go to it.
If there are 4 people in the group, EVERYONE STARTS HEADING TO THE STONE. I cannot stress this enough. Mostly because that vein in my temple is starting to get twitchy. I COULD stress this enough, but something would burst. I have been having a hard time getting groups together, mostly because everyone is looking to get carried through these places, or they’re refusing to tank until they realize the tank they’re stuck with is not as ooberleet (troll for ‘very special’) as they feel they are. Nothing is quite as infuriating as being the last one to a group, dropping whatever quests you were working on and running to the nearest flight master in order to fly across the continent and realize that you’re the first one there. The only other person even on their way is in Zangarmarsh and their hearth to Dalaran is on cooldown so they’re heading to Shattrath to port to Undercity to fly to Howling Fjord. Everyone else is afk, in battlegrounds, or “lol I’m in dalaran and don’t have any fp from here! Lol”. That’s when I flip a coin to decide whether to just suck it up and stick it out - or drop group and do some quests for the dead guys nearby. Maybe hope that I get caught under one of those lurid green vats when their containing glass fractures, my pain may end early.

Also: don’t be the jerkoff that runs into the instance the moment you’ve been summoned. Especially if one of the people that summoned you JUST SAID: “I have to go afk for a sec, summon the others ok?” Because then I AM JUST STANDING THERE NEXT TO SOMEONE WHO HAS GONE COMATOSE WHILE YOU PICK YOUR NOSE IN THE INSTANCE A:LJKS(* @)(@)!*!JF)S.

/mana crystal

Playing in a group:

If you get agro (because you’re stupid and forgot you aren’t the tank) - do not run down the hall trying to give me the ‘hi sign’. You run towards the tank. You always run. Towards. The tank. Remember back in Rage Fire Chasm? When you realized that running from monsters in an instance only means you DIE TIRED? Still applies, bucko!

If you’re the tank (bless your heart) and you have to maneuver away from a badguy that is doing bad things - remember line of sight. Out of line of sight from the badguy = good. Ding sound! Out of line of sight from the healer = bad. Bing bong sound. If there is a circular place, with a bunch of columns, and the badguy does a big effect that you have to move away from - where is the optimal place for the healer to stand? In the center! If I were behind the badguy, I’d be in danger of having you run out of range while I’m getting too close to being up on the badguy. Plus, since it’s a circle, you might go around behind a pole as I’m casting. If I were behind YOU, then I’d be in danger of being underneath the badguy when he does something, because you backed up and lead him right at me. But if I’m in the center, and you’re moving backwards around this circle - not only are you ducking behind columns away from me, but you probably aren’t moving backwards fast enough to dodge his big effects. You are, in short, just screwing with me. I’m looking at you, big bad guy at the top of the Keep. You and your roars. Grr.

Traps are good if you’re protecting the healer. Traps are bad if you just run into a group of badguys and start an exploding trap beneath them before the tank has agro. What the hell, guy?

Declaring, at the beginning of the instance, that you ‘go kinda fast’, does not give you carte blanche (that’s elf for “wtf are you doing”) to ignore my mana pool and the tank’s health. Even if you are the tank (especially if you are the tank). Subsequently asking me “What happened there, lag spike?” when you die is NOT going to make me giggle and ask which inn you’re currently living in.

Any time you find yourself saying “lol that’ll be good for my alts”, pause and see if what you just picked up happened to have bound itself to your soul like a lamprey eel. If you do, in fact, say this out loud but realize you are an idiot, make sure you pick up a rock. Then you can say “My alts love shiny rocks. I was talking about the rock. Why are you looking at me like that?”

If you need something, push the damn need button. If you don’t, but can use the cash, hit the damn greed button. If you’re on top of a giant wall with a lake behind you and an alliance town in a valley in front of you, push the Dam Release button. Oh ho ho ho ho! (Push the damn release button if it’s a wipe, you lazy whacktard.)

Playing in a group is a lot different than roughing it out there on your own. You have to think a little bit about what you’re working with. Don’t rely on the crap you’ve been able to get away with while your guild holds your hand through previous dungeons, or your bestest buddy in the world who is already knocking on Arthas’ door while you’re trying your hand at rescuing Thrall from Durnholde for the first time. This time you’re running with me, and I. Will. Let. Your. Ass. Die.

But I’ll probably feel guilty about it afterwards. Dammit.

/mana crystal

Today’s diatribe is brought to you by the numbers “Dammit someone stole half my guild bank” and the letters “F” and “U“. I’m lucky to have made it through with half a pack of crystals left… Our paladin woke up naked except for her tabard somewhere just outside of Ratchet, and the Mistress is just a wee bit livid. Don’t mention the proto-drake whelp…

So I was going to have a stand-in person for this. I caught Thomas The Troll out there in the streets looking for alms as a war-wounded vet. After failing to convince him that ‘killed in action’ does not qualify him for any wounded-in-combat medals or awards, and that playing on people’s emotions only works if you don’t have to over-explain everything when they question your wounded status (”No, really. I was wounded. Then killed. Then brought back. Then fought free of the control and proved myself to Thrall again and - hey where are you going?”), I thought I had a sure-fire patsy to coddle you masses with an educational post about death knights.Apparently he’s much more interested in trying to run Hellfire Ramparts as part of a 5 doucheknight team at the moment. I heard one of them call out “Healers lol” as they galloped away.

So it’s just me and you again, trapped in this awkward moment right after it’s become all to clear that we almost avoided having to interact. That sort of instant where the third wheel of the date is left with the fourth wheel of the date, as the first two wheels wander off to make smoochface beside the city fountains. “Um, hi. Yeah, I came with Turrilyin and Murranidillo. Oh, how long have you known them? Yeah, that’s nice. What do you do? I’m a priestess. Yeah. Um. Want to make out?”

So uncomfortable. But hey, that’s why they make mana crystals, right?

DON’T JUDGE ME.

Since we’re stuck together for the duration, I thought it might be good to find something interesting for us to discuss. Yes, I realize things have been rather one-sided for a while, after my abrupt departure from the whole “ask me questions thing”, but you have to admit that most of the questions seemed to be a bit on the snarky side. And we can’t have that. Snarkiness is only acceptable in small doses. And from me. Not you. I refuse to share the Elune Stone spotlight. Shoo.

Rather than fall into that trap again and allow you miscreants to think you have some level of importance here besides taking my number of comments to levels that make even the space goat envious, I will open the floor in a way that is so over-the-top magnanimous as to make you grateful for the mere opportunity to speak.

Vonya has pointed out, after my last segment indicated some hint of partiality towards the cause of druids, that I have not said a word towards the flaws and failings of priests. My response is: aside from certain frosty-haired and curvy-horned trollops, priests are flawless.

Discuss amongst yourselves.

I have been accused of a lot of things, but lately one accusation caught me off guard.  It made me pause in my face-melting penance-chucking Etherial-dodging adventures long enough to realize it needed to be amended.  I would hate for you kiddies to get the false impression that there was somehow a group of people out there immune to my venom.

They may have ‘remove curse’ and ‘abolish poison’, but druids are no where near immune to my paint-curling curses when they screw up my dungeon crawl.

Admittedly, it’s a lot more distracting to see a giant orc, or troll, rogue bouncing around and trying to ‘pvp’ a monster who doesn’t care whether you’re in front, behind, or inside it.  That joker will swivel, dammit, you cannot dodge by jumping!  Even fruity elf rogue guys with their ‘lookitmespin!’ thing; I hear the night elves were already legendary for driving their groups mad with the sproing sproing sproing flip sproing sproing.  So a ugly yellow cat, low to the ground and looking more like a mishmash of lion and those flying scorpion-tailed thingies, is kind of a nice change of pace.  Even if it’s hopping up and down.  And as tanks, they’re not half bad.  They’ve got some tools that seem fun, whatever they are.  There’s that one that looks like a claw swipe, and then there’s the other one that looks like a big claw swipe, and then the claw thing, and that other claw thing.  They look better than they sound, trust me.

But I do have Teh Hate.  Owl-bear-deer-cows.  How I hate you.

No no, I understand.  Everyone loves the dance.  Lawl lawl, dance, ye chosen of Elune, dance.  What the poop-quest ever.  This big ol’ tub of lard is hanging out, basically on top of me, summoning small planetoids that zot badguys, and then the little green snotballs of sparkling angst.  That’s less than cool already, but then?  Then you pull aggro.

Okay, everyone makes mistakes, just shut off the dps valve, wait a sec, and let’s move on before they chew through the fat and feathers.  At least, that’s what I’m thinking the first few seconds I notice monsters running at mister owlbear.  When I realize he is still doing the lawlpewpew, I get worried.  And then I pipe up.  “You have aggro…”  and I shield him.  

I ALWAYS SHIELD THEM.  It’s become instinct now.  “Oh god an idiot… bweem!”  I envision myself as some sort of over-worked, twitchy super hero, standing near the edges of thunderbluff.  “Oh no, another one…” and here comes the wobble-dee-wobble of a moonkin towards the cliff.  Bweem!  Squaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwk.  But he’s fine, cuz he’s shielded.

So this guy wanders…or rather charges, over that proverbial cliff of aggro.  I don’t know much about these freaks of nature, but I do know they have no ‘fade’ equivalent.  So what he is doing is a Bad Idea.   At least peeing on a goblin’s servo-wire-worg-repeller fence is only going to knock YOU out of the gene pool.  THIS bad idea is going to wind up hurting ME at the same time.

“You need to let the tank get it,” I manage to squeak, ashamed at the fact that I’m hiding behind this huge feathered abomination.  Part of me is thinking that I might escape a beating if I hide beneath its corpse.

“lawl its okay watch, i got it”.  Or maybe it was just ‘rawk rawk moo squawk’.  I dunno.  I may be getting creative with the dialogue.  It was a stressful moment.

So…  priesty hiding behind a moonkin.  Moonkin shooting stars and whatnot as fast as he can.  Monsters are not liking it so they’re coming to politely ask him to stop.  Tank is chasing the monsters which have suddenly begun ignoring him.

Then this huge wall of water gushes out of the moonkin, through the monsters and through the tank, and the monsters are launched up over the tank and down the hall.  Tank spins on his heels and turns around to chase them in the other direction.

I don’t want to know where this water came from.   I don’t care.  I don’t like it.

After seeing it that time, I’ve kept an eye out.  I can safely say, I think it is stupid.  It doesn’t help anybody!  I hate it.  Maybe it’d be useful to get the things off of me (the healer? hello?), so the tank could pick them up.  But usually if the things are after me, it’s because mister “lawl pew pew squawk!” is already toast.

Though…I imagine this is probably fun in battlegrounds.  Too bad my mind-control won’t let me make use of it.  Drat.

wtb REAL mind control, so I can water-shove people off cliffs and into machinery.

Oddly enough, I have never really had many problem with lecherous encounters. It seems like everyone else I know has - my husband (on his female characters), my coworkers (also female characters), Aensu (on every character of any race or gender he ever plays)…the list goes on and on.

It’s like an epidemic that I am oddly immune to. Believe me, I’m not complaining. This post was spurred by a friend who tried to play an alt only to have another player latch on to her and dog her heels for about an hour, spamming group invites, “helping” her kill mobs, and emoting crudely at her.

I can’t be sure that he was attempting a romantic encounter, but it’s funnier if I do.

Surely some of you have had similar encounters, or tales of woefully offbeat advances while on your characters.

Tell me, oh blogosphere, what rules would you add to the following list?

Rule 1) There is never any situation in which the /lick emote is appropriate.

And I mean that wholeheartedly. I don’t care what you do in the relatively public depths of Goldshire - at that point you should be more imaginative anyway.

Rule 2) The /flirt emote is funny, not attractive.

Rule 3) Spamming guild and group invites (or requests to duel, for that matter) are irritating, not romantic. I’m not sure if there is a subset of the gaming population who does appreciate a constantly spammed invitation in the game, but everyone I know finds it unbearably rude.