orcish army knife

Minipost: Introducing the Anti-Fabulor

2012-02-13T04:37:00.000-08:00

Uh oh, Fabulor's old buddy from Paladin training is back in town!

Catulla and I were chatting on the weekend about lamp sounds and PASSIONATE DEBATE OF FORSAKEN and whatnot when she mentioned that she had an old Paladin character who she loved but hadn't had the chance to play lately. It occurred to us that maybe, just maybe, she should transfer said Paladin over to Drenden and come hang out in TTGF with myself, Buglamp, Narci and the rest of the TTGF crew!

However, we needed a name, and possibly a character theme first. Catulla mentioned how great it would be if her Paladin was a foil to Fabulor - the Anti-Fabulor, if you will.

And suddenly, I had the perfect name.

A quick check to see if the name met Narci-approval (it did) and the decision was made! Shortly thereafter, Fabulor's sighing, head-shaking-at-Fabu's-antics friend was settling in on Drenden.

How did we welcome her to the server? Oh, you know, nothing special.

Turns out you only have to be level 50 to zone into Ahn'Qiraj! We gathered up Bug, Cynwise and Narci, and headed in to stomp us some bugs! (Aldous would later join us, swapping in for Cyn to finish off AQ40.)

Cyn took this nice kill shot after our AQ20 kill. (Yes, that Hunter worm pet is named Narci.)

As for Fabulor and Drabulor? They have yet to encounter each other, but when it happens, it will undoubtedly be hilarious! :D

Fabulor's Love Fool Guide (get others to do the work!)

2012-02-07T04:32:00.000-08:00

Greetings, peasants. It is I, your marvelous Fabulor. You may commence rejoicing, for I come before you today to educate you about my annual celebration, Love is in the Air!

Oh, not how you too can be the recipient of global adoration and infatuation such as myself. Oh, no no no, mes amis, you misunderstand. Such ambitions are simply beyond one of your meager ilk, I'm afraid. Leave that to the professionals (read: Fabulor).

However, fret not! Even a uncharismatic boor like yourself can derive some enjoyment out of the festivities, while those gifted with superior looks and charm enjoy the romantic bounties being hurled our way. I have received word that the merchants are offering small tokens of decadence and some quaint keepsakes, which I assume are for bringing home and tucking away in a tacky little scrapbook or placing it with reverence on your mantle, or whatever it is you common folk do. So have fun with these! Or something.

It also appears that you can receive a special ceremonial title signifying your dedication to love, something Fabulor highly approves of! After all, while you cannot be me (no matter how hard you wish it), you can at least imitate your golden object of elven perfection by proudly proclaiming yourself as a Love Fool (for Fabulor). (It's implied.)

There are a number of menial tasks you must complete before you will receive the title. Even as famous a lover as myself had to jump through their hoops like some...worker! I could scarcely believe it. They wanted ME to go gather up dozens of gaudy little charms and work my delicate fingers to the bone, all to earn those little chocolates and sweets? How droll. And besides, have you seen those bracelets? Apparently "Lovely" means "cheap and shabby" in peasant. You'll never catch me wearing one of THOSE, that's for certain.

Fortunately, my cunning intellect and giant brain quickly devised a way to circumvent these tasks. The answer? Why, make others do all the work for you, naturally! Simply inform your legions of fans and groupies that you are in need of their assistance, and they'll trample each other in their frantic rush to please you and, maybe, catch your eye.

Here is a brief rundown of what your fans can do for you.

Lovely Charms and Lovely Charm Bracelets

First things first, those dreadful bracelets. Rather than spend your valuable time and effort out getting filthy scrounging the things from corpses, send your admirers to do the dirty work! The Lovely Charms will be bound to them, but the resulting Lovely Charm Bracelets (created by combining 10 Lovely Charms) are not soulbound. They can give them to you directly (I recommend wearing gloves - who knows where these people have been?), or if you prefer not to mingle with the hired help, they can also mail them to you.

Of course, this will only be tolerated after suitably gift-wrapping the bracelets first. Since the bracelets are limited duration items, the Azeroth post simply will not accept them. Bureaucracy! Feh! However, if you gift-wrap them, nobody will suspect a thing - ho hum, just one of Fabulor's standard stream of presents, nothing to see here.

Besides, this isn't some impoverished charity case they're sending their offerings to! There's a certain level of class that must be maintained.

In return for their hard work, I suggest rewarding them with a few coins, perhaps bestow upon them a warm smile if you are feeling generous. They'll never again wash the face that your smile shone upon! (If they even wash their face at all to begin with...) And if you want to be truly outrageous, you could even speak with them and verbally acknowledge their presence - such an act of kingly benevolence will likely be talked about in their hovel for weeks to come!

Bag of Heart Candies
How amusing! It's like someone took my fan mail and turned them into candies! Charming. Anyway, you will need to eat each of the eight different candies that can be found within these bags. The bags are alarmingly inexpensive, and the flavor reflects this - try to swallow them before their chalky flavor reaches your palette. If you like, you can ask your chef to brush them with a light almond glaze before consumption - it *might* help.

These bags bind on pickup, so your servants and admirers won't be able to simply hand them over. However, the candies themselves are not soulbound, and they can be traded directly from their grubby little paws into your finely manicured hands. Unfortunately, they cannot be mailed (limited duration), and they also cannot be gift-wrapped, due to their stackable nature. Why can't you gift-wrap stackable items? I have no idea. I don't send gifts - I receive them.

Do not worry, however! Fabulor has the answer. If you grant your servants access to your guild bank (and if there is room, amidst your countless jewels and riches), they can deposit their hard-earned candies for you to withdraw later at your leisure. Be careful now! Be sure to only give them permission to deposit, and not withdraw! The riches contained within are undoubtedly enough to tempt even the most loyal of acquaintances.

Box of Chocolates
More sugar? Don't these people know sweets are bad for the complexion, and my waistline? The sacrifices we make in the name of fashion, I tell you.

Similar to the Bag of Candies, the Box of Chocolates contains a random assortment of sweets, and you must sample each one to receive credit. The box itself is not soulbound, so be prepared for a flood of starry-eyed crushes shoving them into your hands, likely half-melted from their sweaty grips and the burning heat in their loins. Like the candies, both the box and the individual chocolates cannot be mailed, nor can they be gift-wrapped and then mailed, but either can be stored in the guild bank.

Handful of Rose Petals, Love Rocket, Silver Shafted Arrow
Finally, some useful gifts! I adore the rose petals - there's no telling when you'll end up in a dirty, smelly cave and need something pleasantly scented to freshen up the place. If I could, I'd hire a lad to follow me around and shower me in petals constantly, but alas, somethings are beyond even my incomparable wealth.

Those rockets explode into the air in a beautiful, dazzling heart. How perfect! I intend to collect a great deal of these toys while they are still in stock. It will be such a hit at parties, announcing my arrival in true Fabulor fashion. Perhaps I should contact the manufacturer, and commission some that spell FABU in in the sky, or perhaps simply my handsome face.

I have nothing nice to say about the Silver Shafted Arrow, however. The creature that gets summoned is horrid.

All three of these items - you guessed it - cannot be mailed, nor gift-wrapped and mailed, but they can be traded in person or stashed in a guild bank.

Love Fool
These strange mechanical contraptions won't fit in the mail, and are too bulky to be gift-wrapped. They also appear to be a safety hazard, as my bank manager steadfastly refused to let one of my fans leave one in the guild bank for me.

Unfortunately, this means that if you want someone else to get you the required Love Fools, they'll have to be accepted in person. You can either bite the bullet and endure close personal time with one of your admirers, or you could enlist the assistance of a third party to acquire the Love Fool, then pass it on to you. Personally, I suggest the latter. Simply send your butler or your maid out to fetch it for you - that's what you pay them for, isn't it?

Of course, you don't need to actually have the Love Fools yourself to complete this objective. If you hear that one of your peers is collecting them, simply let them know that you would be delighted to join them. Who could say no to a face like this?

Romantic Picnic Basket
Ah, now this is a treat. With one of these, a romantic meal is but a few seconds away! And you know, it's quite kind to share yourself with the less fortunate. In fact, don't just break out the basket in the middle of a crowded room, or there will be ladies (and probably some gentlemen) swooning and fainting all over the place. Be considerate of their easily-wooed hearts!

Even if you don't care to own one of these yourself, you don't need to necessarily gather up the funds required to purchase one. Just get a hold of a Buttermilk Delight from the Box of Chocolates, and ask around for someone who has the basket already. It'll be their lucky day! A rare, private lunch date with Fabulor? People would kill for such a prize!

* * * * *
So you see, attaining the Love Fool title really isn't that much work if you simply get others to do the work for you. Before long, this prestigious title will be yours, so ready yourself for the never-ending stream of affection!

After all, being a Love Fool (for Fabulor) is simply fabulous.

Minipost: Fabulor the Love Fool

2012-02-06T03:49:00.000-08:00

Finally, Fabulor's time has come!

Ever since he was created, I knew there could be only one title for the magnificent fabulous one: Love Fool. Sadly, Fabulor wasn't created until May, so I missed my chance last year.

On an unrelated note, this is the earliest screenshot I have of Fabu.

Some things just never change.

Anyway, Love is in the Air - I've waited all year for this. Fabulor had earned a few titles here or there, but I refused to use any of them.

Fabulor would accept only the best.

And now, after a frantic effort on the weekend, Fabulor is complete. No effort was too much, including lurking outside the Stormwind gates to throw rose petals at Alliance players (got a Dwarf Hunter this way), to rolling an Alliance player on my trial account and /who stalking Stormwind inhabitants late, late Friday night, to try to find a (surprisingly) elusive Draenei Paladin and Gnome Warlock.

This was Sunday:

But eventually I had enough rockets, arrows, Love Fools, candies, chocolates and well you get the picture, and Fabulor had himself the most suitable title in the game!

I mean, really. Could there be a more perfect match?

The only thing that would make this holiday more complete is if Fabulor got the Big Love Rocket mount. It would pretty much be the best thing ever.

How to see who can craft what in your whole guild

2012-02-02T08:30:00.000-08:00

One of the most common questions I see asked in guild chat is who can cut a certain gem or if anyone has a certain enchant. Back when Cataclysm came out, we actually had a stickied forum post with every gem cut and which guild member could cut them, which was very handy when trying to decide on pattern purchases.

However, did you know that you can actually view, browse and search the professions of every guild member, whether they're online or not?

1. Open guild tab
2. Select "Professions" from the dropdown menu at the top
3. Check the box at the bottom that says "Show Offline Members"
4. Find the profession you want, then hit [View All]
5. Browse, find whatever you're looking for, then hit "View Crafters"
6. A box will show up titled Guild Crafters, showing you who can make it!

So you see, there's really no need to ask in guild who can craft you something, or who had this cut, or etc. Just open the guild tab and five seconds later, you have your answer! All the usual browsing methods work while filtering your search - you can search by name, you can type in Intellect or Inferno Ruby, or you can manually select which slot you want to browse.

Very straightforward, but I suspect many people have no idea you can even do this. I only chanced upon this sometime in Firelands, I think it was?

This is a very convenient way to know which of your guildies can craft a specific item you're looking for. However, it can also be a nice way of finding pieces for low-level alts, or for Transmogrifying! Wondering if there's a nice robe available for your lowbie Mage? Check out guild Tailoring! Looking for a Plate Helm to round out your Transmog set? Select guild Blacksmithing and browse away to your heart's content!

(Funny story: I did this to browse which guns our guild Engineers could make, as I wanted to transmog the Mark "S" Boomstick. I was delighted to discover that someone could make it! ME. Yeah. I had completely forgotten I could make it and had just assumed that I couldn't.)

There's no guarantee you'll find what you're looking for, but I'm often pleasantly surprised at the random old-world stuff my guildies can make! Of course, if you're like me, you'll find an awesome, no-longer-available weapon that can only be made by someone you've never heard of who hasn't logged on in over 3 years.

(Don't forget that Mail pieces can be made by both Leatherworking and Blacksmithing, and that there are a few craftable non-Cloth cloaks.)

Minipost: BETRAAAAAAAAAAYS Y'ALL

2012-01-30T11:23:00.000-08:00

The voice acting in Dragon Soul is...well, it's something special. From the wooden and robotic Lord Sassafras (or whatever) in the beginning, to Ultraxion's hilariously unforgettable introduction, the voice acting is so bad it's good. I hope this was intentional. It really gives you something to laugh about when you're wiping on a boss repeatedly.

For my guild, our favorite has to be from the Warmaster Blackhorn fight. Blackhorn himself is pretty bad, but Sky Captain Swayze yelling about his engines in his ridiculous accent (which we have coined "Westfall Redneck") never fails to amuse us.

On our second kill, somehow, Sindragosa's infamous lines entered the picture. That's right. Westfall Redneck Sindragosa. Now THAT'S a thing of nightmares.

(The kill itself is ridiculously sloppy, as we let not one but TWO Twilight Sappers murder our ship. 1% health airship FTW!)

Gnews: Wickerman Festival canceled, Forsaken sad

2012-01-25T12:52:00.000-08:00

(Image courtesy of scrnTAG.com)

by Lexicon Quillsniffer

Tirisfal Glades trees are breathing a sigh of relief today after Lady Sylvanas Windrunner announced that there would be no Wickerman Festival this year.

The annual event saw Forsaken residents gathering around an enormous wicker effigy before Windrunner lit it aflame, symbolizing their struggle against the Lich King and others who would oppose them. While the event was focused on the Forsaken and their history, members of other races were warmly welcomed, and encouraged to enjoy the festivities.

"My fellow Forsaken, I am pleased to announce that our efforts in Hillsbrad and the Plaguelands have met with great success," said Windrunner in a global press release. "Next, I intend to heavily focus on expanding our influence in the the Arathi Highlands and re-establishing our chokehold on Gilneas. The Hinterlands are also tantalizingly close, and it is my goal to deliver Aerie Peak into my people's hands as soon as possible.

"However, in light of our jam-packed schedule, I have decided to hold the next Wickerman Festival in a year's time. I will release more details about our military objectives in the weeks ahead. Power and glory to the Forsaken."

The unexpected announcement has staggered Forsaken citizens, and a palpable sense of confusion and dazed disbelief has spread throughout the Undercity. Most of Windrunner's people seem to be accepting and understanding of their leader's decision, but are still deeply saddened by the cancellation.

"Well, I am sure the Dark Lady knows what she's doing," said Apothecary Lycanus, "I mean, on a practical level? I get it. She has to prioritize our resources for upcoming military efforts. But am I disappointed? Of course.

"The burning of the Wicker Man gave us something to celebrate together," continued Lycanus. "It allowed us - if only briefly - to forget whatever troubles or issues we might have in our normal lives. For a few hours, it let us simply relax and enjoy a few moments of peace and camaraderie with our brethren. This year just won't be the same without it."

The news was quite unwelcome to Forsaken who lived far from the Undercity. To Clarice Foster, who resides in Thunder Bluff, the announcement came as "a kick in the teeth."

"My year is RUINED," said Foster, scowling. "I look forward to the Wickerman Festival every year, not simply because it allows us to celebrate our people's culture, not just because I get to watch that big Arthas-stand-in burn, but because I also get to visit with all of my old friends, who I so rarely see nowadays. This may come as a shock, but I do miss my people. Do you have any idea how long it takes to send a letter from Thunder Bluff?"

Calder Gray, a Forsaken posted to Desolation Hold in the Southern Barrens, was visibly upset when he received the news.

"This is dreadful news, simply dreadful!" moaned Gray, putting aside the brain he was carrying to rub his temples. "My beautiful little child was created out here in the field - he's never actually been to the Undercity or had a chance to learn about our history! In fact, he has never even seen another Forsaken before! I'm the only undead face he knows, poor fellow. He was so looking forward to learning about where he came from, and now I'll have to disappoint him."

One Forsaken rogue named Corpsegrinder had an awful lot to say on the matter. Unfortunately, his profanity filter had switched on and this writer was unable to understand anything he said.

However, not everyone is upset by the festival's postponement. Critics of the wildly controversial Banshee Queen have pounced, proclaiming her decision as clear indications of weakness.

"This is why I should be leader," said Lord Godfrey in a letter which was received by post earlier today. "I would never cancel your Wicker Guy Carnival, or whatever it is. If you are sick of her lazy attitude toward things, you should seriously consider quitting Sylvanas' Forsaken. Her ways are old and tired. Cancel your allegiance and come reside with me in this dirty rotten keep. It's way better."

"I'm the Windrunner-killer, after all," he added.

Horde Warchief Garrosh Hellscream was unsympathetic upon hearing of his peer's decision.

"First she loses a lot of loyal followers in Silverpine, now she's canceling her yearly celebration, even though her people all love it? Sounds like someone's panicking, LOL," said Hellscream.

Windrunner declined to comment on the announcement or her people's reactions. She did, however, state that Hellscream was "an idiot."

Minipost: Chocolatepie, Muffen and Coffeh

2012-01-23T03:08:00.000-08:00

Ever since Wrath of the Lich King came out, there's been something rather special about Hellfire Ramparts. The endless stream of baby Death Knights, unsure how to use their abilities, freshly decked out in their Lich King finest...yes, I think we are all familiar with the dreaded - or in some cases, highly anticipated - Ramps experience.

I decided to dust off my little Forsaken mage on the weekend, and got her up to Outlands level. I dove into Ramps because cripes, anything is better than questing through Hellfire again, and oh, Ramps did not disappoint me.

I ended up in a group with three Death Knights. They immediately began pulling - not unusual - but after the first set of mobs, the healer dropped group. The DKs paused for a moment, looked around...and kept pulling, unfazed. I began updating Twitter on this amazing run as it occurred:

Chocolatepie, Muffen, and Coffeh.

What hilariously awesome names for a trio of DK friends. :D

Somehow, we survived a few pulls. I sheeped whatever I could, they just...each grabbed a different target and whacked away, and we staggered onward. Poor Chocolatepie died, but a quick Mass Resurrection and he was back in the fight.

It's difficult to explain just how chaotic these three were. They would just clump together and swarm around targets, and two of them were Tauren, so it was just this bulging mass of blue steel and skulls rolling over the floor, enveloping Fel Orcs and wolves in its wake.

Don't believe me? Look!

That's me, roasting the last mob in a pull, who was right next to me. But what's up with my DK buddies? What are they doing over there?? They're all just gathered together having a picnic or something. It's like we're in a football game and they've decided to hold an emergency huddle.

This is what THE ENTIRE RUN WAS LIKE.

Amazingly, we got a healer who didn't drop group in horror upon seeing them. He did ask who was tanking, and honestly, this was a good question. Two of the three DKs were in Blood spec, and they all seemed to randomly switch presences whenever they felt like it.

We eventually finished up with minimal losses or deaths, and when asked if I wanted to queue again, I of course said yes. How could I resist? This was too priceless for words.

So thanks for the hilarious dungeon runs, you three. You absolutely made my day.

Non-Raid Transmog Weapons: Staves

2012-01-19T11:18:00.000-08:00

There's nothing quite as feeble as a caster smacking something with their staff. These things are for looks, not for hitting people! Anyway, there are very nice non-raid staves out there. Some simple, some ornate. Take your pick!

Casters, remember that you can use Agi staves, finally! And vice-versa for Feral Druids and Hunters.

Once again, Morgion is wearing a plain white dress so the staff models wouldn't blend in with her dark leg armor.

Non-Raid Staves
	Ameer's Judgement Required Level: 68 Source: Quest Not every staff has to be huge and clunky. This small cane would be nice for a Frost or Arcane Mage. There are numerous recolors available.
	Angerstaff Required Level: 57 Source: Bind on Equip Common model, but visually quite nice. Check AH. Clones include Seer's Cane (requires Exalted with Scryers, 56g base price) and Frenzied Staff (BoE green). Staff of Athen'a (Dire Maul) is a turqoise recolor, and Blood Elf Priests can get Staff of the Sunchaser (Quest).
	Blood Boil Lancet Required Level: 80 Source: Forge of Souls Very wicked-looking staff. 24% drop rate. Shares a model with a raid drop, and Staff of Draconic Combat from Heroic Oculus.
	Bloodfire Greatstaff Required Level: 70 Source: Black Morass (Normal/Heroic) This great looking staff is a unique model, has that cool glowy-ember look, and is nice and hefty. Has a 15% drop rate on both Normal and Heroic.
	Chelley's Staff of Dark Mending Required Level: 85 Source: Bind on Equip This dark metallic staff has a unique look, and can sometimes be found on the AH. It's not that great now, but it's still quite good for someone newly dinged 85, so expect to pay 5-10k for it.
	Conifer Cone Staff Required Level: 68 Source: Bind on Equip The famous "pinecone" staff is very distinctive, that's for sure. It's a random green drop, so check AH. The only other available staff with this model is a raid drop out of Blackwing Lair.
	Crystalfire Staff Required Level: 60 Source: Hellfire Ramparts Nice mix of crystalline pink and metallic purple. 15% drop rate. Shares a model with Staff of Sorcerer-Thane Thaurissan (Archaeology) and Battle Mage's Baton (Quest reward).
	Draenic Wildstaff Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Auchenai Crypts Simple but appropriate look for Restoration Druids or Shamans. 17% drop rate. Shares a model with some Druid-only low-level staves, which are quest rewards from a level 20 Druid quest in Shadowfang Keep. (Horde, Alliance)
	Dreamer's Dragonstaff Required Level: 70 Source: The Botanica (Normal / Heroic) What even is it on the end of this staff? A plant? A claw? Who knows. Kinda cool looking though. 18% drop rate on both Normal and Heroic. A few recolors - Swarming Sting-Staff (Pink, Bind on Equip), and Wild Wood Staff (Light icy blue, Quest reward).
	Staff of Earned Tranquility Required Level: 5 Source: Quest (Worgen only) This staff is only available to new Worgen characters, but I had to list it. It's an incredible model, as rose petals constantly drift slowly from the roses. Shares a model with the Alliance-only Chillwind Staff (Alliance Quest), though the Chillwind Staff has darker flowers.
	Engraved Gargoyle Femur Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Pit of Saron Nice elegant look, very magical looking with the runes and floating bits. 29% drop rate. Only other item that shares the model is a raid drop.
	Epoch-Mender Required Level: 68 Source: Black Morass (Normal/Heroic) Rich purple, unique model. Has a faint blueish glow at the end which persists after transmogging, overwriting your weapon's actual enchant. 17% drop rate on both Normal and Heroic.
	Feral Staff of Lashing Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Botanica This animated...plant/parasite-looking thing makes for a great nature or otherworldly look. 14% drop rate.
	Greatstaff of the Leviathan Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Underbog This...plant/insect/pseudopod thing has an animated tongue that slowly wiggles back and forth. Quite an interesting model. 17% drop rate.
	Staff of Feral Furies Required Level: 80 Source: Vendors (Various) This large staff is Horde-only, and is a unique model. It is purchasable from the Argent Tournament vendors for 25 Champion's Seals.
	Silvery Sylvan Stave Required Level: 80 Source: Vendors (Various) This large staff is Alliance-only, and is a unique model. It is purchasable from the Argent Tournament vendors for 25 Champion's Seals.
	Fleshling Simulation Staff Required Level: 68 Source: Quest Classic look for bear druids! Quest reward from Netherstorm.
	Ursol's Claw Required Level: 60 Source: Hellfire Ramparts Classic look for bear druids! 19% drop rate from last boss in Hellfire Ramparts.
	Wildcaller Required Level: 68 Source: Quest (Horde, Alliance) Classic look for bear druids! Quest reward, obtainable by either faction. Has a twin, Braxxis' Staff of Slumber, a Bind-on-Equip drop.
	Staff of the Forest Lord Required Level: 70 Source: Vendor Despite the name, this staff seems more at home in the gold and red streets of Silvermoon than a forest. Perfect for Blood Elves! Costs 780 Justice Points.
	Frostscythe of Lord Ahune Required Level: 85 Source: Lord Ahune A special drop from the Midsummer Fire Festival boss, this scythe looks amazing. Unlike almost all other transmog items, this staff's natural "frosty" visual aura overrides your weapon's actual enchantment. Even if your weapon has Power Torrent, it will still look icy!
	Grand Scepter of the Nexus-Kings Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Mana-Tombs This vibrant crystalline green staff has a very cool, magic feel, and is a unique model. 14% drop rate.
	Headmaster's Charge Required Level: 40 Source: Scholomance Very distinctive design, perfect for a Warlock. A ridiculously low 2% drop rate. However, it shares a model with The Bringer of Death (Bind on Equip), and the heirloom staff, Dignified Headmaster's Charge, purchasable for 3500 JP, 160 Darkmoon Prize Tickets or 95 Champion's Seals.
	Ironstaff of Regeneration Required Level: 65 Source: Auchenai Crypts The silver and gold on this simple, elegant staff goes well with many outfits. 15% drop rate. Shares a model with Rod of the Ogre Magi (Dire Maul, 2% drop rate) and Severin's Cane (Quest Reward). Other reskins exist, but only share the basic shape, lacking the fine detail on the head.
	Medusoid Staff Required Level: 80 Source: Quest Reward This AWESOME staff is fully animated, and its tentacles writhe and wiggle. Terribly fun. Unfortunately, if you've already done this quest you are almost out of luck, as the only other staff that uses this model is Terestian's Stranglestaff, a raid drop from Karazhan.
	Tower of the Mouldering Corpse Required Level: 80 Source: Forge of Souls This sharp-looking staff screams magic - the blade-like head actually levitates off the tip of the shaft, which looks very cool. Completely unique model. 23% drop rate.
	Staff of Beasts Required Level: 65 Source: Quest Reward Huge, distinctive, awesome staff. Just look at it! Unique model, as the only other staff that looked the same is no longer available.
	Staff of the Redeemer Required Level: 68 Source: Quest Reward This massive crystal staff looks almost like a polearm or axe. Purple and pink, giant crystal - obviously perfect for a Draenei character. Shares a model with the Exodar Life-Staff (Bind on Equip, drops from Doom Lord Kazzak).
	Rod of the Blazing Light Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Magister's Terrace Very nice color contrast, perfect for a Blood Elf caster. 25% drop rate. An all-white version exists, Staff of Divine Infusion (Bind on Equip), and the Warpstaff of Arcanum, below.
	Warpstaff of Arcanum Required Level: 70 Source: Botanica (Normal/Heroic) Nice purple/gold color scheme, very royal looking. 12% drop rate on Normal, 13% on Heroic.
	Serpentcrest Life-Staff Required Level: 68 Source: Steamvault (Normal/Heroic) This strange, aquatic-looking staff looks a little like a Faceless One mixed with Neptulon. Pretty strange model, and it's unique, too. 19% drop rate on Normal, 20% on Heroic.
	Staff of Sinister Claws Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Old Kingdom Scaly, spikey, and mottled, this staff is quite ominous and disturbing-looking. Only non-raid staff to sport this particular appearance. 23% drop rate.
	Sun-Infused Focus Staff Required Level: 70 Source: Magister's Terrace Simple but attractive, this golden staff has a 16% drop rate. Identical to Staff of the Sun (Horde-only Quest Reward). Recolors include Decalcified Elven Spear (Blue, Quest Reward) and Vengeance Staff (Green, Bind on Equip).
	Terokk's Shadowstaff Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Sethekk Halls This enormous, striking staff has a completely unique appearance. 14% drop rate.
	Staff of Trickery Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Violet Hold This wooden staff is a very detailed likeness of a dragon's head. Completely unique appearance. 23% drop rate from final boss in Heroic Violet Hold.
	Unspeakable Secret Required Level: 80 Source: Pit of Saron Spiked and sporting a dizzying color scheme, this staff shares model only with a drop from 25-man Nazzramas. 26% drop rate from Garfrost in Normal Pit of Saron.

Blatant traitors and why we put up with them

2012-01-17T05:13:00.000-08:00

A while back, someone pointed out that my Twitter Klout score (a measure of what you are supposedly "influential" about) listed Transformers as one of my influences, and that I should clearly write about Transformers more to make sure it sticks. Now, I don't really care about Klout, but a challenge to write about Transformers? How can I resist?

However, rather than delve into a Transformers-centric post which would probably appeal to myself and no one else, I'm going to look at one of the central personality concepts presented in Transformers and see how it relates to the Warcraft universe. It's one of my favorite character traits, and it even has a trope named after it: the Starscream.

In some stories the Big Bad casts a shadow over everyone: They might be afraid of him, they might be his minions, or they might be the heroes trying to defeat him.

A certain type of character falls outside this pattern: a villain too ambitious or individualistic or just too stubborn to accept the supremacy of the Big Bad. Instead, this villain actually dreams about overthrowing the guy everyone else fears and taking his place. Sometimes he is a (grudging) servant of the Big Bad; sometimes he is entirely outside the established power structure. Either way, if the Big Bad ever stumbles or shows weakness, the Starscream will be there, ready to pounce.

Depending on the nature of the character, he may be an over-optimistic fool or someone who might actually be able to pull it off. If the character is badass enough, the heroes might be forced to try and stop him from toppling the original villain. Usually fond of playing contrarian to their boss' schemes (deservedly or not), who will normally intimidate/threaten them into kowtowing to their will. It can be hard to justify why the Big Bad keeps them around, but it may most commonly be so the Big Bad has a reason to always keep his guard up (and thus can rest assured that he will never become too complacent).

-paraphrased from tvtropes.org

In Transformers, Starscream (pictured above) is second-in-command of the evil Decepticons. Throughout the series, he repeatedly and openly plots against his leader, Megatron, and makes no secret of his ambitions to overthrow him and seize command of the Decepticons for himself.

What's interesting about their relationship is that Megatron doesn't really mind. Whenever Starscream tries to take over (usually in disastrous fashion), Megatron simply punishes his treacherous lieutenant with some minor abuse or assigns him some menial, humiliating tasks, despite the fact that Starscream had often literally just tried to kill him.

So what happened in the end? Surprise, surprise, in the animated movie, Starscream successfully tosses a battered Megatron out into space and, seconds later, nominates himself as the new Decepticon leader. It really makes Megatron's decision to keep him around seem rather foolish.

Now granted, it's a kid's show, so I probably would have been shocked and traumatized if Megatron had just executed Starscream the first time he tried to rebel. But I was still fascinated by Megatron's bizarre attitude, even as a youngster. Why didn't he just get rid of Starscream, who clearly wasn't learning his lesson or changing his ways? For me, this unexplainable dynamic was the most interesting personality trait in the entire show.

So how does this apply to WoW? Well, the theme of the ally that is absolutely, without-question going to betray you - and why you permit them to hang around - is a fun one. It's one thing to team up with someone you don't trust because of extenuating circumstances, all the while suspecting them to turn on you. We see these uneasy, wary truces all the time. But it's something else entirely to make such an alliance when you KNOW your "ally" will stab you in the back, and furthermore, THEY know that YOU know.

Why would you ever do this? Why would you keep a known traitor around?

Well, there's a few reasons.

Because It Wasn't Actually Obvious

This isn't so much a reason as it is a disclaimer. Some Warcraft traitors seem completely obvious to us now, but in reality, were not actually openly treacherous in-game. Grand Apothecary Putress was creepy as hell, but prior to the Wrathgate he seemed completely loyal to the Forsaken cause. And Archbishop Benedictus? Name aside (Benedictus? Really?) there was absolutely nothing in-game to suggest that this highly regarded and respected priest would switch sides.

Finally, everyone's favorite grump, Fandral Staghelm, was irascible and cantankerous, but he wasn't actually a traitor (at least, not that we knew of). Sure, we find out LATER that he'd been up to all kinds of bad stuff, and he is appropriately punished as a result. But before that? We may not have liked the guy, but we didn't actually know he was a bad guy.

To Groom a Successor

One of the more interesting theories about Megatron/Starscream is that Megatron kept Starscream around because he wanted Starscream to keep trying to overthrow him. After all, in their tyrannical, evil organization, what he was doing was pretty much the epitome of their cause. Ruthless, heartless, treacherous, and power-hungry? That's the perfect resume to lead. And perhaps Megatron believed that eventually, if Starscream was ever smart and/or powerful enough to actually defeat his commander, he deserved to lead.

Pretty philosophical for a group of evil cartoon robots.

In a way, it's very similar to the classic alpha male hierarchy found in barbarian cultures (or wolf packs?), where challenging the leader is not frowned upon, but applauded. In such social settings, who leads? The strongest, because they must be responsible for the welfare of the rest of the clan/pack. And if anyone thinks they are stronger, they are welcome to challenge them for rulership.

We don't see this a great deal in Warcraft, since most factions/races don't have a great deal of inner turmoil/enmity towards their leaders. But it definitely exists. In Tides of Darkness, Orgrim Doomhammer tires of answering annoying questions from one of his subordinates, Rend Blackhand, and asks Rend if he is challenging him for leadership of the Horde.

"But we could have marched around the mountains," Rend pointed out. "A longer route but less difficult."

Doomhammer sneered at that. "Are you afraid of a challenge, then?" Several of the other chieftains laughed, and Rend bristled.

"Of course not!" he snapped, raising his one fist, clearly ready to fight anyone who claimed otherwise. "I am up to the task! I was right behind you the entire climb!" No one dared point out that he had used a rope, while Doomhammer had not. The Blackhands were fearsome warriors and widely respected, another reason Doomhammer allowed them to ask so many questions.

"Then you do wish to challenge?" Doomhammer asked quietly, his voice dropping. Rend backed away quickly, paling as he realized what he had almost said. The Blackhands wanted to lead the Horde, but they would have to challenge and defeat Doomhammer in combat to do so. And they all knew he would kill them, even if they both attacked at once. A part of him kept hoping they would try. Then he could replace them with a more reasonable Black Tooth Grin chieftain. But so far they had always backed down.

-Tides of Darkness

Another memorable example is the relationship between Thrall/Garrosh. While their clashes were never as volatile as Megatron/Starscream (Garrosh never actually hated Thrall or wanted to take command), the son of Hellscream very clearly believed he would make a better Warchief. And though leadership of the Horde was not on the line, Garrosh certainly did not hesitate to step into the arena with Thrall to fight him back during the Wrath of the Lich King launch events.

The dynamic between Thrall and Garrosh continued all throughout Wrath, with Garrosh constantly interrupting neutral meetings, causing pointless fights (in Trial of the Crusader), and in general just being a nuisance and malcontent. We often lamented his very existence/presence, and asked why Thrall even kept him around.

Of course, then Thrall stepped down and gave Garrosh the throne, and while we may not LIKE IT, it finally made sense. Maybe Thrall was putting up with Garrosh's nonsense because he was trying to teach him, to help him mature and grow. While virtually no one agrees with Thrall's judgment, in his eyes Garrosh had grown into the leader the Horde needed - bold, strong, fearless...everything the Horde (well, the orcs, anyway) held in high regard.

To Keep an Eye on Them

Another reason known traitors might be tolerated is because they're simply too dangerous to leave unwatched. After all, why not discourage a subordinate from plotting against you by keeping them right at your side, under your watchful gaze? Maybe you hope to have a positive influence on them, or maybe you just don't trust them out of your sight. And by giving them managerial responsibilities, you can also keep them too busy to plot against you.

Perhaps the most obvious example of this in Warcraft is Magatha Grimtotem. Cairne knew Magatha wanted to be Chieftain. Hell, EVERYONE knew it. And it was always one of the most confusing questions - she wants to dethrone Cairne, she doesn't like him, she's CLEARLY up to nefarious deeds on the sly - so why was she still a prominent authority figure in Thunder Bluff?

Cairne was probably the nicest, most forgiving person on Azeroth, but he was no fool. He knew Magatha had her secret ambitions and schemes, yet still he kept her near. And I don't think it was under the naive hope that she would suddenly change her ways and start marching the Bloodhoof company line.

No, I think the canny Chieftain kept Magatha nearby expressly so he could watch her, and somewhat limit her political moves. After all, despite the heavy suspicion, Magatha never actually did anything openly treacherous, so it's not like Cairne could have justifiably banished her or anything. So instead he did the next best thing - promote her.

Being in a high-ranking public position ensured that Magatha had to maintain a civil face, and at least outwardly pretend to generally support Bloodhoof. (Not to mention keep her busy with day-to-day responsibilities and details.) We can see how much this limited her, in the older pre-Cata quests - on the surface, Magatha was all smiles and warmth, but she was always sending us to go fetch an item here, or go kill a crazy serpent-spirit of vengeance there. She wasn't able to do these things herself, because people would notice, and she'd have to explain - something she would not have been able to do. Clever move, Cairne. Clever.

Of course, such preventative measures only works when the traitor is actually afraid of making her intentions clear. In the Shattering, when Cairne challenges Garrosh to a duel for leadership of the Horde, Magatha finally openly opposes Cairne by supporting Garrosh. When Cairne sees this, he is surprised...but not that much.

Cairne's eyes narrowed as he strained to see at this distance. It was a tauren shaman who had blessed Garrosh’s weapon with words of ritual and sacred oil. That surprised and pained Cairne, who had assumed another orc would perform that rite. It was a female, black-coated...

"Magatha," he breathed. She was a powerful shaman, but so was Beram. While her blessing would help Garrosh, Beram Skychaser's blessing would help Cairne. She had to know that; it was a gesture, nothing more. All she had done was, finally, openly state where her loyalties lay.

Cairne nodded to himself, confident now more than ever of the rightness of his path. This challenge really did need to happen, before more fell under Garrosh's spell. At least Magatha now had shown her true colors. He would have to address the disloyalty; he had no choice now. The Grimtotem would need to be banished from Thunder Bluff, unless they finally chose to swear allegiance to the Horde. It had become a necessity, not a desire.

-The Shattering

Cairne wasn't surprised when Magatha made her move. He knew it had just been a matter of time. No, I think he was actually pleased that she had finally ended her little charade, after all these years, and that he could finally banish her from Thunder Bluff with just cause. (Actually, it's basically exactly what Doomhammer thought in the earlier passage, regarding Rend.)

Of course, he just had to win that duel against Garrosh first. And, well, we know how that turned out. There's a pretty good reason Magatha wasn't afraid of suffering repercussions for her treachery - she knew (or wagered, anyway) that Cairne wouldn't live to dole out punishment. And she was right.

Because You Need Them

The most pragmatic reasons to keep a traitor around? Simple. They're just too damn useful to get rid of.

Megatron may have not have trusted Starscream, but he couldn't get rid of him because Starscream - when he wasn't shooting Megatron in the back - was an extremely valuable soldier. Removing him would have severely weakened the Decepticons, and that was a price that Megatron wasn't willing to pay. I'm sure he would have loved nothing more than to blast Starscream to bits, but as a leader, he knew that he couldn't allow himself the luxury.

When Doomhammer killed Blackhand and seized control of the Horde (an act of treachery in itself, in ways), he was delighted to be able to kill Gul'dan, who he had always hated, and who had caused the death of his close friend, Durotan. But the weaselly warlock managed to convince Doomhammer to spare his life, not out of mercy or any sentimental silliness, but simply because Doomhammer - and the Horde - still needed him.

"I bow to your might, Orgrim Doomhammer," [Gul'dan] managed at last, pronouncing each word clearly and loud enough that all those nearby could hear him. "I acknowledge you as warchief of the Horde, and I pledge myself to you. I will obey you in all things."

Doomhammer grunted. "You have never demonstrated obedience before," he pointed out sharply. "Why should I believe you capable of it now?"

"Because you need me," Gul'dan replied, raising his head to meet the warchief's glare. "You have slain my Shadow Council, yes, and consolidated your power over the Horde. That is as it should be. Blackhand was not strong enough to lead us on his own. You are, and so you have no need of a council." He licked his lips. "But you do need warlocks. You need our magic, for the humans have magic of their own and without us you will fall to their power." He shook his head. "And you have very few warlocks left. Myself, Cho'gall, and a handful of neophytes. I am too useful to kill simply for revenge."

Doomhammer's lips pulled back in a snarl, but he lowered the hammer. For a moment he said nothing, simply glaring at Gul'dan, his gray eyes filled with hate. But finally he nodded.

"What you say is true," he admitted, though the words clearly took enormous self-control to utter. "And I will place the needs of the Horde over my own." He bared his tusks. "I will allow you to live, Gul'dan, you and those of your warlocks who remain. But only as long as you prove useful."

-Tides of Darkness

Now, Doomhammer wasn't stupid. He knew full well that Gul'dan was not truly loyal, or cowed. But what could he do? The Horde needed Gul'dan's sorcery, his warlocks, his Death Knights. And so he allowed Gul'dan to live, though he watched him carefully and with great suspicion. Not closely enough though, as it turns out, since Gul'dan - you guessed it - betrayed him at a crucial moment, choosing to pursue personal power instead of supporting the Horde. Because of Gul'dan's treachery, Doomhammer and the Horde were forced to retreat, despite being on Lordaeron's doorstep and on the verge of total victory. I guess that's what you get when you trust a traitor.

Another example, this time in-game, is a minor quest NPC whose story is delightfully predictable. Anyone who's quested through Mount Hyjal will probably remember Tyrus Blackhorn, an imprisoned satyr who players work with for a short time, before accidentally setting him free. From the moment you meet him, he's wildly suspicious, saying "Don't sicken me by claiming it's my redemption. I do this for my own ends," followed by a sudden unsettling grin.

What a nice fellow. I can't imagine him ever betraying me! But yes, in the year's least surprising turn of events, at the end of this quest chain Blackhorn tricks you into freeing him. What a shocker! However, before this, with his help, you do manage to quell the raging fires that are threatening the entire area. Even when you go tell Matoclaw about Blackhorn's escape, she's not too broken up about it, but more focused on the fact that you managed to extinguish the inferno.

And of course, we can't forget about the well-known "agreement" that existed for many years between Sylvanas and Varimathras, her Dreadlord second-in-command. Though Varimathras was allegedly loyal to the Banshee Queen, I doubt anyone truly believed he was actually faithful and trustworthy. After all, he only joined her ranks because she was about to kill him, so in exchange for mercy he agreed to serve her and hand over information regarding the other Dreadlords. Does this sound like the act of a reliable, stalwart ally?

There's also the minor fact that he's, oh you know, A DEMON.

So why did Sylvanas keep him around? Well, she probably knew she couldn't trust him, but clearly she figured the benefit of having him there was greater than the potential risk. A powerful bodyguard, devious advisor, as well as the provider of untold dark magics - I can definitely understand the appeal.

Was it worth it, even after Varimathras' sudden but inevitable betrayal? Debatable. On the one hand, there was the disastrous coup where Sylvanas lost control of the Undercity to Varimathras, Putress and other traitors, and was forced to ask Thrall for help in retaking her city and quashing the rebellion.

On the other hand, Varimathras and the treacherous Forsaken who followed him did manage to perfect the Scourge plague Sylvanas had desired for so long. And now all of those traitors and turncoats were outed and killed, where as without Varimathras' uprising, they would have remained anonymous and hidden within her ranks. The Banshee Queen arguably came out ahead, when all was said and done.

Speaking of Sylvanas, let's fast-forward ahead to Cataclysm. Once again, she placed her trust in an agent of dubious moral fiber - Lord Godfrey. Knowing how arrogant and dangerous Godfrey was in life, I can't imagine Sylvanas actually believed he was completely loyal, since those raised by the Val'kyr allegedly (and as we see later on, really do) have free will. But he knew the enemy forces/territory, he hated the worgen, and she knew his reappearance was bound to have a shocking/unsettling effect on Gilnean morale. Pros and cons.

And her gamble paid off. He and his cronies WERE very valuable to the Forsaken cause, and in fact, the Forsaken won the war (albeit temporarily) entirely because Godfrey was able to capture Lorna Crowley, the ultimate bargaining chip.

Of course, the drawback to Sylvanas was that Godfrey betrayed and murdered her. But hey, them's the breaks, right?

Actually, let's look at the bigger picture here. To Garrosh, Sylvanas is the lurking traitor who is absolutely going to eventually betray him and/or the Horde. Garrosh CLEARLY does not trust her, and let's be honest - for good reason. Throughout Cataclysm, Sylvanas has very blatantly pursued her own agenda, with little (if any) regard to what the Warchief thinks. She's becoming more and more ruthless, snatching up land at an alarming pace, and she's in charge of a rapidly growing army of new undead soldiers. Yeah, I'd be worried too.

On the other hand, Garrosh can't really DO anything! Like her or not, she's unarguably effective, and he needs her military might at work for the Horde in the Eastern Kingdoms, taking contested territory, pushing back Gilneas and the Stormpike dwarves, etc.

And it's not just those specific regions - the Forsaken are one of the Horde's strongest war resources. The orcs, trolls and tauren might be strong and fearsome, but the Forsaken are organized, disciplined, and perhaps most importantly, deadly. Most races rush onto the battlefield to fight and win. The Forsaken go to kill.

Garrosh may not want to admit it, but with the Horde/Alliance enmity at such an all-time high, the Horde simply cannot afford to lose their undead allies. Oh sure, there's Kor'kron guards placed in Undercity to "watch" her, but really, it would be virtually suicidal to actually sever ties with Sylvanas and her people. So Garrosh is forced to bite his tongue, glower and grumble, and hope that Sylvanas doesn't betray them all...at least, not yet.

* * * * *
So what have we learned? Well, if history is any indication, allowing a known/highly suspected traitor to hang around is a VERY BAD IDEA. Sure, you might reap some short-term benefits, and their particular skills might come in handy. But it's only a matter of time before they make their move. You know it, they know it, EVERYONE knows it. These relationships are destined to end in only one way - with their dagger firmly planted in your back.

And really, would you expect anything else?

Minipost: Rades' classy new look

2012-01-16T10:52:00.000-08:00

Without question, my favorite look for Rades has always been Hunter Tier 10, ever since earning it in Icecrown Citadel. There's a few reasons for this - I think the color and design, especially when combined with the Stone Guard's Herald tabard, epitomizes the Horde look. It was also the first tier set I earned as a member of an actual raiding guild, so there's some sentimental attachment. And finally, the helm has a GIANT NERUBIAN HORN. How do you not love that??

>8<

Even in Cataclysm, I kept wearing the old set, before Transmog was implemented. How? Well, whenever I was hanging around Org, out doing lowbie zones for Loremaster, or basically doing anything except level 85 endgame, I'd throw it on. This made for some interesting seasonal boss fights where I'd forget I was wearing Wrath gear, and go in and wonder why I was doing such terrible DPS to Ahune or Direbrew.

However, one day I was randomly perusing the Mail options on the Auction House (something I do a lot) and happened across a nice-looking mail chestpiece. Intrigued, I bought it and put it aside, and decided to build a transmog set around it. It took a while to get the appropriate pieces, but this weekend I finished it, and Rades FINALLY has a new look.

I like it. It should be quite a contrast from most other players in PuG groups - no huge clunky armor and skulls, instead, just a simple, dignified look. I would have gone with no shoulders at all, but sadly this isn't an option, and these were the least obtrusive ones I could find.

I think my favorite is the eyepatch, though. It's hard to see in the image, but it actually has a little skull on it! Here's the battle.net page with a larger image.

Edit: Found a picture of Rades wearing the eyepatch:

I was going to just have no helm displayed, but then I happened across this unique MAIL eyepatch, and had to have it. It's a quest reward from a long quest line in Blade's Edge, where you work together with Baron Sablemane (actually the Black Dragon Sabellian in disguise) to fight the Gronn. Interestingly, Alliance players team up with Sablemane in the quest finale, while Horde players fight alongside Rexxar.

Here's my new outfit and what pieces were used. Most of the pieces can be found on the AH, though it will take some searching. The gun is a boss drop from Ulduar, but honestly any simple bow or rifle would fit the look fine. I'm actually tempted to just use a basic Light Bow appearance.

Head:
Shoulders:
Back:
Chest:
Shirt:
Wrist:
Hands:
Waist:
Legs:
Feet:
Ranged:

Malefactor's Eyepatch (Quest Reward, Horde/Alliance)
Netherstorm Shoulderguards or Talhide Shoulderguards (BoE)
Icy Cloak (Tailoring BoE), Warmonger's Cloak looks good too (black)
Netherstorm Chestpiece or Talhide Chestpiece (BoE)
Yellow Lumberjack Shirt (Tailoring)
Netherstorm Bracer or Talhide Lined-Bracers (BoE)
Netherstorm Gauntlets or Talhide Lined-Gloves (BoE)
Netherstorm Belt or Talhide Stitched-Belt (BoE)
Netherstorm Legguards or Talhide Lined-Leggings (BoE)
Netherstorm Greaves or Talhide Lined-Boots (BoE)
Rifle of the Platinum Guard (Ulduar, Ignis - but any simple gun/bow would work)

Transmog: Collidus' various eyepatches

2012-01-11T12:56:00.000-08:00

Not my favorite look. I mean, how can the ladies tell when I'm winking at them?
(PS: The answer is always.)

Everyone loves unusual eye-based helms like monacles, goggles or eyepatches. Engineers, of course, have their ensemble of cool-looking goggles, but for those non-engineers out there, the selection of transmoggable eyewear is a little more limited. Some armor types have a few glasses/goggle/patch options, but some - like plate - are pretty hurting.

In fact, there is only ONE plate eyepatch in the game, the Crimson Beholder Eye. It drops from a Burning Crusade level 68 rare spawn, Collidus the Warp-Watcher, who spawns in Shadowmoon Valley.

Collidus' spawn locations.

What's interesting about Collidus is that he only has four drops, each of which is an eyepatch of a different armor type and a random enchantment. They also all look different. So you can head out and kill Collidus (assuming you can find him) and you'll get an eyepatch - it just might not be the right armor type for you to actually use.

Still, they're Bind-on-Equip, so even if it's not the one you want, chances are you can find someone who'd be happy to transmog it. Besides - only plate eyepatch in existence! I MUST HAVE IT.

Here's what the different eyepatches look like. (And thoughts from Fabulor!)

	Cloth Amethyst Beholder Eye A garish combination. Amethyst and silver? Still, a decent choice if the rest of your outfit matches. Coordination is key.
	Leather Emerald Beholder Eye What a marvelous color! The lustrous green goes perfectly with my dazzling eyes. Fabulor approves.
	Mail Fiery Beholder Eye Fiery LIKE MY HEART.
	Plate Crimson Beholder Eye A regal gold and purple combination, suitable for royalty such as myself. Not that you'd know anything about that. Peon.

Minipost: MURGLE

2012-01-09T08:52:00.000-08:00

If you haven't read last week's From Draenor With Love, go check it out first and then come back here.

Yep. Can't say this was a surprise.

Not only that, though - Mittenz also made a macro that emotes giving her target [Murglesnout]. Nooooooooo!

Warcraft novels/short story reading order

2012-01-06T12:33:00.000-08:00

Just get a new e-reader for Christmas and want to start reading the Warcraft novels, but have no idea where to begin? Here's a chronologically sorted list to help you plan your reading strat - all of the Warcraft novels, various short stories, and even a few comic/manga extras.

Note that the War of the Ancients trilogy is NOT first, even though these books take place thousands of years ago, before the Sundering. Why? Because the series actually takes place in "current time." The series is not nearly as enjoyable if you don't already understand certain WoW elements such as the original history of the Orcs, their clashes with the Humans, or even who Rhonin is, for that matter! No, in the Warcraft timeline, this series definitely takes place after Thrall has become Warchief, something that doesn't happen for a while.

As for the rest? There are a few books that have clear places in the timeline, but many are quite unclear when exactly they take place. I've grouped them together in a way that - to me - makes logical sense. If you don't agree with the order, please feel free to say so or ask in comments, and we can discuss! :D (I don't want to put my explanations in the post, as they would contain spoilers.)

The linked titles are the short stories, which are also indicated with a - sign.

Part 1 - War

Rise of the Horde - Christie Golden
The Last Guardian - Jeff Grubb
Tides of Darkness - Aaron Rosenberg
Beyond the Dark Portal - Rosenberg, Golden
Day of the Dragon - Richard A. Knaak

Part 2 - Coming of Age

Lord of the Clans - Golden
Of Blood and Honor - Chris Metzen
- Unbroken - Micky Neilson
- Vol'jin: The Judgment - Brian Kindregan
- Road to Damnation - Evelyn Fredericksen

Part 3 - Peace

Cycle of Hatred - Keith R. A. DeCandido
War of the Ancients trilogy
    The Well of Eternity - Knaak
    The Demon Soul - Knaak
    The Sundering - Knaak
Night of the Dragon - Knaak
- The War Effort
- The War of the Shifting Sands - Micky Neilson
The Sunwell Trilogy (Manga) - Knaak, illustrated by Kim Jae-hwan

Part 3.5 - Varian

World of Warcraft: The Comic, #1-14 - Walter Simonson & Louise Simonson, various artists

Part 4 - Wrath of the Lich King

Arthas: Rise of the Lich King - Golden
Death Knight (Manga) - Dan Jolley, illustrated by Rocio Zucchi
- In the Shadow of the Sun - Sarah Pine
- Garrosh Hellscream: Heart of War - Sarah Pine
- Glory - Evelyn Fredericksen
- Silver Hand, Ebon Blade - Raphael Ahad

Part 5 - Turmoil

Stormrage - Knaak
- Gelbin Mekkatorque: Cut Short - Cameron Dayton
The Shattering - Golden
- The Council of Three Hammers: Fire and Iron - Matt Burns
- Tyrande & Malfurion: Seeds of Faith - Valerie Watrous
- Baine Bloodhoof: As Our Fathers Before Us - Steven Nix
Shaman (Manga) - Paul Benjamin, illustrated by Rocio Zucchi

Part 6 - Cataclysm

- Sylvanas Windrunner: Edge of Night - Dave Kosak
- Genn Greymane: Lord of his Pack - James Waugh
- Gallywix: Trade Secrets of a Trade Prince - Gavin Jurgens-Fyhrie
- Varian Wrynn: Blood of Our Fathers - E. Daniel Arey
Wolfheart - Knaak
Thrall, Twilight of the Aspects - Golden
- Charge of the Aspects - Matt Burns

Minipost: Your very own Goblin nurse

2012-01-02T14:07:00.000-08:00

Ever want your very own Goblin nurse? Well look no further, because personalized medical care on a 2 minute cooldown is just around the corner!

This funny trinket will summon a male Goblin aide who will follow you around for a short time and heal you a few times. Even better, he says some amusing lines out loud for everyone to see, such as:
- You should consider losing some weight.
-Where does it hurt?
-When was your last checkup?
-Turn your head and cough twice.

It's extremely easy to get, too! You get it in Tanaris, so you can just pop over from Uldum or grab it after you're done a Dragon Soul raid. You need to be at least level 44 to do the tiny quest chain.

Head west of Gadgetzan, to Sandsorrow Watch (it's labeled on your map).

A Goblin named Gus Rustflutter will give you a quest, I'm With Scorpid, a simple "kill and fetch X parts" quest. After you complete it, do the the follow-up quest, Gargantapid, and Gus' First Aid Kit is one of the rewards! That's it!

The healing from the trinket doesn't scale, so it's quite worthless except for flavor reasons if you're higher level than intended. However, if you're a tank at proper level, it's actually pretty useful! Not only are trinkets extremely rare at low levels, but this one - a "fire and forget" self-heal - is quite handy while tanking. He'll heal you for 150-175 health three times before disappearing, which in the 40s, is nothing to sneeze at. Macro it to one of your main abilities and enjoy!

Monday Minipost: A Special Christmas Card

2011-12-26T04:11:00.000-08:00

Non-Raid Transmog Weapons: Daggers

2011-12-21T07:10:00.000-08:00

I find it somewhat ironic that only a few of the classes who can use Daggers actually use them for stabbing things. Anyway! There are quite a few interesting looking daggers, some One-Hand, some Main Hand.

And before you ask - Morgion is wearing a plain white dress because I didn't want the small Dagger blades lost against her normal dark leg armor. So it's for visibility's sake.

Non-Raid Daggers
	Bangalash's Claw Required Level: 24 Source: Quest Purple circle dagger in picture. Very unusual, exotic design. Black-bladed version with orange circle variants: Guile of Khoraazi (One-Hand, requires Exalted with Consortium, base price 199g), Hypnotic Blade (Main Hand, Scarlet Monastery, 45% drop rate). Silver blade, yellow circle: Julie's Dagger (One-Hand, Bind on Equip).
	Arachnid Dagger Required Level: 62 Source: Bind on Equip This quietly understated dagger has some nice detailing on it, and isn't outrageously huge. Purple blade, as is Phantom Dagger, another BoE green. The orange-bladed version pictured is Shattering Dagger, a Main Hand BoE.
	Azure Lightblade Required Level: 66 Source: Quest (Horde, Alliance) Main Hand quest reward for killing Durn the Hungerer in Nagrand. Currently the only other way you can obtain this model is from a Molten Core drop.
	Balnazzar's Horn Required Level: 42 Source: Quest Main Hand reward for killing Balnazzar in Stratholme. Surprisingly detailed and colorful model for a low-level item, and is a unique model, too.
	Barman Shanker Required Level: 51 Source: Blackrock Depths A very fun dagger variant. Shares a model with the various Direbrew Shankers, but those are near-impossible to farm, and only available during Brewfest.
	Black Knight's Rondel Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Trial of the Champion Large and blunt-looking, but very distintive. 13% drop rate from the Black Knight. Shares a model with some raid drops, but that's it.
	Blood Weeper Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Forge of Souls 31% drop rate from Devourer of Souls. Only non-raid Dagger that uses this model.
	Ceremonial Warmaul Blood-Blade Required Level: 65 Source: Quest Nice and vicious-looking, and the little red sash on the end is a nice touch. Shares a model with a Molten Core drop, but is otherwise unique.
	Chilled Heart of the Glacier Required Level: 80 Source: Halls of Reflection This unique Main Hand Dagger has a 21% drop rate from the final boss of Normal Halls of Reflection. Would be perfect for a Frost Mage.
	Edge of Oppression Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Magister's Terrace Some nice purple colors and detailing on this Dagger, which has a 25% drop rate. Shares a model/look with Blade of Trapped Knowledge and Ced's Carver, both blue-quality BoEs. Red detailing: Anzac Dagger (One-Hand, Bind on Equip). Yellow detailing: Quest Rewards, Rogue-only (Horde, Alliance)
	Elementium Shank Required Level: 85 Source: Blacksmithing Nice purple highlights in this Dagger, which can be made with Cataclysm databases. Shares a model with the orange-detailed Brainsplinter, which can also be made via Blacksmithing.
	Flameheart Spell Scalpel Required Level: 80 Source: Vendor This sword-sized Main Hand Dagger requires Revered with Kirin Tor, base price 74g. Shares a model with some swords and Keleseth's Blade of Evocation (MH, Utgarde Keep, 31% drop rate), and Netherbreath Spellblade (MH, Horde Quest)
	Traditional Flensing Knife Required Level: 78 Source: Vendors (Various) This very cool sickle is completely unique, and almost never seen. It requires Revered with the Kalu'ak and has a base price of 72g. Big fan of this one!
	The Fleshshaper Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Halls of Stone A Dagger that is a tooth! Kind of unusual. 20% drop rate, white tooth in the picture. The black tooth is Skoll's Fang, a guaranteed Bind on Equip drop from the rare spawn Skoll in Storm Peaks.
	Heartshiver Required Level: 80 Source: Forge of Souls White/green blade in the picture, 23% drop rate. Quite ornate and detailed. Purple recolor is Krick's Beetle Stabber from Pit of Saron, which has a 31% drop rate.
	Hungering Spineripper Required Level: 70 Source: Arcatraz (Normal and Heroic) This savage model is completely unique, and has a 19% drop rate on both Normal and Heroic.
	Illidari-Bane Mageblade Required Level: 67 Source: Quest Purple crystal and massive (for a Dagger), this Main Hand weapon also has an ice-blue One-Hand variant, Illidari-Bane Dagger. Sadly, these Daggers are quest rewards from the same quest, so you can only ever get one or the other. (The purple model is also available as a sword.)
	Modgud's Blade Required Level: 83 Source: Grim Batol 29% drop rate. This unusual forked Dagger shares a model only with...itself. Or rather, the Heroic version of itself, which drops on - obviously - Heroic mode, at a 20% drop rate. The Heroic version is blue instead of yellow.
	Blade of Nadox Required Level: 73 Source: Old Kingdom This creepy-looking Dagger has a 33% drop rate and shares a model only with a raid drop out of Ahn'Qiraj.
	Namlak's Supernumerary Sticker Required Level: 80 Source: Bind on Equip (Yellow blade) This can be found on the AH every now and then, and usually for reasonable prices. It shares a model with a black-bladed recolor, Unsharpened Ice Razor, which is random Bind-on-Pickup trash drop out of the ICC 5-man Heroics.
	Neurosurgeon's Tool Required Level: 32 Source: Quest (Horde) There are quite a few Axes that use this cleaver model, but this is the only Dagger that uses it. It is a Horde quest reward.
	Torturing Poker Required Level: 29 Source: Scarlet Monastery A red-hot poker! Very cool and full of flavor. 46% drop rate, first boss in SM: Graveyard, so very easily farmed. Has a twin, Flarethorn, which drops from Blackrock Depths at a 24% drop rate. (Just farm it from Scarlet Monastery, seriously.)
	Potentate's Letter Opener Required Level: 80 Source: Bind on Equip This giant blade is very noteworthy in that it shares its design with some One-Hand Swords, but no other Daggers. Main Hand.
	Quicksilver Blade Required Level: 81 Source: Stonecore This strange, green-spiked blade has a 20% drop rate and shares its model with the Heroic version of itself (Yellow spikes, 19% drop rate), Laquered Lung-Leak Longknife (Blue spikes, Quest reward), and Throat Slasher, an Off Hand version (Green spikes, 950 JP).
	Dagger of Restless Nights Required Level: 85 Source: Vendors (Horde, Alliance) This mean-looking military blade (Red spikes in picture) is purchasable from your faction's respective Tol Barad quartermasters, requiring Revered reputation and costing 85 Tol Barad Commendations. Shares a model with Scaleslicer (Green spikes, Bind on Equip), though it will be hard to find.
	Runed Dagger of Solace Required Level: 70 Source: The Botanica (Normal and Heroic) Rough-edged and looks like it was made from flint or obsidian. Main Hand, 21% drop rate on Normal, 22% on Heroic. A version with blue/purple runes, Runesong Dagger, can be obtained from Shattered Halls (Normal and Heroic, 19% drop rate / 18% drop rate). It is also Main Hand.
	Searing Sunblade Required Level: 70 Source: Vendor Off Hand. Shares a model only with a raid drop from Karazhan and some PVP weapons. Costs 260 JP.
	Blade of Serration Required Level: 70 Source: Vendors (Various) One-Hand, red gem/yellow metal in picture. Costs 546 JP. Recolor available, Scryer's Blade of Focus (Main Hand, blue gem, silver metal). It is purchasable in Shattrath for 780 JP.
	Spectral Kris Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Trial of the Champion Main Hand, 14% drop rate. Purple Dagger in picture. Two Alliance variants exist: Dagger of Lunar Purity (Main Hand, same purple model, costs 25 Champion's Seals), and Dagger of the Rising Moon (One-Hand, red/black in picture, costs 25 Champion's Seals).
	Spinal Destroyer Required Level: 80 Source: Vendors (Various) An awesome-looking, Horde-only, unique model Dagger. PERFECT for a Forsaken. Costs 25 Champion's Seals at the Argent Tournament.
	The Stalker's Fangs Required Level: 63 Source: Underbog This alien-looking Dagger is very unusual and distinct. One-Hand, 19% drop rate. Shares a model with a drop from Ahn'Qiraj, and with Vileblade of the Betrayer (One-Hand, Heroic Arcatraz, 16% drop rate).
	Hardened Stone Shard Required Level: 62 Source: Vendor This strange One-Hand stone blade requires Revered with Sporeggar and costs 45 Glowcaps. Shares a model with Destructo-Blade, a Main Hand green Bind on Equip.
	Surgeon's Needle Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Pit of Saron Main Hand, 30% drop rate. Very detailed design, and a unique model!
	Terror Flame Dagger Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Hellfire Ramparts One-Hand, 17% drop rate. Kinda garish colors, but maybe that's what you're after. Only other Dagger with this model is a raid drop from Blackwing Lair.
	Timeslicer Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Escape from Durnholde Awesome cosmic look. One-Hand, 16% drop rate. Shares a model with Jaded Crystal Dagger (Main Hand, Heroic Magister's Terrace, 25% drop rate).
	Titansteel Shanker Required Level: 80 Source: Blacksmithing (Brown blade in picture) One-Hand, mats aren't super expensive. Green variant exists: Titansteel Spellblade (Main Hand, Blacksmithing) and Scalpel of the Royal Apothecary (Main Hand, Horde-only, costs 25 Champion's Seals at the Argent Tournament).
	Twinblade of Mastery Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Mana-Tombs One-Hand, really weird looking, and unique! Has a 16% drop rate.
	Twinblade of the Hakkari Required Level: 85 Source: Zul'Gurub Enormous Dagger that is as large as some swords. 17% drop rate. Shares a model with an Off-Hand variant, confusingly named the same thing, Twinblade of the Hakkari, which rops off the same boss at a 17% drop rate.
	Voodoo Hexblade Required Level: 85 Source: Zul'Aman Main Hand, unique model, 24% drop rate from the chest you get by saving three prisoners.
	Warp Splinter's Thorn Required Level: 70 Source: The Botanica (Normal and Heroic) One-Hand, 14% drop rate on both Normal and Heroic. Unique model. Looks like a chunk of bark or plant, with runes on it. Pretty cool.
	Whispering Blade of Slaying Required Level: 70 Source: Shadow Labyrinth (Normal and Heroic) This bizarre One-Hand Dagger drops from Murmur at a 14% drop rate. It shares its model only with a drop out of Karazhan.
	Windwalker Blade Required Level: 83 Source: Grim Batol This jagged, golden One-Hand Dagger has an 18% drop rate. It shares its model with a Heroic version of itself (18% drop rate), and Lhakaz's Swiftblade (One-Hand, Bind-on-Equip).

Blizzard 2011 Fiction Entry: Heart of Dust

2011-12-20T12:03:00.000-08:00

This was my entry for the 2011 Writing Contest. Ever since I first came across this character, I wanted to expand on her story, either through a Letter, tinfoil hat, or other writing. Writing actual fiction was not what I intended, as I don't typically do this, but it was fun to do! And including other characters or little references was basically icing on the cake.

I wasn't one of the winners this year, but I'm still very glad I participated - like NaNo, it's one of those things that if you successfully finish/enter at all, you win automatically on some level. And HUGE CONGRATS to Catulla for placing as a Runner-Up, and Celine for placing as an Honorable Mention! :D

(Also...look for the mention of the word "Sha" here, meaning light. I submitted this story only a week or so before Blizzcon and the Mists of Pandaria "Sha" announcement, which is why it was so fresh in my mind, and why I freaked out about it. ;D)

Heart of Dust

The girl gasped and jerked awake. Dazed and disoriented, she tugged herself upright and looked around.

A heavy, impenetrable darkness surrounded her, a world of deepest night. She looked down at herself, spread her fingers before her eyes. Nothing.

She gagged and coughed. Her mouth felt like a campfire dwindled to ash. Grimacing, she licked vainly at leathery lips and rolled over, blind and groggy. A splitting pain in her head made her wince, but she clenched her teeth and rose to her feet.

Awkwardly, the girl began to explore her surroundings, numb hands stretched tentatively before her. What she felt was not the soft linens of her bed, but rather coarse wood, splintered and moist. Her nose crinkled at the sickly scent of mildew.

The girl shivered nervously. Her skin felt cold and clammy, and her entire body felt sluggish. She didn't know if it was from the chill in the air or from some other, unknown malady.

She continued her blind search, hoping to reveal a lantern or lamp, but her efforts revealed only a cool stone floor and mounds of loose dirt beneath her feet. Her skin crawled as she wondered what lurked in the darkness, watching and waiting.

Panic and claustrophobia began clawing their way up her throat, choking her. Meanwhile, the pounding in her head continued to beat its staccato rhythm upon her brow.

The girl took a deep breath, ignoring the staleness of the air that flooded her lungs. She could manage this. She just had to remain calm and deal with her problems one at a time.

She closed her eyes and uttered the long-memorized words to a simple healing prayer, calling upon the Light to soothe her weary nerves and alleviate her pain. It was one of the earliest spells she had learned, back when she was but a child. The unexpected recollection made her smile, and she waited for the Light's gentle touch.

Instead, a burst of searing pain exploded in her brain, hurling her to her knees. She writhed and gasped as it ran down her spine, raking and clawing. The pain coursed through her limbs and clenched its terrible grip around her heart. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Helpless, muscles burning from her unseen assailant's assault, she crumpled to the floor. No cry escaped her lips; she had no breath to spend.

Frightened, alone and paralyzed with agony, Lilian Voss whimpered into the dirt and waited for death.

* * * * *
The Cathedral had never looked so magnificent. Crimson banners hung proudly unfurled, and hundreds of blazing candles bathed the grand hall in a warm, soothing glow. Dozens of crusaders and priests mingled within, their scarlet cloaks and surcoats blending together in a sea of holy blood and valor.

"Wow!" breathed Lilian, peeking in from outside, where she and the rest of the initiates were waiting. She ducked back from the massive oaken doors and looked around for "Uncle" Doan, who would surely lecture her about proper decorum and improper behavior if he caught her.

Fortunately, the old mage was nowhere in sight. Lilian shoved the heavy door shut - an act which took all of the young girl's strength - then skipped merrily down the stairs. Her best friend was waiting for her on the lawn, doing his best to look stern and failing miserably.

"You're not s'posed to DO that!" Gebler hissed. "Arcanist Doan said this is a big day, and they said we need to wait here and be quiet!" The boy emphasized his words with a sulky frown.

Lilian rolled her eyes and pursed her lips in an exaggerated mockery of her friend's dour expression. "A big day! A big day!" she harrumphed, lowering her voice to sound like their dreary chaperone.

Gebler's mouth twitched, and the two children were soon giggling helplessly. A few of the older initiates glared at them, which only made them laugh harder.

"I'm sorry, Gebler," said Lilian brightly, brushing a rogue crease out of her friend's new tabard. "It's just so boring out here!"

She took a moment and peered down at her own outfit, marveling at the pristine white silk and bold crest emblazoned on her chest. That morning, the Grand Crusader had given each initiate a special gift - a brand new tabard, marked with the Crusade's famous symbol. It was the first time any of the children had been permitted to wear the Scarlet Flame.

Lilian had squealed with delight, and had eagerly jammed the tabard over her head in such haste that her head and arms had gotten hopelessly entangled. It had taken both Gebler and an exasperated Doan to free her from her prison.

"You dummy," Gebler had said to her afterward. "It's just a tabard. It's not like we got swords or armor!"

Lilian's reply had been a punch in the arm and a firmly extended tongue. Gebler didn't really understand. None of the other children did. After all, none of their fathers was the High Priest. They didn't spend hours each night being quizzed and tutored about the evil Scourge, the Holy Light, and the constant battle between good and evil.

"When can I help you, Daddy?" she asked, night after night. "I want to help you fight the monsters. I want to be one of the good people who fight evil with you!"

"When you are ready, child," her father always replied, before pulling up her covers and blowing out the lamp. "When you are ready, we will both wear the Scarlet Flame and vanquish the evil together. This I swear."

Finally, that day had come.

Lilian mopped a hand across her brow and wiped her palms on her breeches. Overhead, the sun blazed down upon the initiates without mercy. She hoped the Grand Crusader would be ready for them soon. Beside her, Gebler surrendered to the heat and reclined on the lawn. Lilian had glared and prodded him with her shoe, but then saw that most of the other initiates had done the same.

Lilian remained standing, alert and awake. She was too excited to sit still, and it was so hot, she thought she might fall asleep if she were to lie down. Instead, she marched in place and stretched her arms, and tried to imagine what kind of brave things she and her father would soon be doing.

Maybe they would give her a big hammer to hit the undead with? She inspected her thin arms critically and told herself she would have to get stronger. Those hammers were probably very heavy.

Then again, perhaps she would end up in the clergy like her father, using the Light to burn her enemies to cinders. She grinned at the thought, and decided this would also be an acceptable path.

Lilian was dreamily imagining a glorious battle against a sea of growling Scourge, battling alongside Gebler, her father and the Grand Crusader, when she realized with a start that the Cathedral's doors had swung open. She kicked Gebler hurriedly as she snapped to attention.

A lone knight stood at the door, his bright colors a vibrant splash against the ancient stone walls. He perused the sea of initiates and, spotting Doan, gave a respectful salute. The aged arcanist (who looked just as uncomfortable as his bleating wards) bustled about the courtyard and herded the initiates inside.

It was blessedly cool inside the Cathedral, and Lilian let out an enormous sigh of relief and closed her eyes in delight. Her shirt and tabard were sticky with perspiration and her hair lay limply plastered to her skull, but by that point she didn't care.

Gebler poked her in the side, abruptly interrupting her reverie. She turned, glaring, and was about to poke him back when she saw the serious, nervous look on his face. She quickly straightened and followed his gaze. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight.

Countless members of the Crusade lined each side of the Grand Hall, standing shoulder to shoulder, facing inwards. Dressed in full battle regalia, the crusaders were an awe-inspiring sight. Lilian started as the huge doors swung shut behind her with a thunderous crash.

To her left, the Crusade's knights stood like statues, powerful and indomitable. Their gleaming plate mail shone like rubies, and they clutched giant swords and hammers nearly twice her height.

To her right stood the Crusade's priests and mages, who looked no less majestic in their traditional scarlet robes. She peered down the line, looking for her father, but it was too dark to make out any faces beneath their lifted hoods. She knew he was there somewhere, though, watching her.

A regal carpet ran like a river of blood down the center of the Cathedral, leading to a small landing. Atop the steps loomed Grand Crusader Dathrohan, the most honored member of the Crusade. He towered over the room, his presence both comforting and terrifying. Behind him lay an ancient, massive bier carved from marble. It was draped with banners and thick tapestries, proud records of the Crusade's gallant cause.

The candles flickered, washing the Cathedral in crimson hues. Slowly, deliberately, the Grand Crusader spoke.

"Honored members of the Scarlet Crusade, we gather here today for a most important duty," he said, his baritone voice rumbling throughout the Cathedral. "Our cause is just, our will is strong. But though the blessed Light favors our mission, we are but mortal beings. When one of our number falls in battle, he falls forever."

Dathrohan paced slowly across the landing, looking out at his silent audience. "But we are pure of heart, and pure of blood. Our children are brave, and will take up the blade as it falls from our tired hands, until the foul disease infecting our land has been purged and eradicated!"

A deafening cheer erupted from the galleries. Dathrohan raised a gauntleted fist skyward. "For the Light!" he bellowed. As the cheers continued, the Grand Crusader swept his gaze over the initiates. Though his eyes were kind, they were also stern. They pierced each initiate, saw into their souls, judging their commitment and worthiness. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied. Lilian let out a sigh of relief.

The Grand Crusader unsheathed his sword, the blade rasping softly as it cleared the scabbard. He tapped it lightly on the bier, sending a clear, crystalline note ringing throughout the hall. A solemn hush fell over the crowd.

"Initiates! You have trained since you were but babes, learning our proud history and studying our ideals. And now, the time has come for you to leave your childhood behind...it is time for you to become a full-fledged member of our sacred Brotherhood!"

He stepped back and placed his sword gently down upon the altar. He unrolled a large scroll and began reading.

"Abbendis, Lynnia. Daughter of High General Markus Abbendis. You are called. Step forward."

A girl Lilian's age stepped onto the pristine carpet, and marched proudly down the hall. As they had been taught, she ascended the rostrum and knelt before the bier, head bowed in reverence. The Grand Crusader placed a small golden brazier upon the altar, and poured a silvery powder into the bowl. A small flame materialized, barely larger than a candle's flame, but Lilian knew it was much more.

She watched with pride as her fellow students were called forth, one by one, and underwent the ritual. She grinned as Gebler strode down the hall, and clasped her hands in shared triumph as the Grand Crusader welcomed her friend into the Crusade's ranks.

Finally, after nearly an hour of watching her peers embrace their destinies, it was her turn.

"Voss, Lilian, daughter of High Priest Benedictus Voss. You are called. Step forward."

Lilian took a deep breath and stepped onto the carpet, acutely aware of the dozens of eyes watching her every move. Her feet wanted to sprint down the hall, but she forced herself to remain calm, though her heart was hammering against her chest.

Carefully, she climbed the steps, petrified of tripping and ruining the moment. That crisis averted, she knelt before the Grand Crusader and awaited the words that would change her life forever.

Dathrohan lit the brazier and gestured for her to look into the flame. She lifted her head obediently and stared, determined to find whatever the Grand Crusader wanted her to find. Beyond the bier, Dathrohan's shadows danced wildly across the walls, trapped and caught by the flickering light.

Lilian concentrated with all her being, and stared intently at the small flame. It was mesmerizing...and comforting. She felt a strange warmth seep into her, setting her soul ablaze with righteous purpose. She gasped softly. Her father had described this feeling to her, many times, but she had never truly understood the rapture on his face. Until now.

"Lilian Voss, do you solemnly swear to commit your life and soul to our noble cause? To battle the undead blight until the end of your days, and serve the Light, a divine weapon of justice?"

Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She turned and stared boldly at the Grand Crusader, flames flickering in her eyes. Flames and fervor.

"I swear, my lord. For the Light!"

The Grand Crusader smiled down at her, and extended a gauntleted hand. "Then arise, Lilian Voss, and welcome to the ranks of the Scarlet Crusade. You're one of us now."

* * * * *
Muscles aching, Lilian pulled herself weakly to her hands and knees. What had happened to her? It was bad enough that she seemed to be trapped or buried alive, but to also be deprived of the Light...it was her worst fear, given form. Her mind reeled as she imagined the raw, jagged emptiness in her life if the Light would no longer answer her call.

She shook her head violently and thrust the thought aside. There had to be an explanation. Once she got back to the Monastery, surely one of the scholars or magi would know how to help her.

She made her way over to a wall, and began following it, taking slow, careful steps so she didn't trip over anything else. Her hands traced along the stone, then suddenly plunged into a deep recess. She explored the area and discovered it was some sort of hollowed-out shelf carved into the wall, a few feet off the ground. The recess was empty, though her probing fingers slid into a sticky, oily substance, which she quickly scraped off on the wall.

Lilian pondered the opening, then realized with dread what it might be. She placed her hands back on the wall, but ran them upwards, reaching above her head. Sure enough, her fingers found another shelf, higher off the ground. She stretched her hand up and reached inside, and felt the rough grain of a large wooden object within.

She withdrew her hand in disbelief. She knew what the object was.

It was a coffin.

By the Light. She was trapped in a tomb! The sweet, cloying smells, the loose dirt and rubble... Lilian gagged in shock and threw herself back against the wall, staring wildly into the darkness. She was likely surrounded by corpses, and could not help but imagine them rising from their caskets, slowly advancing towards her, unseen...

Discipline, Lilian scolded herself. If there were Scourge down here, you would hear their rotted feet dragging through the dirt, and you would hear their awful moans. She froze, listening intently, but the tomb remained still and silent.

She leaned against the wall and considered the implications of her discovery. Someone had tossed her unconscious body down here amidst the dead, but why?

Grimly, she realized that the Brotherhood would never treat one of their own with such disrespect. Fallen champions of the Crusade were entombed with honor in the Monastery's sacred crypts, or if the death occurred in the field, far from home, they were cremated, their ashes sealed in sanctified urns until they could be properly laid to rest. No Crusader would ever unceremoniously dump their brethren into a putrid pit in the ground.

Which meant she hadn't been left down there by the Crusade...

Lilian concentrated, trying to remember. She heard the clash of blades, the sound of the Light sizzling into rotted flesh, but the memories were vague and indistinct. They could have been a week old, or a year. She couldn't tell.

Her musings were cut short by a muffled thumping coming from above. Someone (or something) was approaching. Quickly, Lilian combed the ground and found a long plank of wood. It was no sword, but it was better than nothing. She hefted it to her shoulder and followed the sound over to the wall.

The footsteps descended and stopped, and Lilian heard the metallic jingle of a key fumbling at a lock. She crept to the side, so that whatever entered would be facing away and might not notice her. Pressing herself into the stone, she held herself perfectly still and waited.

A jagged creak filled the room, followed by a blinding shaft of light that scorched her eyes. Lilian flinched and looked away, furiously willing her eyes to adjust. After a few seconds, she cautiously cracked an eyelid.

A hunched figure had shuffled into the room, holding a lantern in wasted fingers. The lantern's light sputtered, giving the tomb a ghastly, flickering appearance. Lilian winced as she saw her prison for the first time. Dozens of bodies lay scattered on the ground, men and women, humans and elves, all in various states of decay. Off to the side, a pile of discarded, shattered coffins had been roughly shoved against the wall.

Lilian wanted to retch, but the sickness was replaced with anger as she looked at the figure. Ragged hair hung in clumps from its scalp, and sickly skin was stretched taut across its face. It wore tattered scraps of what used to be a robe, but it was so filthy Lilian couldn't begin to guess its color or design. Patches of skin were entirely missing from its torso, and she could make out broken ribs jutting obscenely through putrefied flesh.

Scourge.

Her lip curled in disgust. The evil creature had come to desecrate the bodies interred within the tomb! Grimly, she realized why the coffins had been emptied, their contents deposited cruelly on the bare ground. That's why she had been locked in the tomb - they thought she was dead. She shuddered. Light only knew what atrocities these monsters committed upon the dead...

The undead had limped over to the pile of bodies and stood over them, one withered hand stroking its chin as if deep in thought. Not Scourge...Forsaken, Lilian realized, though there was little difference in her mind. An undead abomination was an undead abomination, after all. They were monsters, and nothing more.

* * * * *
The High Priest stared blankly at his daughter. "What did you just say, Lilian?" he demanded, aghast.

The girl took a step back, surprised. "I, I just wondered...those undead people, the Forsaken, that live over in the old castle...are they really like the Scourge? Didn't you say they can talk and think and do things normal people can do?"

Benedictus frowned and set down his quill. "You misunderstand, child. They can communicate and speak, yes, but they are not like us. They are simply beasts that can bark and yelp in unison, much like a pack of wolves can move as one to surround their prey." He sighed, seeing the confusion in her eyes. "It is true, these 'Forsaken' do possess a crude, bestial intelligence, unlike the Scourge that mindlessly roam the land. But do not make the mistake of thinking that intelligence implies humanity, Lilian! Scourge or Forsaken, both will rip you to pieces and devour your bones, simply because you live. The only difference is that the Forsaken will be laughing while they do it."

"But they can talk, they can think!" protested the youngster. "We should talk to them, maybe we could work together, or leave each other alone, or something!"

"Ware your words," growled Benedictus. "You know our stance toward the undead, Scourge or otherwise. They are deviants who walk outside the Light! There can be no mercy for monsters, and it's time you realized this, Lilian!"

"No! It's stupid!" she yelled, fists clenched. "I read the books in the library! They didn't ask to be turned into monsters, the Lich King did it to them! He's the evil one! They're probably just really sad and want to live in peace! Maybe they just need some friends!"

The High Priest surged to his feet, knocking over his chair with a crash. Lilian jumped and flinched, but stood her ground. "Child, you go too far! Your naive curiosity I can understand, even expect, but to hear such treacherous words from my own blood! You have shamed me today, daughter. You must be disciplined."

The fight, and the blood, drained from Lilian's face. "But Daddy, I -"

"But NOTHING!" he roared. He reached forward and slapped his daughter furiously across the cheek, knocking her to the floor. He seized her sleeve and dragged her, crying, into the hall. "Vishas!" he bellowed, his cry echoing throughout the quiet halls. "Vishas, attend me!" After a few minutes, a slender man in red leather jogged up, out of breath.

"What is it, High Priest?" he wheezed, glancing casually at the whimpering girl at his feet. "One of the inquisitors told me you needed me. Is anything wrong?"

"Indeed. My daughter here has been having impure thoughts regarding the undead," said Benedictus, dragging Lilian forward and depositing her on the floor in front of him. "She is but a child...she means no harm, but these blasphemous thoughts must be eradicated."

"I agree completely, High Priest," said Vishas, a glint in his beady eyes. "Leave it to me." He crouched down so his face was level with Lilian's, who recoiled in fright. She didn't like the hungry look on his face, or the way his fingers twitched towards her. "How long should your daughter and I...talk, about her concerns?"

"As long as it takes, Vishas. May the Light guide your hand."

"Daddy, no! I'm sorry, please, I was wrong," sobbed Lilian, clutching at her father's robes, eyes wide. "Please don't let him take me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Benedictus stared down at her, his face resolute and hard, as if carved from stone. Then, gently, he knelt and cupped her bruised cheek in his palm. "Lilian, my daughter. I love you and wish only the best for you. Some day, you will understand...that this is for your own good." He dropped his hand and nodded at Vishas, who plucked the screaming girl up under his arm and strolled off.

"Oh, Vishas, one more thing," called the High Priest before they disappeared from sight. "She is young, with a full life before her. No scars."

* * * * *
The loathsome Forsaken seemed completely preoccupied with the bodies in front of it, so Lilian padded closer, moving carefully over the debris-littered floor. Probably deciding which one to eat first, she guessed. Lilian raised the board and swung it two-handed at the creature's skull, which crumpled under the heavy blow with a satisfying, meaty crunch.

Dropping the weapon, she lunged forward, deftly scooping up the lantern before it hit the floor. Holding it above the twitching corpse, Lilian shuddered. That was the problem with the undead. You never knew when they were actually dead. She stomped the broken skull under her boot until the body lay still.

The Forsaken had not carried any weapons, so she grabbed the ichor-stained board and crept to the door, eager to leave. The brief exertion had been surprisingly tiring, and pangs of hunger stabbed her gut. She wondered how long it had been since she'd eaten anything.

Beyond the door, crumbling stone stairs spiraled upward, dimly illuminated by trickles of moonlight. Lilian could hear more voices from up above, some male, some female, but couldn't make out their words. She prowled slowly up the stairs, board raised, ready to strike.

Rounding a corner, Lilian caught sight of the open sky and started to rush forward, then caught herself. Discipline, she reminded herself, lowering herself to her belly. Slowly, she crawled up the remaining steps, not wanting to emerge into a Forsaken ambush.

Lilian peeked over the top step and groaned in dismay. She was in a pine-filled glade, surrounded by steep hills, and she was surrounded by the undead.

A Forsaken soldier stood a few yards away, while another perched next to him on a rotted stump. In the distance, Lilian could make out the ugly, twisted silhouette of Forsaken architecture. One of their towns, or maybe just a camp? She wasn't sure.

A horde of mindless Scourge littered the field between her and the buildings, milling about aimlessly and bumping into each other. Rows of graves stretched across the ground nearby, many alarmingly empty.

Lilian's reconnaissance was interrupted as a pale, glowing figure descended from the sky. She ducked back into the stairwell, but the figure didn't seem to have noticed her. It looked like a human woman, except it had translucent white skin and large feathered wings. It wore intricate, rune-covered armor, adorned with skulls and cruel spikes.

Lilian had vaguely heard of such beings, though she had never seen one herself. They were Val'kyr, undead warrior women of the barbarians that lived in Northrend...and servants to the Lich King. What was one doing here?

Dread flooded her heart as the Val'kyr hovered in front of an unsullied grave. "No...they can't be..." she whispered to herself, hoping she was wrong.

She wasn't.

The winged undead shouted words in a guttural language, and her hands began crackling with magical energy. She gestured at the grave before her, and dead, decayed fingers burst from the soil and began clawing at the dirt. In moments, a corpse stood before the Val'kyr, looking quite disheveled and confused, but undoubtedly "alive".

Lilian clenched the board, digging her fingers into the moldy wood. She had to get back to the Monastery. Her father needed to know that the war against the undead had just gotten a lot trickier.

The Val'kyr had moved on to another grave, and the two Forsaken were addressing their new brother. Lilian stole out from the tomb, making her way over to one of the large pines that littered the glade. She estimated that she could sneak her way past, using the trees for cover, as long as the Forsaken were focused on their unholy rituals.

She slid around the trunk and slammed head-first into an armored, mailed chest. Startled, she toppled over backward, losing her grip on the board. A huge male Forsaken holding a sword and shield towered over her, looking down at her. She scrabbled for her weapon, trying to bring it to bear before the creature attacked.

To her surprise, he did nothing of the sort, simply stared at her curiously. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Get away from me, abomination!" Lilian spat, clutching her feeble weapon and backing away cautiously. The undead's sword appeared dented and rusty, but it would be more than a match for her makeshift club.

He gave her a blank, puzzled look. "I'm not an abomination. I'm simply undead. I just want to speak with you."

Lilian snorted, and kept the board raised defensively. A trick, surely. "The undead are a taint upon Azeroth!" she sneered. "Every one of you creatures deserves to be destroyed." This undead seemed particularly dim-witted, and she guessed that if she could keep him talking, she might be able to slip under his guard and escape.

"Don't be like that," he said in a friendly tone, something Lilian never thought she would hear. "I'm not your enemy. My name is Darnell." He sheathed his sword and extended his hand.

Now! Lilian smacked his hand away and dove underneath his shield, rolling smoothly to her feet. She started to sprint away into the woods when Darnell spoke again, his words stopping her dead in her tracks.

"You do realize that you are undead yourself, don't you?"

She whipped around, eyes wide. Darnell still stood by the pine, unmoving. He made no move to draw his sword or approach.

Lilian laughed. For a miserable undead, this Darnell was clever. His words had caught her completely off-guard.

"A nice try, monster!" she called, mockingly saluting him with her board. "I must admit, your lie surprised me, but I would rather die than become one of you wretches. The Light would never let that happen to me."

Darnell didn't speak. He simply watched her, a pitying expression on his scarred face.

A cold chill ran through Lilian's heart. Slowly, she held a trembling hand up to her eyes. The flesh was ashen, her skin shriveled and taut against her bones.

I'm sick and dehydrated, she thought frantically. And who knows how long I was in that damned tomb? This is just a trick meant to make me drop my guard.

She snarled and took a step towards Darnell, who didn't move. "You're lying! The Light will protect me! My father will protect me!"

Darnell lifted his empty sword hand, and Lilian's eyes narrowed. But the Forsaken simply extended a bony finger, pointing at her side.

It's a trick, don't look, she screamed at herself. Do not look!

But she couldn't help herself.

A low moan escaped her lips, and the board fell unnoticed from her grasp. A gaping hole yawned in her side, just beneath her ribcage. The edges of the vicious wound were ragged and torn, thickly crusted with dried blood. Her tabard, once so beautiful and pure, was nearly black with gore.

An axe, or possibly a spear, said her brain clinically, even as her shaking fingers confirmed the awful sight. Her hands dropped limply to her side. She was an experienced fighter and had seen countless wounds like this before. She knew it was a fatal injury. But if that was true...

She slumped to her knees. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. This had to be a dream...no, a nightmare. Surely her father would wake her soon, telling her that it was time for their morning prayers to the Light.

The Light...the Light had burned her! It wasn't been sickness or a Forsaken curse. It was the Light rejecting her.

And the Forsaken had entombed her with the dead, not because they hadn't realized she was still alive, but because...

Numb, Lilian didn't stir as Darnell slowly walked over to stand before her. It wasn't until he placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder that she recoiled in terror, screaming.

"Noooo! Get away from me, you monster!" she wailed, eyes clenched shut. "Don't look at me! I'm hideous! I CAN'T be undead! Not me! Not me..."

"You're not hideous," said Darnell gently, digging in his pockets. "Here, look in this mirror," he said as he handed her a small, pitted piece of glass. "See for yourself."

Lilian stared into the polished glass. A monstrosity stared back. Her hair, once the color of burnished gold, had turned a sickly green. Hideous scars crossed her face, deep gouges that had never healed, the jagged flesh still torn and raw. The skin on her jaw was peeling away, and she could see bone protruding through. And her eyes were little more than sunken pits, glowing an unholy, terrible icy blue.

She looked up at Darnell, unable to speak.

"You see?" said the big Forsaken cheerily. "You're one of us now."

* * * * *
Lilian threw herself onto the bench, gasping for breath, her arms trembling. Of all her training routines, the martial exercises were her favorite. Just herself and a sword, practicing her strikes on a target dummy, or sparring against one of her peers. She enjoyed the exertion, and secretly, she enjoyed besting the brash, overconfident crusaders who challenged her, chuckling at the sight of her slender frame.

Most of all, however, she enjoyed the company. Her other lessons were all private, individual endeavors, due to her "special" status. Woodlore and archery with Loksey. Stealth and subterfuge with Vishas. And of course, religion and history with her father.

But worst of all were her sorcery lessons with Doan. Lilian was, at best, an embarrassing mage, but her father insisted she gain a rudimentary knowledge of every possible skill the Monastery could teach her.

"It is essential you understand every aspect of our mission, my daughter," he said when she had asked if she could stop her arcane studies. "Many of our undead foes are capable magic users, so even if you yourself are not able to hurl a blazing fireball or summon a roaring blizzard, it is vital that you understand how such spells operate, and how you can prevent them."

Lilian could see her father's point, but so far she didn't understand at all, and would often return from Doan's "lessons" scorched and frozen. She couldn't help but wonder if the old mage was getting back at her for all those years of childhood mischief.

The other Crusaders her age didn't have much sympathy. Lilian saw them pointing when they thought she wasn't looking, heard the jibes they whispered about her behind her back. And she knew that the only reason they were willing to spar with her was because they all wanted to defeat the "chosen one."

Lilian sighed, idly drawing in the dirt with her training sword. Sometimes it was difficult being her father's prodigy. She wanted to be strong and become a champion of the Crusade, but she had never expected it to be so lonely.

"Ah, daughter, there you are," came her father's voice from behind her. Surprised, she jumped to her feet and saluted. The High Priest rarely visited her during her training sessions, something she was secretly glad for. Alone, she was a match for any of the Crusader's warriors, but if her father was watching, she would inevitably falter or fumble under his intense scrutiny, and end up embarrassing herself.

"Put your sword away, my dear," he said, beckoning. "Today is a very special occasion. The Grand Crusader has taken note of your efforts, and he has decided to personally mentor your growth. It will be as if the Light itself was guiding you, Lilian. This is a tremendous honor!"

Lilian's eyes grew wide, and she hastened to join her father, who was already striding down the hall. The Grand Crusader! The order's most esteemed, powerful figure, and he wanted to train her? Suddenly, the long hours of solitude seemed a small price to pay.

Her father led her to the Hall of Champions, where the Crusade honored its fallen heroes. Lilian had always felt at peace in the sacred chamber, as if the massive statues were somehow watching over her and protecting her.

The Grand Crusader was within, casually inspecting the statues and their memorial placards. Lilian hasn't spoken with him since her initiation, and she was delighted to see that he looked as strong and hearty as ever.

"Greetings, Grand Crusader,” said her father, bowing deeply. “As requested, I present to you my daughter, Lilian.”

“Thank you, High Priest. You may leave us. Lilian and I have much to discuss.”

“Light be with you,” said Voss, closing the ornate doors behind him.

Lilian stood at attention, excited and nervous. Dathrohan eyed her carefully, then nodded in mute approval. “Yes, your father was quite right. You are talented. You will be perfect,” he said with a smile. She tried not to grin.

“Follow me, child,” said the man, walking over to one of the statues. He reached up and tugged on a nearby torch sconce, and a heavy grinding sound filled the hall. Lilian gawked as an entire section of the wall fell away, revealing a small, dark staircase leading down into the ground.

Already descending, Dathrohan looked up at her expectantly. She snapped her mouth shut and hurried after him, chastised.

“Sha,” said the Grand Crusader, and a glowing sphere of light appeared in his palm, brightening the narrow passage. Behind them, the wall swung shut as they left the Monastery behind.

Lilian began to shiver, her training doublet chilling quickly in the dank air. Wherever they were headed, it was far beneath the Monastery grounds.

Finally, the stairs leveled out, and they entered into a cavernous chamber, too large for Dathrohan's light to fully illuminate. He waited for her to step into the room, then shut the iron door behind them. The heavy, grating clang sent a shiver down her spine, and it echoed hauntingly for a few long moments.

“I'm sure you're quite curious what I will be teaching you,” said Dathrohan congenially, walking forward. Lilian moved to follow, but he shook his head. “Just wait there, I won't be long.” He moved off into the shadows, his light growing fainter and fainter, dwindling away to nothing. She looked down at her hand to see if she could make it out in the darkness. Nothing.

“Your teachers are doing a fine job so far, but there are things beyond their capabilities,” came Dathrohan's voice, hollow and distant. “Your father is quite correct. You have a grand destiny before you, Lilian Voss, but not what you might expect.”

The darkness exploded into sepulchral hues, and she cried out as the sudden burst of color stabbed into her eyes. Frantically, she rubbed away the spots and staggered back, squinting.

Dathrohan stood across the room, dwarfed by a hideous statue of a winged, snarling humanoid. Hundreds of braziers lined the room, blazing with sickly purple flames that bathed the room in an unnatural gloom. Monstrous, distorted shadows twisted wildly around the Grand Crusader, reaching out for her. They curled around her body, freezing her blood, sapping her strength.

"You are talented, with great potential, but you are not ready for the darkness," droned Dathrohan. "But this will change. One day, you will lose everything. Your life, your love, your hope. And when that day comes, when your Light has deserted you...then, you will be ready."

Struggling, Lilian saw with horror that they weren't shadows as much as they were patches of...nothingness. She stared into the darkness and saw an infinite, yawning chasm, from which no light could ever escape.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to harm you, girl. I'm just going to give you a little...gift. You won't even remember after we're done here,” murmured Dathrohan, his voice growing heavy and sonorous. “Though feel free to scream all you like.” Profane shapes burst from his skin, his bones cracking and jerking. His body seemed to waver and elongate, melting into the shadows streaking through the air. The darkness swirled and hung heavy in the air, ragged tears in the world. It plunged down upon her.

She screamed.

* * * * *
Exhausted, Lilian leaned back against the bars of the cage and waited. A soft rain cascaded down, soaking her shredded garments, and the evening breeze chilled her pallid flesh to ice.

She didn't notice.

It hadn't been hard to escape the Forsaken. In fact, they seemed content to let her do whatever she wanted. Lilian had wandered aimlessly into the woods, and collapsed on the ground. In the back of her mind, she knew she should tell her father about the Val'kyr, but the idea of facing him in such a state terrified her. He would be so ashamed.

Still, there was always the chance that someone at the Monastery would be able to help her. Perhaps there was a remedy. The Light watched over its own.

Her mind made up, Lilian had marched up to a small Crusade outpost, shocking its yawning guardians, and demanded that she be taken prisoner.

"My name is Lilian Voss, daughter of High Priest Benedictus Voss!" she shouted. "I have urgent information for the Grand Crusader. I am NOT a Scourge, nor a Forsaken!" She spat on the ground, glaring. "I am telling the truth, I swear by the Light!"

After a hushed, whispered conversation, a squad of crusaders had emerged, weapons drawn. She kept her arms raised and let them escort her inside the gates. She half-expected them to lose their nerve and cut her down, but to her relief, they instead locked her inside a heavy iron cage atop a guard tower.

As she suspected, they didn't trust her, but they also didn't want to risk murdering the High Priest's daughter. And she also knew that moments after the lock clicked shut, a rider would be on his way to alert the Monastery. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.

She heard footsteps coming up the tower, and she sat upright expectedly. The man who emerged was not her father, however.

"Gebler! Oh, Gebler, I'm so glad to see you,” she blurted, relief flooding through her. “Tell me, have you heard from my father?" He nodded, studying her warily through the bars. She couldn't really blame him. "What did he say?"

"Lilian Voss, the High Priest denounces you as a daughter,” said her friend, his eyes cold. “He's ordered that you be executed immediately."

Lilian froze. "What? No!" she stammered. "This can't be...Gebler, you know me! We were friends once! This must be a mistake!"

Gebler's lip curled in distaste. "The High Priest sends his regrets," he said. "He had hoped that one day you would be a powerful weapon against our enemies." Lilian slumped against the bars, his words piercing her like lances. "Unfortunately, you were too dangerous in life, and you're far too dangerous in undeath."

He unsheathed his sword, held it up so she could see it shining in the night sky. "Gebler, father, why would you..." murmured Lilian as stared past the blade dully, uncomprehending, her dead heart crumbling to ruin in her chest.

First the Light had abandoned her. Now her best friend.

And her father. She had given everything for him, devoted her life to him, and this is how he repaid her.

How dare he, she thought, her sorrow quashed with sudden rage. How dare they betray me like this!

"I will enjoy killing you, you Scourged witch," said Gebler, thrusting his sword between the bars.

Something ignited within her. Suddenly, Lilian remembered Dathrohan's words from years ago. What he had taught her, and what he had made her forget. She reached deep within herself and cast her mind back to those terrible hours spent with the Grand Crusader.

She became shadow.

Gebler's sword entered her chest, but hit nothing except the bars on the other side of the cage. Lilian looked up at her childhood friend, a sad smile upon her face. Purple flames erupted from her hands, but instead of heat, Gebler felt only an intense, impossible cold sweep over him. The torches nearby flickered and died as the violet flames raced over Lilian's body, devouring it, leaving behind a ghostly, featureless apparition.

The horrified crusader backpedaled as Lilian walked through the cage, drifting through the heavy iron like wisps of smoke. He flailed his sword desperately, but it passed harmlessly through her translucent form, the blade trailing tendrils of shadow as it emerged.

She leaned in and embraced him tightly. "Goodbye, Gebler."

He screamed, and burst into flame. He staggered back a step, then collapsed as the shadowy fire consumed him. Within seconds, there was nothing left of her would-be executioner but a smoldering patch of darkness.

Lilian looked calmly down at the stain before turning to the horizon, toward the Monastery. "Daddy..." she whispered.

She stepped off the tower into the night, and was gone.

Non-Raid Transmog Weapons: Polearms

2011-12-19T06:44:00.000-08:00

Polearms are so neglected. We use a few of them while leveling up, but at endgame? Virtually unheard of! At least, as legitimate weapons, anyway. A few classes still use them as stat-sticks. Still, even if they're just worn for looks, there's some cool, easy-to-get polearms you could track down for transmogging.

Non-Raid Polearms
	Hellreaver Required Level: 60 Source: Hellfire Ramparts Very distinct polearm that many, many Warriors/Paladins/Death Knights would have used in Outlands. Unique model, has a 19% drop rate.
	Banner Slicer Required Level: 75 Source: Bind on Equip This polearm is commonly found on the Auction House, and while it looks very similar to other Northrend weapons, it is actually a unique model. I quite like the scroll paper wrapped around its blade.
	Blackhand Doomsaw Required Level: 60 Source: Blackrock Spire Simple yet badass, this has a 9% drop rate from Rend Blackhand. It shares a model with Lantresor's Warblade, which is a Nagrand quest reward (Horde, Alliance)
	Elementium Poleaxe Required Level: 85 Source: Blacksmithing This lethal looking scythe is easily obtainable, though for a bit of a price, and only at level 85. It shares a model with the Witch-Hunter's Harvester, which is a green-bladed model, also available through Blacksmithing.
	House Wrynn Halberd Required Level: 12 Source: Quest (Alliance) This Alliance-only polearm is a reward from the final quest in Westfall. It's fairly rare, since it shares its model with only the Icier Barbed Spear, a Quest reward from the Amphitheatre of Anguish, which most players have likely already vendored.
	Marrowstrike Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Trial of the Champion This spear-model polearm has a great color scheme and jagged look. It shares its model with a weapon from the Magtheridon's Lair raid, but is otherwise unique. Has a 15% drop rate.
	Plasma Rat's Hyper-Scythe Required Level: 70 Source: The Mechanar (Normal and Heroic) Besides having an awesome name, this dangerous-looking spear has a 21% drop rate on Normal, 20% drop rate on Heroic. It shares its model with Windcharger's Lance, a Quest reward.
	Sonic Spear Required Level: 70 Source: Shadow Labyrinth (Normal and Heroic) This amazing looking icy polearm is a unique model. It drops from Murmur at a 14% drop rate on Normal, 15% drop rate on Heroic.
	Terokk's Quill Required Level: 65 Source: Quest This sinister polearm is very vicious and evil looking. The only other weapon that used this model, the Blood-Tempered Ranseur, is no longer available in the game.
	Tidebreaker Trident Required Level: 70 Source: Vendor This large trident is purchasable from the Winterfin Murlocs for 50 Winterfin Clams, which are just lying around the beach on Borean Tundra's western shore. Shares a model with Flame Wrath (Blackrock Depths, 24% drop rate) and Trident of the Outcast Tribe (white tines, requires Exalted with Lower City, base price 250g 50s 80c).
	Whale-Stick Harpoon Required Level: 78 Source: Vendors (Various) This basic harpoon model requires Revered with the Kalu'ak, and has a base price of 82g 45s 45c. Shares a model with Impaling Harpoon, which drops from Normal Deadmines at a 24% drop rate.

Soloing the Greench as a Beast Mastery Hunter

2011-12-16T12:06:00.000-08:00

It's time for Winter's Veil! There's a few changes to this annual event, one of which is the fact that we can now get a daily quest, You're a Mean One..., to save Metzen the reindeer from The Abominable Greench.

The daily quest rewards a Stolen Present, which has a chance at dropping the new holiday pet, Lumpy! It can also drop a very cool BoE epic dagger, the Miniature Winter Veil Tree. And yes, it looks like a little metal Christmas Tree!

As for the Greench? He's gotten a MAJOR facelift - he's no longer just a random yeti, but has been buffed up to YETIMUS (boss) level size and strength! He's quite tough, and the daily quest is a group quest, so he's clearly intended for a few people to tackle together.

So of course, I had to try him solo.

I used:
- PVE Beast Mastery spec (Talents, Gear - just eligible for LFR)
- a Tenacity pet (Worm), though it was specced for PVE DPS, not tanking (Talents)
- 2/2 Spirit Bond (Beast Mastery talent)
- 2/3 Great Stamina (Pet talent)

My pet didn't have any points in the usual pet tanking talents - Natural Armor, Pet Barding, Blood of the Rhino, or Guard Dog. I also didn't have the very useful Glyph of Mending, nor Glyph of Misdirect (although Glyph of Misdirect probably isn't necessary.)

If you don't have a suitable pet for this task, just head down to Hillsbrad and tame a turtle from the river. Spec it into all survival talents, and you'll be golden.

Send your pet in, keep Mend Pet rolling, and start DPSing. The Greench will eventually throw two objects out at you - a snowball, and then a Christmas tree. As soon as you see either of these headed your way, run away.

The snowball will turn into a snowman, who after a few moments, will freeze anyone nearby in place. This is really bad when combined with the tree, which marks the Greench's Stomp location. About five seconds after he tosses the tree, he'll charge over to where it landed and do an AoE Stomp there, sending anyone he hits (such as players who got frozen by the snowman) flying up into the air, resulting in heavy damage plus fall damage.

Aside from dodging these two objects, the most important thing in this fight is keeping Mend Pet ticking on your pet, because the Greench hits pretty hard. In fact, he'll likely hit harder than Mend Pet is able to keep up with (without the Glyph of Mending, anyway), and your pet will start dropping dangerously low in health.

When this happens, make sure you have some distance, refresh Mend Pet, then Distracting Shot the Greench. Immediately start running away, as the Greench will forget all about your pet and head your way. The Distracting Shot effect will only keep him fixated on you for 6 seconds, at which point he'll go back to his highest aggro target (your pet). So you're going to kite or Deterrence-tank him until he loses interest, all the while your Mend Pet is ticking away and getting your pet back up to healthy condition.

That's basically it! You just repeat this process as needed. You can stand there and Deterrence the Greench's attacks, you can run and kite him for a bit, or you can even Feign Death when he reaches you to send him back to your pet. It's okay if you get hit once or twice, he won't kill you that quickly.

If you Distracting Shot him after he's already tossed the tree down, he'll usually start coming after you, then change his mind and go charge the tree, using up the Distracting Shot duration. This makes it even easier!

Here's a demonstration of how it works. A few other players join in near the end, but the basic process is there. And remember, this ia a pet not talented for tanking. If you bring a tanking pet with better armor/health/healing talents, it'll only be easier!

This "aggro tennis" method is a great way to tackle enemies that are too lethal to simply pet tank-and-spank. Distracting Shot + kiting/Deterrence nets your pet those precious seconds of undisturbed Mend Pet healing, and because the taunt is only temporary, the enemy will go back to your pet all on its own. It's a very useful trick.

You can even use it in PVE encounters, with a real tank, though I wouldn't advise it unless the rest of your group knows what you're doing. For example, I've taunted/kited raid bosses for a few seconds to give our Druid tank enough time to shift out of bear form and battle rez someone. Then I just Feign and the boss goes right back to the Druid, who's back in bear form.

On an unrelated note, MMO Melting Pot is accepting nominations for the Piggies, a continuation of the very nice blogosphere tradition Larisa of Pink Pigtail Inn started back in 2008! Larisa has retired from WoW blogging, but the Pot is carrying on the tradition, so head on over and check out their nomination categories, and leave them some suggestions!

Sacrifice, survival and the burden of leadership

2011-12-13T11:45:00.000-08:00

Ner'zhul was not a monster. He did not order the Draenei killed because of greed or anger, nor was he trying to conquer their lands or take over their cities. No, he did it because the Spirits told him that it was absolutely necessary if he wanted his race to survive.

Of course, we now know it was not the Spirits Ner'zhul heard, but the sinister whisperings of Kil'jaeden. But think about this for a moment - how in the world was Ner'zhul supposed to know this? The Orcs had lived in peace and had never been exposed to demons, or for that matter even another friendly race other than the Draenei. They were completely unprepared for Kil'jaeden's subtle manipulations.

Ner'zhul did not suspect any trickery. Why would he? In his mind, the Spirits that had always guided him with such care and concern would never lead him astray. The advice of the Spirits was the backbone of their entire culture and society. The idea that the Spirits were lying would be impossible to even comprehend - it would be like Elune misleading the Night Elves, or the Light deluding its faithful clergy.

It is also important to remember that at this point in time, the Orcs were very much a fledgling race, with little worldly experience and knowledge. Much like a young child will unhesitatingly do anything their parent says, the Orcs had complete and utter faith in their ancestral Spirits. They were completely loyal, and completely trusting.

Unfortunately, when dealing with someone as cruel as Kil'jaeden, these were not traits to be admired, but exploited.

Even when the Orcs began their tragic war upon the Draenei, Ner'zhul never derived any personal joy or satisfaction from their victories. Some Orcs did, sure - namely Gul'dan and Blackhand - but many, such as Ner'zhul and Durotan, believed they were only doing what was necessary to survive. They fought not for power or for bloodlust, but simply because they believed what their "Spirits" were telling them.

We know this to be true, because when Ner'zhul did learn of Kil'jaeden's trickery, he was aghast and horrified at what he had done. The shaman wanted to deny the Demon Lord, to resist, but he was powerless to do so - his treacherous apprentice, Gul'dan, told Kil'jaeden of Ner'zhul's change of heart, and Kiljaeden stripped Ner'zhul of his powers and broke his will, before assigning Gul'dan to be the new spiritual leader of the Horde.

Initiating the slaughter on Draenor was Ner'zhul's first great crime, but I believe with time even this terrible wrong would have been forgiven. After all, the Draenei know that while the Orcs may have been the ones wielding the axes, they were not really to blame. They were nothing more than pawns in an ancient, cruel game; convenient tools to be used by Kil'jaeden and then discarded after they had outlived their usefulness. They know full well what the Legion is capable of - Velen realized it way back when hostilities first broke out, and tried to persuade the Orcs from their dark path, but was unable to convince them.

However, Ner'zhul's legendary sins did not end there. After the Draenei fled Draenor, the planet began tearing itself apart, leaving the Orcs stranded on a broken, dying world. Even after Gul'dan opened a portal to Azeroth, giving the Orcs a new chance at survival, they were pushed back by the Alliance forces (and Gul'dan's own treachery) and ended up once again trapped on their crumbling home.

The Orcs were doomed. Draenor was barren and dying, and could no longer support them, and those still on Azeroth were isolated and alone, and would surely have been hunted down and killed eventually by the vengeful Alliance.

But then Ner'zhul made a decision that would have colossal historical ramifications - he decided to re-open the portals, to find new, healthy worlds for the Orcs to invade. His quest would end up shattering his homeland into the fragmented Outland, grant Deathwing and his brood passage to Draenor, and finally, lead to Ner'zhul falling into the clutches of Kil'jaeden, who tortured and corrupted the ex-shaman, transforming him into the Lich King. (And we all know what kind of nasty stuff he was responsible for.)

It's easy to see why Ner'zhul is so hated and vilified in Warcraft history, to both in-game characters and players. However...it's easy to condemn his actions, but could you have acted differently in his shoes?

Would you have been able to sentence your entire race to extinction?

I think Ner'zhul did the only thing any rational being would have done. He was well aware of the destruction and bloodshed that would ensue by re-opening the Portal and once again laying siege to the Alliance, and of the sickening monstrosity of finding new, innocent worlds to lay waste to simply so the Orcs could survive. But the alternative - doing nothing, and letting his people slowly die a starving, wasting death on the shattered ruins of Draenor - was unthinkable. As the original leader of the Horde, the one who, though unintentionally, had set them down this path of pain and self-destruction, Ner'zhul felt it was his responsibility to make things right.

Ner'zhul paused and glanced back "But you said you could reopen the portal. Why do that if not to return there?"

"Return, yes, but not for battle." Gorefiend closed the gap between them again. "We need only to find and claim certain magical artifacts. Once we have those, we can leave Azeroth and never return."

"And stay here?" Ner'zhul waved a hand, the gesture encompassing much of the stricken landscape around them.

"You know as well as I that Draenor is dying. Soon it will not be able to sustain even those of us left."

He had not remembered the shaman as being so slow-witted. "It will not have to," Gorefiend assured him. speaking slowly as if to a child. "With these artifacts in hand, we can leave both Azeroth and Draenor behind and go someplace else. Some place better."

Now he had Ner'zhul's full attention. Something like hope flickered across the white-painted face. For a long moment. Ner’zhul stood poised either to reenter his hut and resume his self-pitying seclusion, or to embrace this new possibility.

"You have a plan for this?" the old shaman asked finally.

"I do."

Another long pause. Gorefiend waited.

"... I will listen." Ner'zhul turned and stepped back into his hut.

But this time Teron Gorefiend—warlock and death knight—came with him.

-Beyond the Dark Portal

It was an impossible dilemma, and Ner'zhul made the choice that would reignite the great war with the Alliance and end the tentative peace that had fallen upon Azeroth. Even now, years later, the Orcs have struggled to outgrow their terrible past and come to terms with the atrocities they committed. Orc society is driven by a heavy sense of guilt and redemption (or was, pre-Garrosh, anyway), and some elders like Eitrigg and Saurfang know that they will never be able to truly atone for their sins.

But you know what? They survived. The Orcs still exist, still live and breathe today, all because of Ner'zhul. Deep down inside, whether they want to admit it or not, every Orc knows that Ner'zhul is single-handedly responsible for the survival of their race...that he essentially sold his soul to save his people.

Ner'zhul did many bad things. His actions indirectly, and later, directly, caused unspeakable suffering and disaster. He will be forever remembered as the one who ordered the slaughter of the Draenei, the one responsible for the Dark Portal's reopening and the renewal of the endless Horde/Alliance conflict, and as he who became the first Lich King.

And he was all of these things. But back when he was a broken, shattered ex-Shaman facing the very real threat of extinction, he did what needed to be done to ensure the survival of his race. For all his flaws and mistakes, for all his crimes, he just wanted his people to survive. He didn't re-open the portals for greed or power. He did it for hope.

This isn't the first time we've seen this scenario, of a leader doing everything and anything in his power to save his people, no matter the cost. Another famous example is Aiden Perenolde, former leader of Alterac during the Second War, who betrayed the Alliance and allowed the Horde free passage through his lands in return for leaving its citizens unharmed.

Just like Ner'zhul, Perenolde is also reviled to this day, by both in-game NPCs and real-life players. He is regarded as a vile traitor, a monster, a coward, and perhaps most damning, someone who sold out the rest of humanity - his own race - for his own gain.

Because of the scope and ramifications of his actions, he is generally regarded as one of the greatest villains in Azerothian history.

I disagree.

Few people realize that Perenolde's agreement with Orgrim Doomhammer was not motivated by greed, a lust for power, jealousy/envy of the other nations, or anything like that. No, Perenolde met with the Orc Warchief and agreed to the treacherous bargain for one reason and one reason only - survival. And not simply his own - the survival of his people, the civilians and citizens of Alterac.

Doomhammer nodded. "So your message said. What do you want from me?"

"Assurances," [Perenolde] replied.

"Of what sort?"

"I want your word, as a warrior and a leader, that you will keep your warriors in check," the man answered. "No killing, raiding, razing, or other atrocities here in the mountains. Leave our cities and villages intact and do not hound or hunt our people."

-Tides of Darkness

After going over the details, Doomhammer agreed to spare Alterac in return for free passage.

"When we conquer this land I will place my protection around these mountains, that none may violate them. You and yours shall be safe."

-Tides of Darkness

Later, when Perenolde explained his treasonous decision to his general, a man named Hath, and Alterac's other horrified commanders, he told them quite honestly and clearly why he felt the treaty was necessary.

"Yes, I would have us conspire with them!" Perenolde snapped, losing his composure. "Because I would have us survive!" He let his anger, and his terror, boil over into his words. "Do you have any idea what we are facing? The Horde, the entire Horde, is planning to sweep through these mountains! Through our home! Do you have any idea how many of them there are? Thousands! Tens of thousands!" Hath nodded grudgingly, as did a few of the others—they had seen the same reports he had. "And do you have any idea what these orcs are like? I have seen one of them, no farther away from me than you are now. They are enormous! Nearly as tall as trolls, and twice as wide! Massively muscled, with tusks and fangs—this one carried a hammer it would take three men to lift, and he waved it about as if it were a child's toy! No man could stand against that! They'll kill us all, don't you understand? They've already destroyed Stormwind, and Alterac will be next!"

"But the Alliance—" Hath began. Perenolde laughed bitterly.

"The Alliance what?" he demanded. "Where are they now? Not here, I'll tell you that! We formed the Alliance to protect our kingdoms against exactly this sort of attack, but here we are with the Horde breathing down our necks and the precious Alliance is nowhere in sight. They've abandoned us, don't you see?" He could hear his voice rising to near-hysteria, and sought to rein it back in. "It is every kingdom for itself now," he told them as calmly as he could manage. "I have to think about Alterac first. The other kings would do the same."

-Tides of Darkness

One of Perenolde's officers asked him if he believed the orcs could be trusted, and Alterac's king was honest - he didn't know. But, he explained, it was their only option if they hoped to survive.

"We have no choice," he replied slowly. "They can crush us with barely a thought. If they betray us, we are finished. But if they hold to their word—and I think they will—Alterac will survive. No matter the cost."

-Tides of Darkness

Perenolde was in an impossible situation. If he remained loyal to the Alliance and ordered Alterac's military to oppose the invading Horde, he would be condemning each of his nation's citizens to death. The Horde would have slaughtered the soldiers, burned and pillaged their way across Alterac, and been well on their way before any reinforcements from Lordaeron arrived to help. And this wasn't some unjustified assumption by Perenolde - it was 100% true. Later on, even when furious about Perenolde's betrayal, Trollbane doesn't deny it. Alterac was on their own, isolated, scared and completely doomed unless Perenolde did something. So he did.

Was it the right decision? Who could possibly answer that? People speak bravely of making necessary sacrifices for the greater good, but talk is cheap. Besides, it's one thing to heroically sacrifice yourself for the benefit of others. It's quite different to consciously sacrifice thousands of innocent people, even if IS for "the greater good."

I repeat - what was Perenolde supposed to do? Do the "right thing" for the rest of the world, and valiantly oppose the forces against him in a suicidal stand? Maybe he could have armed Alterac's merchants and farmers with swords so they could flail helplessly at the hardened savages cutting them down? Or give daggers to the mothers so they could slit their children's throats, and then their own, rather than be butchered by these green-skinned, crazed monsters?

Even Thoras Trollbane, the volatile, violent leader of Stromgarde, sympathized with the reasoning behind Perenolde's decision when he traveled to Alterac to seize command.

Trollbane glanced around them. None of the Alterac soldiers were close enough to hear him as he lowered his voice. "You're a fine soldier and a good commander, Hath," he said softly, "but you've always been a terrible liar. You knew they were heading south, didn't you?"

The Alterac general sighed and nodded. "Perenolde made arrangements with the Horde somehow," he admitted. "Free passage in exchange for protection."

Trollbane nodded. That was what he had suspected. "And you went along with this?" he demanded.

Hath stiffened. "We were faced with annihilation!" he replied sharply. "They would have crushed us all, and slaughtered our people! And there was no one to aid us!" He shook his head. "Perenolde made the choice to protect Alterac first and foremost. What he did may not be decent, but it saved lives!"

"And what of the lives in Lordaeron?" Trollbane asked softly. "They will die because you allowed the Horde to pass unhindered."

Hath glared at him. "They are soldiers! They know the risk! The Horde would have killed our families, our children! It is not the same!"

Trollbane nodded, feeling some sympathy toward the older man. "No, it is not," he agreed. "And your loyalty to your people is commendable. But if the Horde conquers Lordaeron they will control the entire continent. What makes you think you will be safe?"

Hath sighed. "I do not know," he admitted. "Their leader gave Perenolde his word, but I do not know how far such a creature may be trusted." He shook his head. "I told Perenolde we should abide by our oaths to the other nations, but he countermanded that. I have sworn fealty to him, and I must obey. Plus I thought he might be right, that this might be our only chance for survival." He frowned. "But survival of the race is more important than that of any one kingdom. And if we do not have our honor, we have nothing at all." He raised his chin, a stern expression settling over his features. "Well, I will reclaim our honor," he declared.

-Tides of Darkness

The true irony here is that while Hath, Trollbane, and even Perenolde had no way of knowing this, Doomhammer fully intended to keep his word and leave Alterac untouched, and protect it as he had agreed. (This isn't speculation - Doomhammer states it in the novel.) Why? Because he had given his word; because it was a matter of honor.

In the end, Perenolde was arrested, had his nation and rank stripped from him, and his family line was disgraced. He was shamed and lost everything for his treachery. But was he actually wrong? After all, he managed to successfully accomplish the impossible. Because of his actions, Alterac lived. True to his word, Doomhammer led the Horde through the mountain passes and left its citizens and lands unharmed. Granted, it may not have happened exactly the way Perenolde had intended, but every Alterac citizen that survived the war did so because of their king.

Still not convinced? Still think Ner'zhul and Perenolde should have done the "right thing" and sacrificed their people for the greater good? Surrendered their lives so that others might live?

Tell that to Velen.

The destruction of Draenor, the corruption of the Orc race, the thousands who died during the great wars when the Horde invaded Azeroth - all of these tragedies could have been avoided had Velen "simply" sacrificed himself and his people to the Burning Legion. Instead, they fled, over and over again, each time leading the Legion to untarnished, pure worlds, ripe for decimation.

You might say this isn't a fair comparison. That Velen and the other Draenei were victims. After all, they didn't ask for Kil'jaeden to come and shatter their perfect society. And this is true. But then again, did the Orcs ask the Draenei to come live on their planet, and bring their demoniac curse with them? Did Perenolde and Alterac ask for the Horde to invade their lands, and force them to choose between betrayal and extinction?

Now, Velen had no way of knowing Kil'jaeden would become so obsessed with revenge and relentlessly, eternally devote his entire existence to hunting down his former people. Velen can't really be blamed for settling his refugee people on a new world to live in peace, only to have the Eredar arrive and destroy everything.

Not the first time, anyway. Or maybe the second. Possibly even the third.

But how long do we give Velen this free pass? He's not a dumb guy. It wouldn't have been long before he spotted this terrible trend and realized that no matter where the Draenei went, the Legion would always be close behind. That settling on a new world was essentially dooming it to demonic invasion, sooner or later. Hope and optimism that the Legion won't find them is a nice thought, but after 25,000 years of being pursued and hunted by Kil'jaeden's servants, the Draenei should definitely know better by now.

What makes matters worse is that time and time again, the Draenei arrive on a new world and bring their horrible demonic legacy down upon its residents...and when the Burning Legion arrives (as it always does), what does Velen & company do? Simple - they just up and leave, and let Kil'jaeden unleash his fury upon the innocent native inhabitants instead.

Let me repeat that.

THEY FLEE AND LET OTHER RACES BE BUTCHERED IN THEIR PLACE.

So often before, Kil'jaeden's forces had descended upon a world where Velen was thought to be, only to have him escape. Kil'jaeden had nursed his insulted pride by destroying such worlds, but the slaughter of primitive races—though pleasant—did not slake his demonic thirst for complete and total revenge.

-Rise of the Horde

And this isn't some heroic retreat, where the Draenei fight the demons valiantly alongside the native people until all hope is lost, and only then do they agonizingly withdraw and blast off into space at the last second. Nope, they actually just abandon the planet before the Legion even shows up, and let Kil'jaeden do whatever he wants to their former neighbors.

I'm rather horrified at this, to be honest.

You know what it's like? It's like the Draenei are being chased by a rabid wolf, and they keep grabbing innocent kids off the sidewalk and hurling them backwards into the wolf's path, just to aid in their own escape. It's cowardly, shameful, and pretty much the most selfish thing ever.

But hey, at least the Draenei have only been doing this for 25,000 YEARS.

What. The. Hell.

Need some scale to go with that? When a young Durotan meets with Velen in Rise of the Horde, he mentions that the Draenei arrived on Draenor about two hundred years earlier. At the end of the novel Durotan is older and wiser, but still very much in his prime, so at most a few decades have passed. This means from the time the Draenei arrived on Draenor, it took Kil'jaeden no more than 250 years to track them down and once again destroy their lives.

250 years. And the Draenei have been on the run for 25,000 years.

That's A THOUSAND WORLDS.

Think about that for a second.

Now granted, we don't know if the Draenei's tenure on Draenor was unusually short. Maybe it usually takes the Legion way longer to locate them, or maybe this planet's destruction went exceptionally fast because Kil'jaeden didn't have to actually transport his demonic troops across space. But how much longer? Four times as long, to make a nice even 1000 years per planet? Oh, that's only TWENTY-FIVE PLANETS. Ten times longer? That's still TEN PLANETS.

That's a lot of innocent blood on those blue hands, Velen. How many cultures fell so that the Draenei could live? How many races perished for the crime of simply existing on a world you once called home?

And if things start looking bad on Azeroth, if the Legion shows up in force and starts beating us back, are the Draenei just going to pack up and leave?

As for Velen's leadership decisions...well, what should Velen have done? Should he have stayed behind on Argus and let the Legion slaughter him and the rest of the uncorrupted Draenei? Should he have given the order to stop fleeing long ago and just let Kil'jaeden's minions catch them, so the Draenei wouldn't be leading them to innocent new worlds?

Surely selfless, noble sacrifice would have been the right thing to do...the "honorable" decision. Right?

After all...it's for the greater good.

But Velen has never done these things. He can't. He simply cannot condemn his people to death, even if their survival means that countless others will suffer and perish. He bears the burden of leadership upon his shoulders, and feels personally responsible for each and every life in his charge. He just can't make that sacrifice.

And neither could Ner'zhul. Or Aiden Perenolde.

Some decisions are simply impossible.

Minipost: The legend of Fabyoulore, part 2

2011-12-12T05:09:00.000-08:00

After the strange mail Fabulor received from "Fabyoulore", I didn't think much of it for a while. I figured it had just been someone I knew who would get a kick out of something like that, like Liala, Narci or Dee, and that I wouldn't hear from Fabyoulore again.

However, my guildie Lyonn had a few encounters of his own with Fabyoulore...

Lyonn was hanging out in Orgrimmar's Tauren area (which we call the T-spot) one night when Fabyoulore randomly whispered him. Fabyoulore, who was sitting in a tub of water near the blacksmith, told Lyonn to come into his office (the tub), as he had a business proposition. He added that his office was going through renovations. He then asked Lyonn to bring him to "his evil twin" Fabulor, because Fabulor had something of his.

Fabyoulore's "office".

What made this even more bizarre was that every time this happened, I was not online, so Lyonn couldn't actually do anything about it! He kept reporting these strange occurrences to me, amused and confused, wondering if it was some kind of strange RP event I was participating in. But I knew nothing about it, and was just as curious!

This continued for like a week. Fabulor and Fabyoulore were simply not destined to meet.

But then, one day, it happened. I was on my druid Mardak talking to Lyonn (who was on his alt, Taupy), when:

So I logged onto Fabulor, put on my RP set and RP-walked into the T-spot. What would happen? I had absolutely no idea what I was in store for. Furthermore, whoever Fabyoulore was, it wasn't anyone on my Real ID, which eliminated all the people I would have suspected. Mysterious!

Well, as soon as I approached, Fabyoulore leaped out of his office and immediately barraged me with about a dozen snowballs and a Voodoo Skull, then ran off and vanished.

It was hilarious. Fabyoulore cackled a bit more, then logged off.

I didn't see him again for a few months, and kind of forgot about it. A while later, I got hacked, and though I got my items restored, Fabulor's RP set remained in the restoration mail for a few weeks, as I was busy doing other things.

A few weeks ago, though, Buglamp returned to the game, and as I was telling him about Fabyoulore, I decided that hey, this is as good a time as any to get my RP set out of the mail and back into my bags. I fetched the items and went over to the bank to put away some other restored items, and had been standing there chatting with Bug about Fabyoulore when suddenly, what do I see out of the corner of my eye?

I hadn't seen Fabyoulore in months, and suddenly, as soon as I don my RP set, he shows up within minutes! Now THIS was strange.

Even better was the fact that I had no idea how long Fabyoulore had been hiding there, right next to me, hiding behind the Orgrimmar Brave.

I told Bug, who immediately headed over to look for himself, and who immediately lost his mind when he saw that Fabyoulore was actually stealthed and hiding, staring at Fabulor. I think it blew his mind a little. And it only got worse when Fabyoulore started pelting Fabulor with snowballs AGAIN, before cackling and running off and disappearing.

I haven't seen Fabyoulore since, but I suspect Fabulor hasn't seen the last of his sinister twin. (And I still don't know who it is! Which makes it even more fun.)

Transmogging heirlooms: it's just not that big a deal

2011-12-09T11:07:00.000-08:00

(Note: When I say Paragon in this post, I mean anyone who exploited the LFR loot bug. I am simply condensing this group into a single entity for simplicity.)

There has been a great deal of kerfuffle this week over some bugs and glitches that slipped through the cracks when 4.3 went live. Everyone's been all up in arms over these topics - on the forums, on Twitter, on blogs - and we're all weighing in with our various opinions.

The first is the Looking for Raid exploitation, through which players who had already gotten their weekly chance at LFR loot from Dragon Soul bosses could bypass this limitation and receive more loot. The big news, of course, is that top-end progression guilds such as Paragon took advantage of this exploit.

Blizzard laid down the law, handing out temporary suspensions that will put these guilds behind in progression, as well as removing the ill-gotten gains. Players have been pleased and satisfied with these actions. It seems that most of us feel that these players definitely should be punished (since this exploit is basically cheating) and that the punishment is appropriate, and deserved.

I agree completely. I think the punishment fit the crime, and that they should be disciplined. I'd have slapped their wrists harder, personally, but whatever. Moving on.

The second incident is the fact that heirloom items have been keeping their transmogrified appearances when mailed to other characters, despite the very well-known fact that this should not be happening. (One of the earliest transmogrification rules was that mailing an item would strip it of any transmogs.) Many players have been overjoyed by this surprise, and have gleefully transmogrified their heirlooms to make their alts or bank toons look all fancy and snazzy, or really, just different than the same old boring heirlooms they've been staring at for a few years now.

However, this bug was recently hotfixed out (all items now properly lose their transmogrified appearances when mailed), leaving many players quite upset and disappointed that Blizzard would ruin this fun, harmless bug.

To be honest, I don't really see what the fuss is about.

Lack of appreciation for what we DO have

From the outrage and bitterness I've seen on Twitter and on the forums, you would think Blizzard just took away our favorite puppy or something. The vitriol and accusations have been flying hard and heavy - this just proves that they don't want WoW to be fun; oh look, Blizzard has "nerfed fun"; transmogrified heirlooms were too fun, so nope let's remove it, but we'll still leave in boring grinding.

It's apparently the end of the world. Blizzard is ANTI-FUN.

Really, people? This is what we're complaining about? This is worth getting stressed out over?

Have we all forgotten that a week ago we didn't even HAVE transmogrification yet?

It reminds me of the Worgen mount controversy, where players complained and begged Blizzard (deservedly) to please, please give the Worgen some racial mounts. Some people just wanted them, some wanted them for achievements, but regardless, they had good reason to ask.

And so Blizzard did! They announced, tada! You'll be getting horses! And then the players began to rejoice and celebrate, appreciative that their pleas and requests had been answered! Oh wait, that's actually not what happened at all. No, instead of being happy about the announcement, all we heard for a week were complaints about how boring horses are, how drab the appearances were, how X or Y would have been better, how LAZY Blizzard was for using an already-existing model...the list went on and on.

And now, with 4.3, we've finally received what we've been asking Blizzard for, for YEARS. The ability to use old, favorite gear in a cosmetic sense. It took them SO LONG, but transmogrification is finally here!

But oh, we can't use them on heirlooms, so clearly Blizzard are a bunch of jerks and meanies and they hate us and they just don't want us to have any fun.

Guys...this is why we can't have nice things.

Yes, it would be nice to be able to transmog heirlooms. I hate looking at that stupid Warlock robe/shoulders/staff just as much as everyone else! I'm not saying it's not disappointing - it is, especially if you spent a lot of gold transmogging those pieces.

But this much outrage and bitterness? All because Blizzard corrected a "feature" that was never supposed to even exist? I've seen countless people cursing Blizzard out, demanding explanations and justifications from Blizz blues, and even seen a few who have said that this is basically the last straw and that they're ready to walk away from the game in disgust.

Um, here's an idea.

How about just...being happy with what we DO have?

I simply do not understand why so many players are so eager to immediately hoist the Blizzard effigy, torches angrily raised, instead of simply moving on and enjoying the cool new things that were just introduced. Write a forum post, tell Blizzard how you feel, definitely! Let them know how cool it would be to have transmogged heirlooms, by all means. Maybe they'll listen. Maybe they'll implement it - properly and intentionally - in the future.

But why obsess over it? Why let this - let's be honest - incredibly minor incident turn into a big sour spot that is going to ruin your enjoyment of the game?

It would be one thing if they had removed something we've always had and loved. Like if they removed vanity pets? Hell yes, break out the pitchforks, let's riot! Or achievements. They haven't been around that long, but they're an integral part of the game now. Or something that is a crucial part of your character's flavor and history, such as changing the names of a Warlock's demons.

If Blizzard were to remove those, then yes, people would be upset, and their anger would be very justified.

But this? They didn't take anything away from us. At all.

If you only have snarky, cynical things to say about the game, and if you truly do feel Blizzard is such a pit of fiends, why are you even here? It's certainly not enjoyable to listen to. Nobody really enjoys the rantings of a person who is constantly complaining that Blizzard hates them.

Nobody.

I don't know. This drama all just seems so unimportant, when we should be excited about the fact that we even have transmog. Such an explosive response for the removal of something minor that we never had, and were never intended to have, in the first place.

If ever there was an appropriate time for the Twitter hashtag #firstworldwowproblems...

But WHY?

After all, it's harmless, so why did they fix it? Why can't they just let us have our fun?

The answer is simple and we already know why - because it wasn't supposed to work like that.

Maybe there's coding or technical reasons. They did say that programming/resource limitations were why enchants/gems would be removed from items deposited into Void Storage. Or, maybe they don't like the image of a guy fully decked out in glowing Magma Giant armor stepping into Ragefire Chasm while the rest of his party is equipped with torn farmer pants and old clubs. Or maybe they just wanted to maintain control over their game, and keep transmog working the way they originally intended, and not let player demands dictate their decisions.

Should you ask Blizzard to explain their decision? Absolutely! It was disappointing to see them quickly remedy the heirloom bug, primarily because we don't know why it was corrected. I think upset players should definitely poll Blizzard and ask them why, and ask - not DEMAND, but ask - that this bug be turned into a feature, because it's awesome.

But if you think they removed it because it was too fun...come on. You're just stirring up trouble for the sake of trouble. Take a moment and calm down, and just think. They had a reason. It might not be a reason you like, or a reason you want to hear, but they have a reason. And it's not just to be dicks.

The fine art of hypocrisy

I find it quite ironic that these two incidents took place in such rapid succession, considering they are, at heart, the exact same thing. One minute, people are e-high-fiving about the righteous punishment laid down on those vile scum who would dare exploit a bug, and the next, they're stressed and angry that they can no longer use the heirloom transmog bug.

Now of course, obviously there's some significant differences. Getting extra LFR loot is a competitive advantage with game ramifications, while transmogging heirlooms is purely cosmetic and for fun.

And yet, they're both bugs. They're both unintentional, accidental game elements that Blizzard did not want, for whatever reason.

I've also seen a lot of snide comments directed Paragon's way, that they should have known it was wrong, and that even if they happened to find this glitch, it was their responsibility to report it or ticket it instead of taking advantage of it. After all, they signed the Terms of Service. They're obligated to tell Blizzard about any bugs they find, instead of consciously and willingly keeping quiet to keep the bug's existence a secret.

Well, how many of you reported the heirloom bug?

How many tickets did you open about it?

Now, I'm not judging. While I didn't transmog any heirlooms (I have no interest) or exploit LFR, I've kept quiet about bugs in the past because I enjoy them, just like I'm sure many of us have. For instance, I've written about how to sneak lowbie characters in to kill Coren Direbrew, a scenario akin to exploiting LFR, with actual gain - gear, achievements, etc. - to be had.

I've also written about how you used to be able to keep the Tahret Dynasty Mallet and smash it around outside of Uldum, a purely cosmetic bug similar to transmogging heirlooms. I've written a guide on how to get the cool blue cannister backpack, which I use on ALL of my mains. And while I never blogged about it, back in Wrath I helped my friend tame Garwal, the Worgen in Howling Fjord who (with a little trickery) you could tame in Worgen form.

Why did I keep quiet about these bugs instead of reporting them? The same reason you didn't ticket the transmogged heirlooms, and why Paragon didn't ticket the LFR exploit.

Because we didn't want Blizzard to find out.

And guess what? Blizzard did find out about these bugs that I have mentioned, and have since corrected all of them, except the backpack. I'm disappointed, of course. The Coren fix that came with 4.3 was long overdue, so I can't complain about that. But the mallet was hotfixed the day I wrote the post, ending my fun. And I REALLY wanted that Worgen pet. Cripes, if they ever remove the backpack, I will be crushed, because I love how it looks and always wear it.

But you know what? Oh well. WoW goes on.

Disappointment =/= outrage. I know full well these things are not supposed to work this way, so if they get fixed, so be it. I'm certainly not going to lose any sleep over it, or contemplate quitting the game from this "slap in the face." It wouldn't be surprising, and most importantly, it's just not that big a deal.

Hell, if I suddenly get a 3-day suspension for exploiting Coren back in August or whatever, I can't even really be upset! After all, I knowingly did the same as what Paragon did. The gear I got is meaningless, and it doesn't affect anyone at all, but the fact remains that I broke the rules, knowingly and fully aware that I was doing it.

Which is what any player is doing when they are aware of a bug, and instead of reporting it, keeps quiet and uses it for their own enjoyment or gain.

Am I using extreme examples and comparisons? Obviously. And I'm not saying the LFR and heirloom transmog exploits are really equal, due to the "material" gain of one (and the meta ramifications), compared to the purely-cosmetic element of the other.

But I do think there's quite a few players who might want to hold off on morally crucifying Paragon for not reporting a bug when they didn't report theirs either.

In closing, I understand why so many players are upset about the heirloom bug. So you're sick of the heirloom looks, and can't transmog them into Firelands gear? Shrug. Go get some other gear off the AH and make it look like something else, then? We can STILL TRANSMOG HEIRLOOMS now, something that seems to have been forgotten in this whole fuss. We may not be able to have awesome tier sets while we're mucking about in Wailing Caverns, but that doesn't mean we can't still have some fun with our outfits and never have to look at those ugly heirloom models again!

But most importantly, take a breath, guys. Relax. Especially if your blood pressure is up or you're legitimately angry. This is So. Incredibly. Minor. Petition Blizzard, make your case known, ask nicely, yes! Let them know how much players would love to see this feature, and maybe it'll happen. But if you're experiencing genuine real-life stress over this, maybe you should take a step back and count to ten. It's SO not worth it!

After all, what exactly are you getting so mad about?

The appearance of your video game character's hat.

There are things in WoW worth fighting for, like the Real ID fiasco, or even the Warlock pet accident. But this? Transmogging heirlooms so you can look cool while questing in Redridge? Making your bank alt look like they killed Ragnaros?

This isn't one of them.

Letters from a Shattered World roundup

2011-12-08T12:58:00.000-08:00

Another year, another Letters NaNo complete! (National Novel Writing Month) If you don't know what NaNo is, the basic concept is you write a novel - 50k words - in November. You're encouraged to just write, don't worry about proofreading or editing, just WRITE. So if you're wondering why I just abruptly spun off into fiction, that's why.

Once again, the criteria was simple - the Letters had to be Shattering/Cataclysm-specific. If I could have written them before Cataclysm came out, then it wasn't valid. There were some good suggestions by a few people for interesting characters, but unfortunately they were older characters, and thus not eligible.

This year, I tried really hard to be more faction-neutral, and I think I managed it pretty well! I sorted Letters into three categories - Horde, Alliance, or Neutral. In other words, would this letter make a lot more sense to players of a specific faction? Or are their stories equally understandable to both Horde and Alliance? For example, the letter about the orc flight master on the island above Vashj'ir is a neutral storyline. It's written by an orc, but it's not really about the Horde, nor does it involve info only Horde players would know.

Here was my breakdown:

Horde: 6
Gamon, Masha, Calder Gray, Magatha, Wabang, Orgrimmar Thief

Alliance: 6/7
Elling Trias, Jorgensen, Edwin VanCleef, Foxy Topper, Tobias Mistmantle, Lurid (and the bonus letter, Grimclaw)

Neutral: 10
Mylune, Vashreen, Neptulon, Jadaar, Briglar, Neltharion, Thisalee Crow, Millhouse Manastorm, Shaina Fuller, Lynnia Abbendis

There were so many interesting characters I would have liked to feature, but either couldn't think of a story/angle to take for them, or ran out of time. (And these are quite exhausting, so I don't think I'll do more.) Some of the ideas that never made it to proverbial paper include:

Horde
The Gob Squad, Lilian Voss, High Warlord Cromush, Lakota Windsong, Orkus' frost wyrm mount, the Dragonmaw General in Twilight Highlands (who is the general from Netherwing Ledge!), Galen Trollbane, Heartrazor, Renee Lauer, the orcs at the Rocktusk Farm right outside Orgrimmar whose pigs get slaughtered for a cooking daily quest, Gretchen Dedmar

Alliance
Humprey Digsong, Minx, "Cookie" McWeaksauce, Donnely Dunwald, Loremaster Dibbs, Horatio Laine, Jack Bauden, Gwen Armstead, Hogger, Salsbury

Neutral
Ozruk, Initiate Goldmine, Brother Anton, Rhea, General Hawthorne, Leyara (or her daughter), Lunk, Pebble, everything related to the creepy crate, Chen Stormstout, the sparkle pony, Pandaren Monk, Zen'kiki or his druid trainer, Throngus, Coren Direbrew, Salhet, the Lashtail Hatchling, Forgemaster Finlay, Grent Direhammer,

Once again, I've gathered all the Letters and published them to a separate blog for convenience, which can be found at http://shatteredletters.blogspot.com.

And, here's a list of all the characters featured this year, in case you didn't realize a Letter was about or from them. :)

Grimclaw • Mylune • The Transmogrifier Ethereals
Gamon • Masha Cliffwalker • Neptulon • Elling Trias
Calder Gray • Jadaar • Jorgensen • Magatha Grimtotem
Briglar • Neltharion • Edwin VanCleef • Thisalee Crow
Former Auctioneer Wabang • Lieutenant Foxy Topper
Orgrimmar Thief • Millhouse Manastorm
Tobias Mistmantle • Lurid • Shaina Fuller, First Aid Trainer
Lynnia Abbendis

Frost DK optional talents in Dragon Soul

2011-12-07T16:57:00.000-08:00

One of the dilemmas Frost DKs may have encountered in Firelands was whether or not to put talent points into Chilblains (slows targets affected by Frost Fever) and Endless Winter (makes Mind Freeze cost no runic power).

Personally, I completely got rid of Endless Winter, since Alysrazor was the only boss with anything to interrupt, and it was simple to just make sure you had enough RP for interrupts. I did keep Chilblains, however, because it's amazingly useful for dealing with Beth'tilac's spiderlings.

So how useful will these talents be in Dragon Soul? Here is a chart of which fights you might use either of these abilities.

Dragon Soul Boss	Chilblains	Endless Winter
Morchok Yorsahj the Unsleeping Warlord Zon’ozz Hagara the Stormbinder Ultraxion Warmaster Blackhorn Spine of Deathwing Madness of Deathwing	No No No No No Yes No No	No No No No No No No No

...yeah. Pretty straightforward, haha. Get rid of Endless Winter for sure, and as for Chilblains? It depends on your raid comp. Definitely keep it if your raid lacks slow for dealing with the Twilight Sapper adds, since you'll be Howling Blasting them anyways. But if your raid has slows covered, or strong ranged DPS, you can probably skip Chilblains as well.

Minipost: The legend of Fabyoulore, part 1

2011-12-05T11:59:00.000-08:00

Note: this is a TRUE STORY. This ACTUALLY HAPPENED to me, it's not something I did or got someone else to do!

A while back, Fabulor was surprised to find this in his mailbox, with a Tasty Puffball attached.

To say he was uneasy would be an understatement.

To be continued...

Transmog: Orgrimmar Grunt

2011-12-04T17:34:00.000-08:00

Look closely at the Grunt on the left. He's wielding daggers. That's actually a rogue. Here's the all-leather Orgrimmar Grunt outfit. They're all random green drops, so check the Auction House!

Shoulders:
Chest:
Hands:
Waist:
Legs:
Feet:

Cabalist Spaulders
Sentinel Breastplate
Sentinel Gloves
Sentinel Girdle
Sentinel Trousers
Sentinel Boots

Hope [Letters]

2011-11-30T23:50:00.000-08:00

Hope.

Hope never dies.

I remember those words from my childhood, father. Even before I swore our sacred oath, I can recall sneaking into the Cathedral to watch you and the other crusaders, to get a glimpse of what awaited me when I was older. I vividly remember your friend, the man who used to say this, standing atop the rostrum, facing the assembled knights and paladins before him.

Alexandros Mograine was his name. He was a good man. A holy man, dedicated to eradicating the Scourge. I looked up to him, just as I did to you. I vowed that when I grew up, I would follow in the footsteps of heroes like you two, and devote my life to righteousness.

I still remember asking you, when I was a few years older and Mograine had passed, what the phrase actually meant. I didn't yet understand why the Crusade was so committed to our holy purpose, or comprehend the magnitude of our objectives.

"It means...it means we must never give up," you said, an odd wistfulness in your eyes. "Everything I do, everything I fight for...it is for you. All of us who wear the flame, we fight the undead because it is the right thing to do, but we also fight to make this world a brighter place for you, our children. It is our deepest wish that future generations will be able to walk this land free from fear, forever safe from the horrors of the Scourge.

"My sword will never falter, my arms will never tire in this fight, for I fight for tomorrow, for the new dawn that has yet to crest the horizon, full of limitless light and happiness. I fight for the new day, where shadows will not lurk around every corner, where children will not fear the monsters in the darkness.

I fight for the future...for peace. I fight for you, my daughter, so that you will not have to. You are the pure, the innocent. You are my hope, Lynnia."

It wasn't until after you died that I started to grasp what you had meant, father. Brigitte was beside herself with grief, but I saw the look on her face when we laid your body to rest in the Hall of Champions. I watched her take that grief and sorrow and turn it into an iron determination to live up to your name, to carry on your ideals, and to protect our family like you would have done.

As much as I grieved to lose you, father, I was so proud of her. She has never looked back, and has gone on to become one of our order's most celebrated, devoted champions. Her commitment to the Light was surpassed only by her intensity. Though she was the youngest of our commanders, she never let them push her around or exclude her from critical decisions. She was just like she always had been - fiery, fierce and unflinching. I could not ask for a stronger, more valiant sister.

She was everything you could have hoped for, father.

We spent a great deal of time together, whenever her duties permitted, talking about the order, about her many successful missions, about my life in the Monastery. It is only during these private times that I sometimes caught a glimpse of her tender, vulnerable side. She hid it very well.

For all her success and rapid rise through our ranks, it was easy to forget that Brigitte was only a few years older than myself. She maintained her bold, confident front in public, but I could tell that sometimes it wore on her, the pressure of living up to your expectations, of carrying on our name.

Secretly, I do not think she ever really forgave herself for your death. I sometimes heard her late at night when she thought no one else was around, chastising and berating herself over her carelessness, blaming herself for not seeing that Scourge ghoul rushing in, its blade bared.

I tried talking to her and explaining that it was not her fault, that your sacrifice should be remembered for your death, but for your heroism...but I don't she ever listened.

I also sometimes worried that she pushed herself too hard, but whenever I brought it up she would simply shake her head and insist that as long as the Scourge still threatened humanity, she could not rest. After all, you wouldn't have.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. Ever since mother died, she had always been stubbornly responsible. I remember how she used to look out for me and protect me when I was little. With you gone, I think she felt even more accountable for my safety, since it was just the two of us now.

With the increasing presence of the Scourge in Tirisfal, Brigitte decided that remaining at the Monastery was too dangerous, and so we traveled east to one of the last remaining bastions of purity in those scarred lands, untouched by undeath or plague - the Scarlet Enclave.

Together with High Abbot Landgren, Commander Marjhan and Lord Valdelmar, Brigitte fortified the towns of Tyr's Hand, Havenshire and New Avalon, and rallied the populace under the Scarlet banner. The Scourge footprint here in the east was weak and disorganized - the monsters roamed the hills unchecked, but they were scattered and disjointed. The Enclave stood bold and proud, a beacon of light amidst a sea of evil.

But then...the citadel arrived. And as the Lich King's terrible champions swarmed over New Avalon, butchering civilians and crusader alike, Brigitte knew the Crusade could not sit back and wait any longer. The horns of war had sounded, calling us north to the tyrant's chill domain. Our only hope for peace would be to follow, so that we might put an end to the Scourge's blight, once and for all.

Brigitte gathered the strongest and most faithful from our ranks to join her in this holy crusade. Many, like myself, wanted to go, but were told that we must stay behind to carry on the Crusade's legacy if the expedition should fail. She was truly in her element, father - bold, inspiring...she seemed invincible.

I prayed for her safety every night, and asked the Light to watch over her. My imagination ran wild with thoughts of the undead horrors and savage beasts that awaited her in Northrend. I knew she was strong, that she could take care of herself. And she had brought the Crusader's strongest, most devout champions with her. They would purify and cleanse this world of the Scourge's awful taint, then return home to be celebrated as saviors.

I doubted they needed my help, but I still prayed. I figured the extra help couldn't hurt. And it was all I could do for them.

But father, I should have focused my attention closer to home. For deep within our ranks, within the heart of the Crusade, lurked a nightmare beyond our wildest imaginations.

Father, you remember the venerable Grand Crusader Dathrohan? One of your staunchest friends, and most trusted companions. The heart and pillar of the order. I will always remember his kind, gentle face smiling down at me when I underwent my initiation and swore my oaths.

Everything he did was a lie.

It wasn't actually the Grand Crusader, father. It was a monstrous demon who called himself Balnazzar. He had walked among us for years, manipulating us, playing the Crusade like pawns in some sickening chess game.

I suppose I shouldn't blame myself for not recognizing the threat. How could I? He fooled everyone, even the older members of the order who were good friends with the Grand Crusader, such as yourself and Alexandros.

Still...if only I had noticed. Perhaps I could have done something. Warned someone. Told someone of what lurked among us.

Maybe we could have stopped him.

I wish I could say that we discovered the demon's identity on our own, father, after we had cornered him and cleansed us from his corrupting hand. But this was not the case. Once Brigitte and the rest of the order's warriors set sail for Northrend, the thing calling itself the Grand Crusader made its move.

I...cannot even describe exactly what the monster did, but every remaining person in the Enclave, from the youngest squire to the most grizzled, war-hardened veteran, felt a deathly chill fall over us. It was like every muscle in my body was clenching and seizing at the same time, rigid with agony, sawing through my sanity. I know I was screaming, but I could not hear myself, for all of Tyr's Hand was crying out with me.

Finally, blissfully, I felt the last ounce of strength leave my body. I collapsed to the floor and waited for oblivion...but it did not come.

His blasphemous sorcery...it had done what the Scourge could not. In the ultimate act of cruelty, Balnazzar had given form to a Scarlet Crusader's worst nightmare.

He had risen us from the dead.

A few of our warriors threw off their shock and moved to strike the demon down, but he just laughed and waved a hand. Suddenly, against our will, we found ourselves kneeling before him, unable to even lift our heads without his consent. He labeled us as his Risen...his own loyal brigade of soldiers who would battle his enemies for him.

And father...it wasn't just Grand Crusader Dathrohan. The field gleefully revealed that some of the Crusaders who had ventured north were like him, demons wearing human skin. Their goal? To sabotage our forces from the inside, and after they had been sufficiently expended and weakened, cripple our army by cutting down the commanders...such as Brigitte.

The city is in shock, father. We are trapped in our own sanctuary. Some of us still maintain the traditional patrols or day-to-day habits out of a dazed denial of our fate. But every time I look into a mirror, I see only a pale, withered face with torn skin stretched tightly over exposed bone staring back at me. He made us into monsters, father. Abominations. Travesties against the Light's natural beauty.

I spent every day deep in prayer to the Light. I still tell myself that I have faith, that perhaps a cure can one day be found. But in reality, I simply don't know what else to do. I am lost.

You are dead. My friends are dead. My beloved sister lies murdered in the icy north, betrayed by her own trusted companions, miles from home. The order I believed in, that I devoted my life to, has become a twisted mockery of its former glory, corrupted by demonic treachery and the terrible curse of undeath.

And the Light...the Light has abandoned us to our misery.

Hope never dies. That is what you always said, father.

I am Lynnia, proud daughter of Markus Abbendis, loving sister of Brigitte Abbendis.

I am a Scarlet Crusader.

I am the future. I am the dawn that will never arrive, the tomorrow that will never come.

I am the Fallen Hope.

Father...

...

You were wrong.

Show/Hide Letter Notes
This was the very first Cataclysm Letter I wanted to do. One of the first things I did after the Shattering hit was, for some reason, tour around the Plaguelands. I spent some time entertained by Gidwin and Tarenar, and then for some reason, ended up at Tyr's Hand, poking around and marveling at these new mysterious undead, called the Risen.

And then I found Lynnia Abbendis.

If I could define my ideal subject for a letter, it would be her. She's not a quest mob or story-relevant NPC or anything, being just a rare spawn (she actually replaces the old Abbendis rare spawn mob, which we now know was Brigitte Abbendis). But despite this, she has incredible plot and lore hooks.

First of all, ABBENDIS? Being a Scarlet Crusade member, she's clearly related in some way to Brigitte Abbendis and her unnamed father. Is she Brigitte's sister? Her daughter? What? We have no idea. But we do know the Silver Hand/Scarlet Crusade like to train their children to follow in their footsteps (see: Tirion Fordring, Alexandros Mograine, etc.), so the sudden appearance of another Abbendis is eye-opening, but not totally surprising.

But her title? Now that's getting somewhere. The Fallen Hope. That just SCREAMS anguish and despair. And how utterly appropriate, not just for the Scarlet Crusade (who is on its last legs in Cataclysm), but also for that particular branch of Scarlets, who have been corrupted into their worst nightmares, undead abominations.

Finally, what really sold me on Lynnia was that when you find her, she's not patrolling around or doing anything normal like that.

She's praying.

Wow. Now this was an amazing story, just waiting to be told.

So many questions! Who is she? Why didn't she go to Northrend with Brigitte? Why is she called The Fallen Hope? Why is she praying? Does she still retain her faith, even after Balnazzar turned them into undead?

It's all incredibly powerful potential.

I figured Brigitte wasn't old enough for Lynnia to be her daughter, and Lynnia became a sister. Probably a younger sister, too young and pure to go off to war with Brigitte, who was dedicated to filling their father's footsteps. So Lynnia would stay behind, where it was safe...or so they thought.

But what about their title? Was Lynnia, in life, someone's "hope"?

Ah, of course. What else would their father, and now, Brigitte, fight for with such fervor and dedication, but for the sake of the baby of the family? They hated the undead, yes, but what if the real reason they fought was to make the world a better, safer place for little Lynnia? You always hear a father or mother in fantasy tell their child how they are their sun, their redemption...their hope. It was all starting to come together.

But wait a minute. All this talk about hope. Wasn't there another famous Silver Hand champion who was always talking about hope? Oh that's right...it's the person who featured in the very first Letter I wrote, last year. Alexandros Mograine, and his inspirational line uttered to his son Darion: "Hope never dies."

It's a moving, emotional line, especially when you consider what Alexandros and Darion were both willing to sacrifice for each other. But what if Alexandros didn't just say it to Darion? What if he often said it to inspire his fellow Silver Hand (later Scarlet Crusade) allies? And what if one of those allies, Brigitte and Lynnia's father, was so moved by it, he started using it himself, saying it to his men? To his children?

What would Lynnia say to him now?

Still, Lynnia retains her faith, even when her father is dead, her sister is dead, and she's been reanimated by a demon in a cruel mockery of her former beliefs. Maybe the Light will still save her...eventually.

I don't suspect we'll hear anything else from Lynnia, but then again, you never know. I'd love it if she were to show up in Mists of Pandaria, with Heroic Scarlet Monastery.

She didn't have any story, plot hooks, or even dialogue, but damn if Lynnia Abbendis didn't win me over. Her story - or lack thereof - is exactly the type of raw gem I had in mind when I started the Letters. I couldn't ask for a more appropriate person to end with.

First Aid on My Heart [Letters]

2011-11-30T12:09:00.000-08:00

Patch 4.3 Undocumented Changes:
Angela Leifeld has replaced Shaina Fuller as Stormwind's First Aid Trainer.

Jarl Thelonius Benedictus,

I've had enough of your games, mister. You've been acting really funny lately, and I'm not going to let you play with my heart any longer. I'm beginning to think you're hiding things from me. I thought we had something really special, but you can't build a loving relationship without honesty.

I'm really hurt, hun. We've known each other for years, ever since you arrived in Stormwind all those years ago. I can still remember it vividly. You, a young, handsome priest rising quickly through the Church's hierarchy; me, a young nurse-in-training, studying to become a practiced medical assistant.

We locked eyes as Archbishop Faol was showing you around, and the blush that shot through your cheeks was so adorable. I thought it was cute, the way you hurriedly looked away and tried to concentrate on what Faol was saying, while still shooting me the occasional furtive glance when you thought I wasn't looking. You made it very hard for me to focus on my studies that day, that's for sure!

I was so pleased when the Cathedral of Light was finished, for as a full-time nurse, it meant I would be stationed nearby! I was hoping we could chat and get to know each other a little better. And you felt the same way! It was like fate had put us together, Jarl.

Of course, we had to keep our passion a secret. It wouldn't reflect well on the Church if it got out that the Archbishop was having a torrid romance with one of his understudies!

It wasn't easy, considering how public our respective occupations were. After all, you have been busy being Stormwind's spiritual leader, preaching the Light's doctrine and protecting Stormwind from horrible Elementals hell-bent on destroying the city. And I've been busy teaching people how to wrap scraps of linen around their cuts to stop the bleeding.

Truly, it is a thankless life we lead!

It was all worth it, though. It felt so nice just being near you every day, seeing your smiling face as you spoke to your many visitors and gave them your blessing. And I certainly enjoyed our private...sermons, when the Cathedral was quiet and we could sneak away to one of the back rooms for a few minutes. For a faithful believer of the Holy Light and an advocate of non-violence, you sure know how to use that staff of yours.

But you've been acting kinda strange lately. You've been rather distant and distracted. At first I assumed it was just stress, what with the King sending our soldiers off to war. I know how deeply you care about all of Stormwind's people, so I figured you were just having a rough time of it.

Then when you started leaving town, for "Holy missions", I couldn't help but notice that you tended to be much happier when you returned. You seemed refreshed, revitalized, with a glint in your eye and a newfound spring in your step. Whatever these missions were, they were having a very nice effect on you! I was relieved, even if I got pretty lonely whenever you were gone.

However, you've been getting these "missions" more and more frequently. I started wondering if there was something else going on here. Something you're not telling me? You seem all secretive and evasive whenever I ask you to tell me about these missions, brusquely telling me that they're "top secret" and then changing the subject. Furthermore, a few weeks ago I found little scraps of crumpled up paper in your wastebasket, with unusual names and places jotted down in your handwriting.

Jarl, are you seeing someone else?

I've been telling myself that no, I'm just being silly, but I'm really starting to think you're cheating on me. :( It's not only your mysterious absences and how uncomfortable you get when I bring them up, but you also get so restless and irritable now when you're back at the Cathedral, like you can't wait until the next time you can leave.

But last night was the last straw, Jarl. It was late at night, but I couldn't sleep because I'd been thinking about all of this. I was headed to your room to snuggle a bit when I heard you talking to someone in the antechamber - about a WOMAN!

I stood there in shock, out of sight, and heard how you were going to leave in a few days to go see some girl named Kiri. And then, to my shock, you started talking about how she was pregnant! And how you were THE FATHER! You bastard!

Who is this Kiri, Jarl? And what does she mean to you?! Are you having a secret tryst with her? Is she some elf trollop you've got secreted away somewhere, or maybe a draenei? What, am I too plain and mundane for you now? You've got to go out and check out the exotic options?

Tell me, Jarl! How could you do this to me!

You know, I thought I smelled something funny on you when you got back, the other week! It was a sweet, exotic scent, something that definitely was not normally found in the Cathedral. I noticed it right away. I even asked you about it, and you just brushed me off, joking that it was "probably the smell of dragon." You ass. A dragon, right. Well now I know the truth!

I'm terribly conflicted right now, Jarl. I went and had coffee with Jaxon today, and asked her what I should do. Part of me wants to climb a rooftop and /yell how we've been seeing each other for years, so that everyone will know what a dog you are. But Jaxon pointed out that while this would be immensely satisfying (and it would be), it would be very cruel to do to all the people who have suffered from this war and are looking to the Church for spiritual support.

Damn that Jaxon, always so practical and level-headed, even when it's not what I wanted to hear.

So I had a good cry and Jaxon cleaned me up a little, and I realized that as much as I would love to drag your name through the dirt, it wouldn't be fair to the rest of Stormwind. But you're not going to get away with this, you weasel. Oh no. Hell hath no fury!

I overheard when and where you were going to go meet up with your precious mistress, so I'm going to follow you and catch you in the act red-handed! I've already packed my things and asked Angela to fill in for me while I'm gone.

We'll see how you like it when the tables are turned! I want to see you and this Kiri tramp squirm!

Vengefully yours,

Show/Hide Letter Notes
When I read the Patch 4.3 Undocumented Changes on Wowpedia today, I was surprised to see "Angela Leifeld has replaced Shaina Fuller as Stormwind's First Aid Trainer." Now, I don't play Alliance, so I had no idea who either of these characters were. But it did strike me as very odd - why was this random, story-less (I checked) First Aid Trainer being replaced, all of a sudden?

Now, the obvious (and likely) reason is that her replacement, Angelia Leifield, is some sort of in-game tribute. As we all know, Blizzard does this quite a bit.

However, wouldn't it be much more amusing to imagine that Shaina actually had a lore reason to vanish? That she hadn't just been replaced, but had left on her own accord?

Well, what possible reason could there be for a First Aid Trainer to pack up her things and leave? Oh, she was in the Cathedral of Light? Say, isn't there someone else from the Cathedral who's ALSO gone "missing" in Patch 4.3? Oh that's right...Archbishop Benedictus, aka the Twilight Father.

The hooks were all there! His personality change, as he became more corrupted/committed to the Twilight Cult cause. His mysterious absences, as he was meeting with the cultists and receiving his orders. The suspicious Kiri, who is of course the blue dragon Kirygosa, who Benedictus imprisons in the Twilight of the Aspects novel.

If Shaina overheard Benedictus talking about how he had to go deal with Kiri, she might totally think he's not actually an undercover agent of evil, but just a horndog who's headed out to meet his mistress. Of course, there's also the fact that Kiri is PREGNANT, and what is Benedictus' title in the Twilight Cult? The Twilight Father. Oh, it was too perfect.

So there you have it. The true story behind Shaina Fuller's inexplicable and unexpected disappearance! Totes canon, yo.

Release [Letters]

2011-11-29T11:01:00.000-08:00

Thassarian, my "Master."

Where are you, master? Did you fall in battle like poor Lurid, defending this wretched city for your precious Alliance taskmasters? Lurid fought as you commanded, like usual. Human, undead, beast, Lurid fights whatever master tells Lurid to fight. Endlessly fighting, over and over again...Master and Lurid, always.

After all, Lurid is master's loyal servant. Master's trusted bodyguard. Master's tireless companion.

Master's slave.

Lurid did not ask for this "life", master! Lurid fought for the Alliance, for Unit S, and Lurid died bravely. Lurid was sad he died, but Lurid did not regret his choices. Lurid fought for what he believed in. Lurid was content. Lurid was at peace, going to the Light.

But you, master! You wrenched and tugged Lurid back from beyond, jammed Lurid into this monstrous shell of bone and death. And why? To have a battle servant to fight at your side? Master subjected Lurid to this torment simply to have a little undead friend?

Lurid tried to scream, to deny master's command, to beg master not to do this to Lurid. But Lurid was horrified to learn that the evil magic that brought Lurid back to life did not permit disobedience. All that came out of Lurid's gaping, grinning mouth was a simpering, wheedling "Yes, master" or "As you command, master."

Lurid can still think, can still see and hear, but Lurid cannot do anything except what master decrees, nothing more than a soulless, mindless puppet. Luried forced to fight against Lurid's will, do whatever master asks, and Lurid is powerless to resist. It makes Lurid want to curl up in a little ball and cry, but Lurid cannot even do that.

Does master know how awful that is? To have no control or free will - to be simply someone's unthinking, unwilling instrument of destruction?

What a stupid question. Of course master does. Master suffered through this too. Lurid hears the same story every night - master feeling sorry for himself and endlessly moaning about what the dread Lich King did to him. Lurid is so tired of hearing how the Lich King killed master, twisted his soul into an evil minion, how the Lich King forced master to do all sorts of terrible things against master's will. Master hates him, so much, for what he did.

And yet, master is willing to do the exact same thing to Lurid? Lurid doesn't understand. Lurid did not want to become this abomination, to be risen as an undead slave. Lurid simply wanted to rest. Instead, master imprisoned Lurid in this skeletal frame, and doomed Lurid to a horrible fate worse than death.

Master knows what it is like to be a slave. To be a monster. And master went ahead and did it anyway. Why would master make someone else go through this hell? Why would master be so heartless, so cruel? What kind of person would even do that?

Master is the worst person Lurid has ever met.

"Follow me, Lurid," master says. "The Lich King has made us what we are."

No, master! The Lich King did not do this to Lurid. YOU did this to Lurid! You and you alone, all by yourself, following right in the your master's footsteps. Lurid hates you for it, master.

Lurid hate you so much.

Thanks to you, master, Lurid does not even remember who he used to be. Lurid remember being human...fighting in Unit S...but Lurid cannot remember anything else! Lurid cannot even recall his own name. Lurid's memories, thoughts, identity...all gone now. Gone forever. Lurid is simply Lurid, the "name" master gave me.

How many lives has Lurid taken at master's command? Lurid does not even know. Too many to count. Lurid's entire existence has become a dull cycle of death and hate. Nothing else left anymore.

And it seemed like it would never end. Lurid can still remember when, after what seemed like years of being forced to do master's bidding, Lurid thought his blissful end had come. Powerful undead foes overpowered Lurid, and Lurid fell, destroyed and broken into shards of bone and rusted metal. Lurid could have cried with joy. Finally Lurid could rest, and not have to serve cruel, sadistic master any longer.

But Lurid was wrong. Lurid watched in horror as master coldly used his evil magic to piece Lurid back together, and deny Lurid his release once again. Not only that, but master then scolded Lurid like some unruly child! Lurid wanted to spit in master's face, to cut master in half...instead, Lurid's soul withered up inside, as rotted, rattling teeth coughed out pathetic, untrue words of gratitude.

Those words were like daggers in Lurid's soul. Lurid was NOT thankful! Lurid wanted master to die, to just stop torturing Lurid. But master's dark sorcery would not let Lurid even utter the words.

Master, why can't you just let Lurid rest in peace? Lurid has fought and killed for you, Lurid has done everything you have ever commanded. Please master...no more. Every day, as Lurid swing his axe and kill for master, all Lurid wants is to die. Just let Lurid die. Lurid pray for this every day, to any god or presence that might be listening.

However, Lurid may have gotten his wish. Does Lurid dare hope? Is this the end of Lurid's long torment?

Master brought Lurid to some ragged town, lots of fighting, undead, gargoyles, abominations. Lurid so tired inside, but of course master not let Lurid rest, oh no. Lurid thrown into battle again and again. But this time, master not fight alongside Lurid, instead run off. Lurid forced to fight alongside farmers and peasants. Lurid could tell they were as scared of Lurid as they were of the howling undead we fight. Lurid cannot blame them. Lurid's enemies are undead monsters...but so is Lurid.

Many of them fall. Lurid hopes master does not raise them as undead as well. Lurid would not wish this fate upon anyone.

Sadly, Lurid watches as the dead farmers ARE raised as undead. But not to help Lurid - they join Lurid's enemies! There too many for Lurid to kill alone, and they start to overwhelm Lurid. For the first time in years, Lurid feel a tinge of excitement in his empty ribcage. Lurid try to simply stop fighting, to let himself be killed, but wretched master's unholy hold would not allow it.

It didn't matter, though. Lurid was cut down and shattered, splintered on the cold ground. Lurid's foes moved on, leaving Lurid behind to stare up at the murky sky, rain dripping down into Lurid's empty eyesockets. No fighting, no pain. Just emptiness.

Lurid wait long hours for master to return...for master to put Lurid back together like a grotesque child's puzzle, again, as master has done so many times. But long time passes, and Lurid slowly start to wonder if master will be coming after all.

Master, are you dead? Is Lurid finally free of your grasp? Lurid did not expect to still be here, lying immobile in the mud. Lurid thought his soul would have left Lurid's broken body behind by now. Lurid cannot even move...but this is still better than being your slave.

Master, I hope so much that you are dead. Or that you have forgotten about Lurid. Please, Thassarian, please do not come back and enslave Lurid again. Lurid is so tired of fighting, of killing. Go get your revenge, master. Go fight your endless wars. Just leave Lurid out of it.

Let Lurid rest.

Show/Hide Letter Notes
A while back, someone suggested Lurid as a potential Letter candidate. I'd read the Death Knight manga, so I knew who Lurid was, and I knew you also find him dead in Cataclysm after the Andorhol quests, so I started wondering what Lurid would want to say, and to who.

It occurred to me with some unease that Thassarian's relationship with Lurid is actually pretty awful. I mean, Lurid is clearly sentient. He's capable of thinking and speaking, and following orders. And he always seems so adorably gung-ho when you meet up with him in quests, which makes a lot of players really like him, like he's some cute little dog or something.

But when you think about it? Lurid is actually the dead spirit of a fallen soldier, who Thassarian forcibly rose from the dead. And Thassarian forces Lurid to fight for him, and even when Lurid falls in battle, Thassarian simply raises him again.

What a TERRIBLE existence!

And really, is this not exactly what the Lich King was doing? Sure, Lurid seems all cheery and happy and pleasant. But is he really? He's an undead servant, who didn't have any choice about his fate. I doubt he's ACTUALLY pleased. More likely, it's the Scourge magic keeping him obedient and docile, just as it continues to animate his bones. Just like the Lich King's hold over his servants.

I know this probably isn't what my friend had in mind when they suggested Lurid for a Letter. But I think poor Lurid is just as sad a story as his master, if not more so. And no one ever talks about him. They just talk about poor, unfortunate, tragic Thassarian, whose story is oh so terrible and heartbreaking. Meanwhile, poor, loyal Lurid continues to serve (and suffer) in silence, with no one to tell his tale...to tell what he REALLY thinks of his situation.

Don't worry, Lurid. I got your back. (What's left of it...)

Minipost: Tirion is like the worst dad ever

2011-11-28T10:38:00.000-08:00

This picture has nothing to do with the following post. I just like using it.

Tirion Fordring is a lot of things. The Ashbringer. The chosen champion of the Light. The man who chose honor over all else, even when it cost him everything.

However, he's also the worst dad in history.

Now, I'm not talking about how he was willing to give up his wife and son Taelan for the sake of honor (though this is true).

Nor am I talking about how he came out of his exile and stopped living like a hermit, only to indirectly cause the death of his now-grown son at the hands of the Scarlet Crusade (though this is also true).

No, I'm talking about his actual, literal ability as a parent to watch over his kid.

I was in Old Hillsbrad last week taking screenshots and I figured while I was there I'd take one of young Taelan. I went to the inn, sure enough, there's Tirion down below with the rest of the Ashbringer crew. Go upstairs, search around...no Taelan.

Huh, that's weird. I could have sworn he was in the inn.

So I searched the other buildings. Nothing.

Chased the young Renault Mograine, Sally Whitemane and Jimmy Vishas around. Still no Taelan.

Finally, I tried to /target him. Aha! He WAS here, somewhere!

Now where was he...

...oh.

Umm...

Tirion? Maybe you should stop fooling around with that crystal and COME GET YOUR KID.

SERIOUSLY TIRION WHAT THE HELL

The Brothers Mistmantle [Letters]

2011-11-28T03:42:00.000-08:00

Note: the parchment pages pictured in this Letter are not Stalvan's letters to Tobias, but rather, letters to other people, or Stalvan's private thoughts, at different points in his life. The discrepancies between what Stalvan wrote in these, and what he wrote in the unseen letters to Tobias, which Tobias is responding to, are the point of this Letter.

Dear Stalvan,

Brother, it is so good to hear from you! Headmaster Crillian brought us your letter as soon as it arrived, and mother, father and I all gathered around to hear him read it. He read it twice, no, three times? Now he's helping me write this response. You know me, I never really was one for books and learning and writing - our teachers always did say you were the smart one! Guess they were right!

I must admit, when you first announced you would be traveling south to Stormwind so that you could continue your studies, I was apprehensive. It is such a long journey, especially for someone as young as you! Why, I think the farthest you'd ever been from home before was when we had to take the crops to Lordaeron because father was sick, and that was but a few hours' ride!

But you've definitely proved me wrong, little brother! It's great to hear you've arrived safely. We were all worried about you! Mom and dad have barely slept a wink since you've been gone - no doubt they were traveling the journey with you in their minds, imagining where you were and what you were doing. It's so nice to finally see them relax, knowing you arrived safely and are doing well.

And I bet you didn't expect this, but the whole village is buzzing about your travels! It's not often that someone actually manages to leave little old Pyrewood behind, but you set your heart to it, and by the Light, you did it.

It sounds like this Moonbrook is a nice place! What kind of produce do they grow there? Sorry, I know you wanted to get away from the boring talk of grain and harvests, but father wants to know. Ah, forget that nonsense! He's the only one who gives a crap, anyway.

You're tutoring children, your letter said? That's fantastic! Do they call you Mister Mistmantle? Mister Stalvan? Maybe Uncle Stalvan? You were always so quiet and withdrawn, but maybe being able to help and teach children was what you needed all along. Crillian is beaming, he's really happy his favorite student - wait, his apprentice - has followed in his footsteps.

Looks like all those years you spent with your nose stuck in a book have paid off, huh? Everyone always used to tease you about being a bookworm (even though I always gave them bloody noses for it), but look how things turned out! They're stuck sweating away in the fields, pushing plows and picking radishes, while you've traveled the world and visited faraway lands, gone to the big city and now you're getting your own schoolhouse!

Keep us updated on your life, brother! We're all so proud of you.

-Tobias

Stalvan,

Sorry to hear the Moonbrook thing didn't work out. Crillian brought us your latest letter, which said you'd had to relocate to Goldshire because of some unfortunate events in Westfall. That's really too bad, I know how excited you were about being able to teach in your own schoolhouse. But there'll be other opportunities, just wait.

Is everything alright? We don't really hear much news of what's going on down there, just the odd whispered rumor in the Lordaeron marketplace. Father caught wind of some sort of bandit uprising, something about a worker riot concerning Stormwind's reconstruction? Sounds pretty ugly. Was that what happened in Westfall? Damn bandits, making life tough for those of us who do honest work. Hope you managed to get out of there without being hurt or robbed.

Things have been pretty chaotic here, too. King Greymane actually cut all ties between Gilneas and Lordaeron! And get this - not only has he broken off from Terenas, but Gilneas is actually building an enormous wall separating their territory from Lordaeron's! And the wall is being built south of the village, even though we're Gilnean citizens.

Needless to say, everyone in the village is a little concerned. Does this mean we'll become Lordaeron citizens? Or are we still going to be Gilneans, separated from the rest of our nation? Maybe the wall is just a defensive measure? No one knows, and it's making everyone really worried.

Mother and father said I should leave the village and go live in Gilneas City, so I don't end up stuck outside in case relations between the two kingdoms continue to sour. I know they mean well, but I can't just leave them behind. Every day though, I see that wall reaching up into the sky, and I get a little more apprehensive about it. It's a huge thing, Stalvan - Greymane really means business this time.

I wish you were here. I could really use your advice. What do you think I should do?

I think I'll probably end up going. Truthfully, I've kinda had an itching to get out and do a little traveling, after seeing what you've done. Gilneas isn't exactly traveling across the continent like what you did, but it's bound to be more interesting than our little village. And mother wants me to go, so badly, so I guess I should make her happy.

You remember that family who lived across the street when we were kids? The Crowleys? Well, it turns out they're cousins to a noble family in Gilneas, and they're going to be relocating to Gilneas City next week. They told mother I could live with them until I get settled, if I wanted to go, so it's looking pretty likely at this point.

Anyway, good luck on getting a new job as a tutor, little brother! I have no doubt you'll be back on your feet in no time.

-Tobias

Hello Stalvan,

I'll have to keep this letter brief.

Elwynn Forest, eh? I've heard of it - it sounds like a really pleasant place to live. Good for you! And I'm glad to hear you got a new teaching job with that noble family. I knew it wouldn't take you very long! Do you like private tutoring more than being a school teacher? It sounds like you would get to know your students a lot better, with only a handful of them.

Anyway, Gilneas City is really nice. It's huge, and the buildings and streets are so much more decorative than Pyrewood. It's quite a change, living in a major city and not a little farming village. But I'm getting used to it.

What I wanted to tell you though, was that things have gone just like mother feared - Greymane is extremely mad at Terenas and Lordaeron, and once the wall is finished (it should be done in a month or so) he's going to completely cut off all contact to those beyond the wall...including our parents.

Don't worry though, I made a trip out there just the other week and they're doing well. They're both healthy and said to send their regards. And the farm is flourishing, so much so that father was able to hire some local kids to help him with the heavy labor.

I'd love to still be able to write to you, though, so I asked one of Greymane's court magi to help me out. I had to beg and plead, since Greymane's firmly against what I asked him to do, but in the end he relented. I think even Greymane's inner court thinks their king's isolationist attitude is a little bizarre and unreasonable, but they don't want to openly oppose him - he's pretty intimidating.

You remember our family rings, that father gave us when we turned fifteen? You used to proudly wear yours all the time - I assume that's still the case. I do too, and so these rings have been imprinted with our essences. If you want to send me any future letters or correspondence, just write it down, then roll up the paper into a tube and slide your ring down onto it. I'll feel my ring get warm, and all I have to do then is roll up some blank parchment, pop the ring on, and it'll magically duplicate whatever you wrote!

Ah, the wonders of being neighbors with Dalaran. It's a shame Greymane is bent on cutting Gilneas off from the rest of the world. I suppose he has his reasons.

Remember to send your next letter through our rings! Pretty soon any normal correspondence won't make it past the wall, so this will be the only way we'll be able to stay in touch.

-Tobias

Dear Stalvan,

Did I read that correctly? My little brother found himself a girlfriend? Congratulations! She sounds like a real sweetheart. Mother and father would be so happy for you, too!

How is her family taking it, though? I don't mean to burst your bubble, but didn't you mention that she was already arranged to be married? I'm not sure how those things work, but I'm guessing that her would-be suitor's not too happy. Oh well, too bad for him! I'm sure once her family sees how in love the two of you are, they'll be all too happy to cancel that silly tradition. Who still does that, anyway?

It's cute to hear how sweet the two of you are. It's a good thing, too! Or else I was going to recommend making a trek up to Dalaran so you could get them to mix you up a love potion! Haha, but I can see that's not necessary at all. Besides, I doubt those uppity mages would actually do something like that.

It's too bad I'm stuck behind this wall, though, or I'd hop over to Dalaran and toss a coin in their wishing fountain for your happiness! Shame, really - I hear that fountain is more than just a normal, everyday fountain. It would only be a few hours ride for me, but you'd have to travel for days just to get here. Ah well, you two lovebirds sound like you don't need it, anyway.

Give my regards to the future Mrs. Mistmantle!

-Tobias

Dear Stalvan,

I have terrible news. Lordaeron has fallen to a horrible army of the undead. We are still cut off from Lordaeron, Silverpine and Hillsbrad, so we don't really know exactly how this came to be, but awful noises started faintly echoing from over the wall about a week ago. Inhuman, bestial noises...unlike anything I have ever heard before. I still hear them in my dreams, and they are the sounds of nightmares.

Not long after that, the cries for help started.

There must have been dozens of them. Men and women, elders and children, all had flocked to the wall, fleeing the undead monsters that had ravaged Lordaeron. We could hear their desperate pleas for help, could feel the panic and terror in their voices. We went to Greymane, imploring him to open the gates and let in these poor victims.

He refused.

Greymane refused, little brother. He would not budge, but instead insisted we let those outside succumb to their awful fate. We screamed at him to relent, to change his mind, but he stubbornly refused. He said it was to protect the safety of the kingdom, but what kind of kingdom would allow its neighbors to claw futilely at their door while monsters butchered them?

Many of us went home sickened that day. I was too shocked to be angry. I saw Crowley cursing up a storm, for he still had many friends who had been left outside the wall, in Pyrewood. Like our parents.

The Scourge swept through Silverpine and destroyed everything, Stalvan. And you know father. He would never abandon his farm, not even if the world itself was cracking in two. It was his life's work. And mother would never leave him.

Every day, I went to the wall. I hoped not to hear their voices coming from the other side - maybe some of our old neighbors had convinced them to flee - but I had to. I had to know.

And then...one day, I heard them.

They were tired and exhausted, and I had never heard such fear or panic in their voices...but it was them. I knew instantly, in my heart, that they were on the other side of that damned wall. Only a few yards of mortar and wood stood between us. Between life and death. It was agonizing.

I shouted until my voice was hoarse, calling out to them. I yelled at them to leave, that Greymane was not going to open the wall. Maybe, just maybe, if they left right away, they could still slip away before the undead horde arrived from the north.

They heard me, eventually. But it was too late.

They cried, Stalvan. From dread, yes, but more because we were safe and would not suffer their fate. I told them we would never forget them, that I would tell you what had happened. And I told them that some day, I would go find you and we would come back to lay them to rest.

I stayed at the wall as long as I could. They were exhausted, but I could feel their presence on the other side.

Then, the Scourge came.

Father saw them first, I think. The people camped outside started to scream and cry, but I heard his voice clearly, as though he were right next to me. "Go, Tobias," he said. "Go now. Don't let this be your last memory of us. We love you, son."

I didn't want to leave them, but I understood. I didn't want to hear what was about to happen. It was bad enough knowing. I think hearing it would have driven me mad.

It's been a few days since then. The ache in my heart has dulled some, replaced by rage. I've spoken with Crowley, and others who are just as incensed as I am. Greymane has gone too far, this time. Isolation is one thing, but abandoning our former neighbors? Our former friends? Our FAMILY? No, this is too much.

He'll pay for what he's done.

I'm sorry to dump this in your lap, brother. But I had to tell someone. And I had to tell you what happened to our poor parents. Say a prayer for them, for they walk with the Light now.

Your brother,
Tobias

Stalvan,

It's been over a year since I've heard from you. I hope all is well. Did you and that Tilloa girl get married yet?

Things in Gilneas have...well, where do I even begin. We - that is, Lord Crowley, myself, and a number of other Gilneas outraged over Greymane's abandonment of those trapped outside the wall - formed a resistance group and started to rebel against his rule. We'd had enough of his tyranny, and one way or another, he had to be stopped.

It was a violent, bloody affair, Stalvan. Many lives were lost, and I saw countless friends and acquaintances - on both sides, mind you - lose their lives. But every time I started having doubts about our cause, I just had to think of mother and father, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to for help, and my heart hardened. I know you'd have done the same thing were you here, brother. We Mistmantles don't forget nor forgive betrayals lightly.

Sadly, the fight against Greymane wasn't going very well for our side, and a large number of us - myself and Lord Crowley included - were captured and imprisoned. However, something happened that made both sides put aside their differences and band together.

I know, it sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it? One that you might read to your young students. But this was no happy story. A terrible curse broke out in Gilneas, and people started transforming into these horrible, savage wolf-men. We coined them worgen. The affliction spread through the population like wildfire - the disease spread through blood, so any time the worgen attacked, anyone who survived was doomed to become a worgen themselves if they had suffered but the merest scratch.

Greymane freed our forces from jail, and we tried to fight back the worgen...but there were too many. They were everywhere. Crowley, myself and a few others held a last stand at Gilneas City's Cathedral so that the worgen would come attack us, and let the last wave of fleeing citizens escape. It worked, maybe too well. We were overwhelmed and...

Stalvan, I was infected.

My last conscious thought was that I hoped my injuries would kill me, rather than condemn me to live the rest of my days as a savage, brutal beast. But to my surprise, when I awoke I discovered that though I was now a monstrous worgen, I still had control over my own actions. It turns out that Greymane's court alchemist, a man named Krennan Aranas, was able to devise an elixir that would let us keep the beast within at bay.

Furthermore, we also received help from the night elves, who had a great deal of knowledge and expertise about overcoming the worgen curse. I wouldn't find this out until later, but the elves were working closely together with Greymane, and later Crowley. I had never seen a night elf before, but I was impressed by their compassion and knowledge. Have you encountered any in your travels? Perhaps during your time in Stormwind? They are an amazing people, and I owe them a great deal.

However, even with the worgen curse seemingly defeated, other calamities soon arose. You are no doubt aware of the massive earthquakes that shook the land recently? These tremors shattered Greymane's precious wall, and soon our nation was at war once again. Not with ourselves, this time, but by the walking dead. It seems the Scourge hadn't been idle outside our doorstep. Now they called themselves the Forsaken, and led by their vicious queen, an undead elf ranger, they butchered many of our people and tried to conquer Gilneas.

We fought hard against these undead monsters, but their insidious war machines and wretched poison blight were simply too much for us. We were forced to flee Gilneas, and sought refuge in the faraway night elf capital Darnassus.

It is ironic, isn't it? I wanted to travel and see the world...just not like this.

However, things have brightened somewhat as of late. It took a great deal of diplomacy and apologies by Greymane, but he has finally managed to mend the broken bridges between himself and King Varian Wrynn. Greymane has joined the Alliance! No more isolation or stubborn independence. I don't think I will ever be able to forgive the man for condemning mother and father to death at the hands of the Scourge, but at least he is smart enough to realize his past mistakes and admit his failings.

But, anyway, that is all in the past now, little brother. Did you realize what this means? We are allies and friends to Stormwind now! Stormwind, and Westfall, and Redridge, and Duskwood. All of these fall under Wrynn's banner. I can finally come visit you!

I'm sending this letter ahead of me, for I still have to help Greymane and the other Gilneans settle into our new home in Darnassus. And the priestesses are still helping those of us afflicted with the curse, making sure that we are able to master the feelings of rage and violence that now lurk in our hearts. But as soon as I am able, I intend to catch a ship to Stormwind and come find you. It has been so long since I've looked upon your face, Stalvan! We have a lot of catching up to do. I hope Tilloa won't mind.

See you soon, brother.

Show/Hide Letter Notes
I have the sneaking suspicion this will be one of those Letters that only makes sense to me, and anyone who has done both the old Stalvan quests, and the new ones. Ah well, so be it.

The Legend of Stalvan quest series was always one of my favorite storylines, pre-Cataclysm. It was awful, yes, but it was amazingly well done. Few other quests in the game have evoked that same sort of slow, building dread as you progress through the quests, slowly uncovering page after page penned by Stalvan, battling restless spirits, talking to NPCs who grimly shook their heads at the bad memories...it was a terribly frightful experience. I remember being genuinely startled when I was attacked by a ghost in Stormwind's canal district, because I assumed that - being in a city - I would be completely safe. Great questline.

Of course, it's all changed now in Cataclysm. In fact, the actual murder mystery questline is gone completely. Now, Tobias Mistmantle is there in Duskwood, quite confused about what's happened to his brother, since no one in town will tell him. And you have to go track down the pages of "The Legend of Stalvan" (which is a collection of all the letters/journal entries from pre-Cata), much to the town clerk's regret.

Then, at the end, you have to help a grim, horrified Tobias summon Stalvan from the grave at Manor Mistmantle, where you killed him in the old questline, so Tobias can learn the truth about his beloved brother. Poor Tobias wants so much for everything to be a lie...but of course, it isn't. It's all true.

In a way, I miss the suspense and fear that came with the old quests, but the new ones are pretty powerful, too, just in a different way. Fetching the pages is silly - really nothing more than courier/retrieval quests, and though the clerk grows increasingly nervous about your mission, it's nothing like the true horror of the old storyline.

But when Tobias confronts Stalvan...that is a tremendously gut-wrenching little conversation. Poor Tobias. Not only was his brother really a murderer, but the fact that Stalvan would taunt Tobias so about his worgen condition, and essentially force Tobias to kill his own brother...it's pretty crazy. I mean, the worgen have it bad enough already trying to contain the curse's rage, and to be betrayed by your own brother like that? Tobias just can't catch a break, can he.

The fact that Stalvan would provoke Tobias, and mock him with his dying breath by saying they were the same, and Tobias' horrified denial at what he had just done...well, it really goes to show what a wretch Stalvan truly was.

That scene in Manor Mistmantle is probably one of my favorite moments in all of Cataclysm. In fact, my dwarf never handed the quest in, instead keeping Tobias' ring so I can go back and watch it again whenever I want.

As for the Letter itself, I debated how I'd do this one for weeks. I couldn't come up with a good connection between the two brothers' vastly different origins. I mean, the timeline alone was a nightmare! Did Stalvan leave Silverpine before the Greymane Wall was constructed? When did the Scourge outbreak occur? When did Stalvan commit his heinous murders? When was he killed by adventurers, compared to what was going on in Gilneas at the time? All of these are unknown.

In the end, I decided that focusing on Stalvan's numerous letters/journals already existing in-game would be the safest bet, and that I'd put the Mistmantles as originally from Pyrewood, giving a clear timeline (before the Greymane Wall, for Stalvan) and add to Tobias' personal grudge against Greymane, since his parents could be some of the ones trapped outside the wall when the Scourge came.

It would make a lot of sense for Stalvan, who clearly likes writing, to send frequent notes home. In his first letter, he is clearly excited to be out in the world and traveling, and seems young and carefree. You get the impression that he's led a sheltered life, and that everything is new and exciting to him.

So naturally, when he (in his mind) discovers "true love" in Tilloa, it would only make sense that he would write home about it. And not only would he write home and mention her, he'd probably - in his excitement - exaggerate, and make it sound like they were madly in love, and dating/engaged. He probably wouldn't have mentioned her young age, either, since it wouldn't matter to him. So Tobias would have no idea that Tilloa is actually a young girl, nor would he realize how foolish/naive his brother's infatuation really was. He's only going off what Stalvan wrote him, after all.

Of course, once the Greymane Wall was finished any future letters wouldn't reach Tobias...so a little cheat with the ring was necessary. Since both brothers wore those rings, and clearly cherished them, I figured that was as good a route to take as any.

As for the sadness with the Mistmantle parents being outside the wall, and poor Tobias being there and knowing they're doomed...that came out of NOWHERE. I was just going to have their fate be "unknown, presumed dead", but it didn't feel as solid to me. I thought Tobias needed a real, undeniable reason to hate Greymane enough to join up with Darius Crowley, so dead parents it was.

Impending Doooooom! [Letters]

2011-11-27T18:39:00.000-08:00

To the great mighty Old Ones,

Your humble servant, the mighty Millhouse Manastorm, has survived where all others have fallen! Everyone else - Cho'gall, Corla, High Priestess Azil, even that cretin Drahga Shadowburner - didn't know when to cut and run, and they paid the price for their recklessness! Fortunately, prison taught me one very important lesson - SURVIVAL! Unlike those imbeciles, I quickly realized when we were outmatched, so I figured a tactical retreat was in order so that I could escape and warn you about how those louts dropped the ball!

To be honest, I really have no idea how they managed to botch things up so badly, masters. Everything was going great! We had the fragment of the World Pillar safe and secure, Lorthuna was all set to blow the Temple of Earth to smithereens, and we even managed to sway one of Therazane's kiddies to our side to help us defend the Stonecore!

Things were proceeding exactly as planned...and yet, somehow, the Earthen Ring didn't end up as stains on the rocky floor, but instead they killed Lorthuna! They weren't pushed out of Deepholm or crushed to bits, but instead they stomped right into the Stonecore, looking to wipe us out! I lit 'em up good, but I'm only one magical genius! They had me outgunned and outgnomebered.

I couldn't zap them all, so I lured them over to Corby's tunnels, hoping the gyreworm would pop out and crush them. Corby's been steaming mad ever since Deathwing left, so why not let him take out his frustrations on these heroic saps? It was a great plan!...except I may have slightly misjudged the distance from his cavern, and when he burst out of the ground, I might have gotten knocked over the edge down to where Deathwing had all those metal plates attached.

My bad.

But hey, no biggie! I figured the big rock worm, the big rock dragon and the big rock elemental would be enough to stop the invaders, or at least, weaken them enough for Azil to mop up. I wasn't worried for a second! It took me a long time to make my way back up (Deathwing didn't exactly build any exit stairs, especially not gnome-sized ones), so imagine my shock when I saw everyone dead or lying in rubble on the floor!

Even Azil had failed. I don't know how! All she had to do was crush them with those huge boulders she was so found of tossing around. How can you go wrong with giant rocks? What in Bonzo's brass buttons was she doing?? I'm baffled, mighty ones. Just baffled.

Anyhoo, now look at us - scattered and fractured, with our grasp on Deepholm - and, I've heard, the rest of the world - weakened and defeated! Those nincompoops! This never would have happened if I'd been in charge! But noooo, nobody listens to the gnome! I warned them!

It's really not surprising, I guess. For a cult dedicated to total global annihilation, those guys could be so shortsighted! (No pun intended.) They just never understood how dedicated I am to your cause, mighty ones. And now look at them. Dead. Stabbed. Puddles of mush. But not me! I am invincible!

Besides, those brats had the nerve to call themselves your servants? After they flocked to your call, scared and whimpering after the planet got a little crumbly and rumbly? Hah! Rookies! No wonder they blew it. Should've let me handle things. I'm old school, baby! After all, I've been yours ever since I ended up trapped in that silly space prison with Harbinger Skyriss, years ago! I'm not only older, smarter and more experienced than those kids - I've got tenure. Yeah!

It's kind of funny, looking back. As for as cellmates go, Skyriss was sure annoying. All he would do was talk about his allegiance to powers untouched by time, unmoved by fate, that kinda thing. It was interesting at first, but by the tenth time I heard I just wanted it to shut up so I could get some sleep! You ever tried sleeping on a bed made out of glowing blue crystal while a fifty-foot green bug thing was droning on and on next door about tastes of chaos and undreamed-of horrors? I didn't get a decent night's rest for a month!

Really not much of a conversationalist, either. You get pretty bored when you're stuck in a cell, especially when you're someone as bombastic as myself. But whenever I tried to break the monotony with a little banter, I got the impression Skyriss wasn't really interested in chatting. Either that or he's just really socially inept. I'd ask him what it did for a living, he'd tell me that I was a weakling and I'd do his bidding. I tried asking him if he had any family, he'd reply that he was one of infinite multitudes. That doesn't even make sense!

In the end though, he made a pretty convincing argument. The things he told me about you guys, well, it kinda blew my mind. He told me about the ancient stuff with those gross bugs down south in Silithus, and how you guys were all buried deep underground just waiting to be freed. Pretty heavy stuff!

I had a lot of time to think about what he told me, and I swear I heard and dreamed about you even while I was sleeping! Maybe you were already whispering to me, telling me what to do! (Or maybe it was just stupid Skyriss whispering through the cell walls in the night...that bozo.)

In any case, Millhouse Manastorm might be a lot of (awesome) things, but he's no fool! I could see the writing on the wall. Big things were coming, and I sure as heck wanted to be a part of them! I didn't want to miss out on this chance to join the winning team!

Anyway, things might look pretty bad right now, masters, but we haven't lost yet. We've still got the Twilight Father doing his sneaky stuff over in Stormwind, and of course the big D's still out there, doing...well, whatever it is he does. Burning things, I guess? I don't really know but I'm sure it's really bad. So some of our biggest cards are still in play!

Plus, of course, I'm still here! Those silly heroes think they got rid of me, but it'll take a lot more than a little fall to get rid of the almighty Millhouse Manastorm! Before Corby knocked me over the edge, I was really working them over. They'll probably flee in panic once they see that I survived and am now out for revenge! I'm their worst nightmare!

And I've been working on something super special, just for this occasion, oh yeah! An extra large can of whoop-ass, double-M style! I gotta thank you, masters, for granting me the wisdom and imagination to come up with this one. It's a real doozy! You guys are gonna love this!

I call it: Impending Doooooom! Just wait until you see this baby in action! This spell will deliver a strike so diabolical, I'm unable to even accurately describe it in words! And my victims, they won't even be able to understand the full effect of as its blinding brilliance washes over them like a tidal wave of devastation!

I warned them not to mess with me. They're gonna be sorry!

So, masters, just let me know what you want me to do and I'll do it! Consider me your personal magic cannon - aim me at something and light the fuse, and LOOK OUT! Want me to blow up Orgrimmar? No prob! How about Stormwind? Wait, maybe not Stormwind. The Father's there and I'm guessing he'd be pretty bad mad if I blew him up. How about Ironforge instead?

Who's bad? Who's bad? That's right: we bad!

Show/Hide Letter Notes
Of all the returning faces that showed up again in Cataclysm, Millhouse Manastorm had to be one of the most surprising ones. We hadn't seen him since his random appearance in the Arcatraz back in Burning Crusade, and suddenly here he was as a high-ranking member of the Twilight Cult? How bizarre!

I was glad to see that he kept his awesome attitude, as we see in Stonecore as he fights, taunts and flees a few times before Corborus emerges and knocks him over the cliff edge. It really is funny that he actually attempts to cast Impending Doooooom! a few times before meeting his (apparent) demise.

Of course, this is WoW - if you don't see a body, they're not dead. (Of course, even if you DO see a body, and cut its head off, they're not necessarily dead. But I digress.) Was Millhouse killed in the fall? Well...why? It's just a fall. He definitely could have survived, especially since he's a...hybrid mage/warlock. O_O (Seriously, he casts Shadowfury, Fear, and Frostbolt Volley.)

Also, this seems like an abrupt, out-of-nowhere heel turn (switch to the bad side)...but is it really? After all, Manastorm WAS directly connected to a powerful agent of the Old Gods in the past - Harbinger Skyriss. Who's to say how long they spent locked up together in the Arcatraz? I joke about it in the Letter, but if Skyriss was constantly whispering Old God mutterings to Manastorm, who couldn't do anything to stop it or block it out, it very likely could have twisted him up mentally. Also, Skyriss is clearly a pretty potent Old God servant - maybe just exposure/proximity to it would have been enough to corrupt Manastorm, or at the very least, plant a seed of Old God touch within him.

As for the Letter itself, I tried to work as much of Manastorm's personality into his words as possible. Everything about this gnome screams brash, cocky and energetic. (And funny.) It's one of the reasons he was so popular.

I pictured him writing this letter, getting more and more excited as he went, maybe giving little fist pumps or verbal shout-outs to himself as he wrote. He may now be a member of a doomsday cult and completely dedicated to evil, but that doesn't mean he'd be any less fun.

Stealing to Survive [Letters]

2011-11-27T04:59:00.000-08:00

Me dear wife,

I can't stand by no more and do nothin', not while da little ones go hungry. It be breakin' me heart every night when I see dere wee little sad faces lookin' up at me, wit' empty bellies and empty plates in dere hands. Not anymore. I gotta provide for me family, one way or another.

I know ya been tellin' me not ta do dis, dat da Warchief be sure ta have me head if he hear what I done. And ya, ya be right. I know he be madder dan a pit full o' sand vipers if he catch word. But what what choice do we got?

Sometimes I be wonderin' what da Horde really tink o' us, and what it still be holdin' for us Darkspear. It sure ain't been da same since Thrall stepped down and named Hellscream as da new Warchief. Thrall, he always honored da Darkspear and treat us wit' da respect we deserve, but Hellscream...well, good on ol' Vol'jin ta tell dat whelp how it is, and what we tink o' him. Dat youngster just ain't cut out ta be leader an' we all know it.

'Course, Hellscream ain't one ta let Vol'jin's words go unpunished, nah. Never thought I'd see da day when da Darkspear be relegated ta some corner o' Orgrimmar like a bit o' trash ta be tossed aside. Us, we who helped da Horde in its earliest days, when Thrall an' Cairne was still wanderin' da land lookin' for a home! We helped 'em and dey helped us, dat's what da Horde was all about. Da centaur, da murlocs, even da Alliance, none o' dem able ta stand against us.

But den Hellscream, he get in one little squabble wit' Vol'jin and suddenly he decide da Darkspear don't belong wit' da rest o' da Horde? Dat we be "too weak" and don't deserve ta live in da main part o' da city?

Not part o' da Horde? We helped MAKE da Horde! Da Darkspear been part o' da Horde long before Hellscream ever even set foot on Azeroth, and he got da nerve ta say dat ta us? It make me blood boil just tinkin' about it.

But Vol'jin, he be mad too but he tell us we gotta endure and deal wit' it, not cause he be scared o' Hellscream, but for da sake o' da Horde. He trust Thrall, even if he don' agree wit' namin' Hellscream as Warchief. And he know if we were ta start fightin' amongst ourselves it be just settin' us up for da Alliance ta swoop in and get us. I hear da human king gotta powerful hate o' da Horde, an' no doubt he be just lovin' a chance ta catch us off our guard.

So we grumble about it a bit, but in da end we listen da Vol'jin, and pack up our tings and move ta da Valley o' Spirits. It not be dat bad, really. Already a couple o' da tribe who always lived dere, and it be actually kinda quiet and relaxin', away from da noise and bustle o' da bank and auction house. In fact, da little ones actually like da new home better, since dey can run aroun' and play and not get in da way o' any guards or grunts.

I guess tings weren't so bad at first. Not quite da same, but not da worst. We probably coulda lived like dis, acceptin' Hellscream's insults for da sake o' da Horde.

But dat was before dey started stealin' our food.

Da first time I saw someone diggin' around in our rice barrels, I thought it be just a fellow member o' da Horde who be needin' an afternoon snack. But den more and more o' dem started showin' up, just walkin' up and takin' whatever dey wanted! Do dey not realize dat we be needin' dat rice?

A few o' us confront one o' da looters, a lil elf girl. She just shrug an' say dat she just be doin' what Hellscream's infantry chef tell her ta do...dat da Horde needed more food ta feed da troops, and our rice be what he need ta finish da job.

Bad enough dat Hellscream shove us all in a corner where he don' have ta tink about us, but now he be tellin' people ta come help demselves ta our food? It not be like we gotta lot o' extra rice ta spare - we barely got enough for us, let alone da Horde's soldiers. How can Hellscream or dis Marogg expect us ta feed da troops when we got nothin' o' our own?

I go and ask 'em dis, but dey just brush me off and tell me ta stop complainin', dat it be necessary for da Horde, dat dey need supplies and rations ta fight da Alliance. And Hellscream, he just roll his eyes when I try tellin' him we can't spare da rice. "Stop whining," he say, a sneer on his ugly mug. "Be thankful I even permit you weaklings to live in my city, out of respect for Thrall's wishes." I try explainin' again, dat if our rice be taken we gonna start starvin', but da guards just shove me out o' da room and tell me ta leave.

So I got no choice, ya see. I don't wanta make a big fuss or nothin', but da little babies, dey gotta eat. I been watchin' Marogg and I been watchin' where he be puttin' da crates of rations ta be shipped out. Tonight I gonna sneak up and take a few packs. Not a lot o' course, just enough so we can eat and feed da children. Way I figure it, it be Darkspear rice anyway, so we be entitled ta get our fair share, ya? And maybe when Hellscream see how desperate we are, he be realizin' how much we really do need dat rice.

See ya tonight, dear. For da first time in months, da little ones gonna go ta sleep wit' dere little tummies full. I not be wantin' ta be a thief, but a troll gotta do what a troll gotta do.

Love ya.

Show/Hide Letter Notes
One of the more interesting changes in Cataclysm was how the trolls in Orgrimmar had been relocated to the Valley of Spirits, separated from the rest of the Horde. This of course is a result of the angry words exchanged between Garrosh and Vol'jin, where Vol'jin insults Garrosh and basically calls him a hotheaded fool. As a result, Garrosh orders the trolls out of his throne room and orders them to go live in the slums.

For the most part, you don't really notice. The trolls are off in their own area, but it seems actually rather convenient, since they have their own bank, auction house and trainers, just like the goblins (also in the Valley of Spirits) and the tauren over in the Valley of Wisdom. It seems that everything is fine.

Until you start doing the daily cooking quests, and notice an odd discrepancy between thes two quests pictured above.

First, Marogg , an orc, tells you to go blatantly steal the trolls' rice to feed the Horde troops. He doesn't seem to feel any guilt or remorse about stealing their food, and rather, is quite pleased to have "easy access" to their supplies. When you hand in the quest, he says "Don't worry, we will return the rice once we are done...or not."

By itself, this isn't too bad. It's a little underhanded, sure, but no harm done, right? And it's for the Horde war effort...so maybe it's a necessary evil.

But then you get the other cooking daily where you have to go kill the thieves that are stealing the rations. The immediate irony between killing these food thieves, while you yourself ARE a food thief, is very obvious. But it only gets worse when you realize that the thieves are exclusively trolls and goblins (who were also relegated to the slums). And you then realize that the people stealing the rations aren't greedy or evil...they're simply taking back the food that YOU stole from THEM to begin with!

It's a subtle, understated storyline, but one that really illustrates the uneasy relationship between the Horde races right now. And it shows how Garrosh's Horde really doesn't care about the trolls at all right now, and basically just abuses/exploits them. It's pretty sad, and infuriating, really.

It also makes for a great Letter.

After all, I imagine the poor, nameless "Orgrimmar Thief" characters have a very good reason for stealing the food. They need it! They need it to feed their poor families who are now going hungry due to Marogg's heartless thefts. And they probably don't want to start any open rebellion or attack anyone, or anything extreme like that. All they want is a little food, just enough to survive.

Of course, the true tragedy of their story is that we already know what happens to these thieves, even though they are only stealing because they are hungry and desperate. They get killed (by us!) and are regarded as criminals by the general Horde population. :(

Non-Raid Transmog Weapons: Two-Hand Axes

2011-11-26T19:26:00.000-08:00

There seems to be no shortage of cool looking two-hand axes, so here is a huge list of some awesome choices. Lots of options!

Non-Raid Two-Hand Axes
	Ghostly Battle Axe Required Level: 66 Source: Bind-on-Equip This interesting-looking axe comes in a few different color schemes.
	Lucky Strike Axe Required Level: 57 Source: Bind-on-Equip
	Ogre Splitting Axe Required Level: 61 Source: Bind-on-Equip
	Razorwind Broadaxe Required Level: 77 Source: Bind-on-Equip This unremarkable axe is actually pretty detailed, and should be fairly easy to obtain. It shares a model with Angerfang Broadaxe, Bladefist Broadaxe, Rustmaul Broadaxe and Splinterspear Broadaxe, all green quality and Bind-on-Equip axes.
	Arcanite Reaper Required Level: 58 Source: Blacksmithing This classic axe is commonly seen on Warlock Felguards, and as its heirloom cousin, the Bloodied Arcanite Reaper (purchasable for 3500 JP or 95 Champion's Seals).
	Nightfall Required Level: 60 Source: Blacksmithing A fiery recolor of the Arcanite Reaper. Pretty cool-looking, but painful mats.
	The Blade of Harbingers Required Level: 70 Source: Vendor Very distinctive, unique model, and quite easy to get. Nicely detailed and shiny!
	The Burning Crusader Required Level: 68 Source: Quest This cool floating-crystal model is obtained from a Netherstorm group quest.
	Ingvar's Monolithic Cleaver Required Level: 70 Source: Utgarde Keep Massive Northrend axe, definitely looks like you mean business. 28% drop rate. Shares a model with Captain Carver's Persuader (Bind-on-Equip), and Wyrmclaw Battleaxe, which drops from regular Oculus at a 21% drop rate.
	Axe of Frozen Death Required Level: 68 Source: Quest (Horde, Alliance) Huge single-bladed model, mean-looking. Shares a model with Edge of Oblivion, which drops from Heroic Old Kingdom at a 24% drop rate.
	Crow Wing Reaper Required Level: 68 Source: Sethekk Halls (Normal and Heroic) Pretty cool spectral-looking axe. 13% drop rate on Normal, 15% on Heroic. Shares a model with Axe of Shattered Dreams, which drops from Normal Magister's Terrace at a 16% drop rate.
	Crystalforged War Axe Required Level: 69 Source: Bind-on-Equip This very distinctive axe screams Burning Crusade, and is a unique model. It's BoE, but can usually be found on the Auction House for a reasonable price.
	Glorious War-Axe Required Level: 65 Source: Bind-on-Equip Another very distinctive Burning Crusade weapon, that is also quite common on the Auction House. A yellow recolor, Legionfoe, is purchasable from Eldara Dawnrunner and requires Revered with the Shattered Sun Offensive, and a pink/purple recolor, Skyforged Great Axe, is available through Blacksmithing.
	De-Raged Waraxe Required Level: 75 Source: Quest Badass axe model, and also unique!
	Ethereum Nexus-Reaver Required Level: 70 Source: Rare Spawn This unique axe drops off a boss-level Fel Reaver in Shadowmoon Valley. It used to require a raid to kill, but now it's quite possible to solo or duo it. Has a 23% chance of dropping the axe.
	Fanged Axe Required Level: 65 Source: Quest (Horde, Alliance) This hatchet/tomahawk-style axe is a unique model, found only from doing these quests in Blade's Edge.
	Felsteel Reaper Required Level: 70 Source: Blacksmithing Very interesting eagle design on this large axe, tinged red. Recolors include the silver Spiked Battle Axe (Bind-on-Equip), and the silver-bladed, yellow-center Grand Marshal's Sunderer (Alliance-only), purchasable for 290 honor.
	Gravestone War Axe Required Level: 40 Source: Scholomance This amazing axe is literally a tombstone. How cool is that? It has a 32% drop rate. There is also a Bind-on-Equip reskin, Manslayer, but its tombstone is plain and has no markings.
	Greataxe of Stonard Required Level: 52 Source: Quest (Horde) This tombstone axe is Horde-only, and has a cool little skull on the tombstone. Perfect for a Forsaken.
	Hellscream's Will Required Level: 70 Source: Vendor This Horde-only axe is huge and very memorable. Requires Exalted with Mag'har, base price of 52g 23s 58c. Also available is the identical-looking Treant's Bane, which drops during a Dire Maul tribute run but at a crazy low 0.5% drop rate.
	Huge Thorium Battleaxe Required Level: 51 Source: Blacksmithing Recolor of Hellscream's Will.
	Honed Voidaxe Required Level: 65 Source: Quest Very distinctive Burning Crusade axe. Shares a model with only a Horde-only one-hand axe.
	Axe of the Nexus-Kings Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Mana-Tombs Quite a detailed, elegant look on this unique axe model. Has a 15% drop rate.
	Reaver of the Infinites Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Escape from Durnholde This bizarre axe is a unique model, and has a 14% drop rate.
	Colossal Skull-Clad Cleaver Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Halls of Lightning This giant mass of blades and spikes and feathers has a 23% drop rate from Loken in Halls of Lightning. It shares a model with Edge of Ruin, which drops from Heroic Trial of the Champion at a 14% drop rate.
	The Blackrock Slicer Required Level: 55 Source: Blackrock Spire Yes, this is a giant razor blade. Pretty awesome. Also available as a green-quality Bind-on-Equip item, Razor Axe, which looks the same except it has an orange handle.
	Torn-Heart Axe of Battle Required Level: 68 Source: Quest This green-glowing axe has a semi-transparent blade, and seems very demonic. Also a unique model.
	Tyrannical Beheader Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Pit of Saron Very intricate, detailed unique model. Has a 26% drop rate.
	Warsong Howling Axe Required Level: 61 Source: Blood Furnace Unique model. Looks a bit like a miniature version of Garrosh's axe, Gorehowl. Has a 18% drop rate.

Swimming Wild [Letters]

2011-11-25T07:46:00.000-08:00

Note: If you do not know who this character is, I strongly recommend taking 30 seconds and reading her Wowpedia entry: Lieutenant "Foxy" Topper.

To King Greymane,

Alliance ops here in the aquatic copper helm of Vashj'ir are near morning sun, sir. It ain't been ham and cheesy, not by a long cooking pot. We've had to dad and mum everything from being bird-pecked, read and writing off hostile bacon 'n bean life and them monstrous naga, to digging and landscaping up bits of food 'n supplies from other rubbernecks we've found on the ocean silver ore. Oh, and we also garden toolishly/unwittingly set double deuce some monstrous Old God Bountiful Feast that nearly Bradshaw Milled us all.

Maybe I should go back to the knife and skinning, what?

Everything was fisher's bait, for the first few spring showers. We set sail from Stormwind aboard those fancy mercenary stagecoach whips, on our way to baby rattle Hellscream's chicken coops. We were just approaching that new bit o' farmer's tan the Horde has been trying to seize, when suddenly a huge, tentacled old boot rose outta the bended knee and pulverized the boat! Crushed it like it was a fat crab set for kidney punch, it did. This thing was huge, sir - it could've climbed right over the Greymane tavern brawl with nary a lover's snuggle. And it had an evil butcher's hook to it. It weren't just some dumb animal, there was a cruel, vicious intelligence in its meat pies.

Anyway, so that wasn't a very positive apple cart. We were sinking beneath the Innkeeper's Daughter in a cloud of bodies and debris, and then the ruddy naga bridle tacked! We tried fending them off, but we were ice picked and rabbit snared, and a bunch of us ended up brown bread. Thankfully one of the Earthen Ring, a somber mushroom cap named Erunak, was able to dumpling stew a handful of us and drag us to a bird-peck where we were able to get our bottle o' gin back.

After we gathered some golden bells for him, Erunak was able to lay a salad dressing on us so we'd be able to breathe cannon fodder and move about grain barley. It's a Blackwald wood thing, too, because those naga and the Horde were city square. Captain Taylor and the rest of us saved as many as we could before the dirty crumb cakes kick-the-canned us. Erunak saved me from being wed and married away, but I early frost the Captain during the pulled muscle.

With a lot of alley dirk, we pushed on into Vashj'ir and established a few Baron Ashbury base dingy streetlamps. At one point we caught up with one of our cat's purrs we had thought early frost to the naga, who told us some cheery cherry bottle o' booze. Seems the naga weren't just coarse stringing us, but also going to fisher's bait effort to keep them bee hive, trapping them in magical debris and rubbles, then taking them away, never to be King and Queen from again. A shiver ran down my ale stein as he spilled the beans. I had a bad feeling.

We headed into a Burning Legion called the Shimmering Expanse, and began really taking the read and right to the picket fence. We were rifle butting our way through their nails and planks when suddenly, Erunak sensed a mighty, nudge and jostle life quarter horse nearby - a gigantic golden belled thing sitting on the ocean silver ore! I didn't even know it was bee hive, let alone a powerful Innkeeper's Daughter creature - it was the size of Greymane Manor, if not hair trigger! And inside, the naga were using trim and shaves - Alliance captives! - to mine and excavate the creature's natural pretty girls and minerals.

Now, I know you sent me here to stranglekelp with the reading and writing 'cause of my service in Gilneas, but I was really starting to feel out of silk and lace. I mean, I'm a cat's purr, give me a sword and a foe to stare in the meat pies, and I'll be right as rattling chain. But sneaking into a cannon fodder naga fool's gold, located inside a giant, ancient Rockscale Cod? This was all a little docker's clutch. We did find Captain Taylor inside, though, dinner plattered and wild boar, but still breathing.

We spent some bird lime inside the creature, Bradshaw Milling naga and restoring its natural bodily hot cross buns, and freeing the danced and waved. There were also Horde prison shivs, and we had a brief armor plate about whether we should Thistle Tea them as well or leave them because they were still our enemies. In the end we bear's paw that there were also a small tomato soup of Horde adventurers baby rattling the naga and saving their people, so we decided to leave them alone and focus on the mutual fisher's net.

Once the naga inside had been signed and dated, it flushed out any remaining tea caddies and we took off. We were weary and barb wired, and even worse, now had a large group of ex-trim and shaves who were unarmed, Darius Crowley and fatigued! We set up shop in a nearby shepherd's stave and got some Midsummer Fest. Some of our scouts reported that the ruins of a vast naga cute kitty lay nearby, but we determined that it was too heavily pig larded for a frontal bridle tack, and left them alone. After all, we still had to stop their distilled malt upon the Plane of Innkeeper's Daughter that was raging farther on, and there was still the unfinished Alterac Swiss with that nasty squid-thing that had rubbernecked our stagecoach whip. And we had just found the creature's grizzly bear.

At Captain Taylor's orders, we rendezvoused with a gnomish cannon fodder vessel, the Pincer X2, and descended into the chimney sweep to find the Bountiful Feast. The stagecoach whip seemed...bended kneeworthy, and relatively orphaned waif. But then again, it was of gnomish wild swine. I was rather lip service, but the captain, a draenei named Glovaal, seemed not tossed or turned. He had a funny pup tent though, which made it rather King's guard to know what he was hound's baying. Chicken and rice fellow, but window-knocking with him sure was roadside trading.

We ambushed the old boot (a kraken, I learned) and blasted it with all sorts of huge slapping palms. The whole craft rattled and babbling brooked, and I swear there were leaky canoes flying out and steel bending. It was terrifying - I'll fox steak a daft and barmy of plague-hurling Forsaken over being oyster shucked inside a metal debris and rubble like that any day of the mountain peak.

Well sir, we didn't manage to Bradshaw Mill the horror, but we did scare it off pretty Blackwald wood. We set up dingy streetlamp in the large empty shepherd's stave, which Glovaal called Darkbreak Cove. We were close to finishing our singing musician, but our limited blue skies continued to be an issue. We skipped and bound some makeshift fuel by siphoning it from the local bacon 'n bean life (don't tell Celestine). A gnome named Hexascrub was able - after a fisher's bait deal of trial and error - to mix it up into a snapping crocodile, explosive angry druid that he says will be perfect bio-fuel. His lemon zests nearly smoked us to death, but Glovaal seems to trust him, so I guess it's Booty Bay. Trust a gnome to turn natural fish farmer's soil into engine fuel.

Of course, while we were refueling, the naga sure hadn't spoiled rotten about us. Their chicken coops kept ambushing our scouts, so I sent in a running theme to go thin them out and fox steak out their pitch and toss. I told them to stick our flag in his body once he was brown bread, show them who they're Princess Tessing with. They kept their Northgate resistance after that.

I should point out that Hexascrub is an engineering sweet dessert, but in all other regards he's bloomin' daft! We bear's paw some of those horrible squid things sucked onto the ol' boat races of gilblins, and Hexascrub had the brilliant Queen Mia of fetching some to use as disguises. Sure enough, soon as some garden tool put the thing on its Mayor Armstead, the creature woke up and took biscuit roll, and started running around shouting how it was going to sheep herder us and how we were all going to Plumpkin Pie.

Thankfully, we were able to treasure cache the thing off and burn it before it caused any real beard stubble. I wanted to strangle Hexascrub, but Glovaal said he still needed him to operate the stagecoach whip. Spiced chili gnome.

Anyway, Glovaal and Hexascrub nearly have the Pincer mountain yeti for our final distilled malt upon the naga quarter horses, at the huge thread and spool known as the Abyssal Breach. I've been sending our chicken coops out to disrupt the activity of the Twilight Cultists we discovered alley dirking nearby. Whatever they were up to, it couldn't be Blackwald wood, so I figured we might as well mud and swamp them out now while we had the song and dance.

Within but a few spring showers, we'll be sailing to the birthday gift. Erunak says it's actually a knight's salute to Neptulon's copper helm, the Throne of Tides. This is sorry and sad, sir. If the naga manage to seize biscuit roll of the old crone, there's no telling what kinda Princess Tess they'll cause, especially their tent stitch of a leaky canteen, Azshara. We can only hope that with our stranglekelp, the Tidehunter will be able to berry bush them back and repel their quarter horses.

Well, we're almost mountain yeti to go. Wish us roast duck, sir! No doubt you'll soon butter churn the results of our ready and write, one way or another.

Cheers,

Show/Hide Letter Notes
When I asked for suggestions for Letters, I specifically asked for Alliance NPCs, since I have very little first-hand knowledge about them. Someone suggested Foxy Topper, so I looked her up on Wowpedia to see what the big deal was...and groaned. What the hell was she even saying? How was I supposed to write like HER?

After doing some reading, I learned that her seemingly-random dialogue actually DOES follow a pattern...it's called Cockney Rhyming Slang. Basically, it's taking a word in a sentence and replacing it with an expression that rhymes, for example "look" becomes "butcher's hook." Furthermore, in most cases the rhyming word is removed, so "Let's have a look." becomes "Let's have a butcher's."

CONFUSING.

However (thankfully) Foxy Topper's dialogue does NOT omit the rhyming word. I think if it did, it would be impossible to figure out what she's saying. Some of her in-game lines are:

Good to meet ya, love. Let's have a butcher's hook (look).
Nutmegs (legs) don't fail me now!
I'm gonna need me a good ol' tiddlywink (drink) after this!

So to summarize, for this Letter I'd have to:
- Write about the Alliance Vashj'ir questline, which I was unfamiliar with
- Write like a Worgen
- Change that dialogue into Cockney Rhyming Slang

I decided to just write her letter normally, then Worgen-ize it (if possible), then Cockney-Slang it. Considering I never, ever hear Cockney dialogue, I knew that some of my slang choices probably wouldn't be actual Cockney Slang, but you know what, I'm only human. And also, actual British or real-life slang words - which are apparently commonly used in this manner of speech - wouldn't make any sense for a Gilnean to use, so I tried to substitute in Azeroth/Gilnean references instead.

If you're curious what the translations are, here they are (it's a long list).

copper helm = realm
morning sun = done
ham and cheesy = easy
cooking pot = shot
dad and mum = overcome
bird-pecked = shipwrecked
read and write = fight
bacon 'n bean = marine
digging and landscaping = scraping
rubberneck = shipwreck
silver ore = floor
garden tool = fool
double deuce = loose
Bountiful Feast = beast
Bradshaw Mill = kill
knife and skinning = beginning
fisher's bait = great
spring shower = hour
stagecoach whip = ship
baby rattle = battle
chicken coops = troops
farmer's tan = land
old boot = brute
bended knee = sea
kidney punch = lunch
tavern brawl = wall
lover's snuggle = struggle
butcher's hook = look
meat pies = eyes
apple cart = start
Innkeeper's Daughter = water
bridle tacked = attacked
ice picked = panicked
rabbit snared = unprepared
brown bread = dead
mushroom cap = chap
dumpling stew = rescue
bottle o' gin = wind
golden bells = shells
salad dressing = blessing
cannon fodder = underwater
grain barley = freely
Blackwald wood = good
city square = everywhere
crumb cakes = snakes
kick-the-canned = overran
wed and married = carried
early frost = lost
pulled muscle = tussle
alley dirk = work
Baron Ashbury = secondary
dingy streetlamp = camp
cat's purr = soldier
cheery cherry = scary
bottle o' booze = news
coarse stringing = capturing
fisher's bait = great
bee hive = alive
King and Queen = seen
ale stein = spine
Burning Legion = region
picket fence = ?
rifle butting = cutting
nails and planks = ranks
nudge and jostle = colossal
quarter horse = force
hair trigger = bigger
trim and shaves = slaves
pretty girls = pearls
stranglekelp = help
silk and lace = place
rattling chain = rain
fool's gold = stronghold
Rockscale Cod = demigod
docker's clutch = much
dinner plattered = battered
wild boar = sore
bird lime = time
hot cross buns = functions
prison shivs = captives
armor plate = debate
Thistle Tea = free
bear's paw = saw
tomato soup = group
fisher's net = threat
signed and dated = eliminated
tea caddies = baddies
barb wired = tired
Darius Crowley = hungry
shepherd's stave = cave
Midsummer Fest = rest
cute kitty = city
pig larded = guarded
distilled malt = assault
Alterac Swiss = business
grizzly bear = lair
chimney sweep = deep
orphaned waif = safe
wild swine = design
lip service = nervous
tossed or turned = concerned
pup tent = accent
King's guard = hard
hound's baying = saying
chicken and rice = nice
window-knocking = talking
roadside trading = frustrating
slapping palms = bombs
babbling brooked = shook
leaky canoes = screws
fox steak = take
daft and barmy = army
oyster shucked = stuck
debris and rubble = bubble
mountain peak = week
singing musician = mission
blue skies = supplies
skipped and bound = found
snapping crocodile = volatile
angry druid = fluid
lemon zests = tests
Booty Bay = okay
farmer's soil = oil
spoiled rotten = forgotten
running theme = team
pitch and toss = boss
Princess Tess = mess
Northgate resistance = distance
sweet dessert = expert
bloomin' toadstool = fool
ol' boat race = face
Queen Mia = idea
Mayor Armstead = head
biscuit roll = control
sheep herder = murder
Plumpkin Pie = die
treasure cache = bash
beard stubble = trouble
spiced chili = silly
mountain yeti = ready
thread and spool = whirlpool
mud and swamp = stomp
song and dance = chance
birthday gift = rift
knight's salute = route
sorry and sad = bad
old crone = zone
tent stitch = witch
leaky canteen = Queen
berry bush = push
roast duck = luck
butter churn = learn

The Proud and the Poor [Letters]

2011-11-24T14:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Warchief Hellscream,

On behalf of myself and my co-workers Thathung and Grimful, I, Wabang, would like to announce that we are laying down our axes in peaceful protest, to formally ask you to give us back our former jobs as proud Orgrimmar Auctioneers.

I know when you became Warchief you thought you were doing us a favor by "freeing us" from what you called boring, tedious bookkeeper jobs. We could see how happy you were when you told us that we could finally don our armor and brandish our axes like the proud orc warriors we were, and not be stuck behind a desk any longer.

We appreciate the gesture, Warchief. We really do. It's just that...well...we kind of liked being Auctioneers.

I mean, being a Grunt is okay. It's a job, and we do like being able to serve the Horde and protect Orgrimmar from quillboar or Alliance attacks and everything.

However, it's so boring. Most of the time we just walk around and get a tan, and look wistfully inside at our replacement goblin auctioneers. In fact, I spend more of my time cleaning up refuse on the streets than doing any actual guard-work. By the ancestors, so much poop. Wind Rider poop, Proto-Drake poop, Dark Phoenix poop...I tell you, if I ever get my hands on whoever had the bright idea to allow flying mounts in our city...

I miss my old job, Warchief. I miss the sounds and bustle of the Auction House, the satisfying clinking and metallic aroma of coins changing hands. I miss hearing the stories that would inevitably accompany a rare, exotic weapon from far-off lands, or holding a priceless jewel or magic artifact in my hands before carefully writing down its name and who was selling it, and their desired sale price. I miss seeing the happy faces on adventurers as they tried on powerful new equipment, and I miss witnessing the thrilled look on a youngster's face when they sell enough scraps of leather to make their first gold piece.

Granted, not everything we sold was exciting or pleasant to handle, but overall, it was always an interesting, enjoyable occupation.

I know you think that we orcs should be warriors and fighters. But some of us just prefer more humble lifestyles, Warchief. I was never really very good at swinging an axe around, and my armor tends to chafe. Secretly, I am also apprehensive about what would happen if an Alliance war party invaded! I know you meant well, but I haven't swung my axe at anything other than a wood pile for years. I suspect my combat skills would be worth less than a pile of Murglesnout.

Also, it just doesn't seem fair. I know you were not yet Warchief, but we loyally and dutifully served the Horde for years as Auctioneers in the old Auction House, which was essentially just a big cave with a ledge for us to stand at the back. Back in those days, we didn't even have places to store our goods! We just had it all piled up behind us. It took us months to come up with a tagging and sorting system so that we would not lose or misplace anyone's valuable items!

And we didn't even have guards back then. Not really. I can't even count the number of times we were horribly beaten by Alliance thugs who had somehow sneaked into the city. I still walk with a limp thanks to one particularly mean dwarf. Yes, I could have grabbed one of the weapons for sale and used it to fight her, but I would sooner die than damage or ruin someone else's prized possession! Call it an Auctioneer's pride.

(Besides, I'd have to buy it then. You bind it, you buy it!)

But then, Orgrimmar finally got a new Auction House, with convenient crates and chests for handy storage, even overhead shelves. It even had doors for when it was cold or windy outside! Poor old Thathung had tears of joy in his eyes as we watched the finishing touches go up. But then when we learned that it would be goblins running the Horde's economic operations in the new building, and not us, those tears turned to tears of sadness.

Warchief, the simple truth is that being a Grunt just does not pay the bills.

You may not realize this, but Thathung, Grimful and myself chose to be Auctioneers. We were not forced into it. We all carefully studied and honed our arithmetic to be able to perform an Auctioneer's speedy calculations, and as you are no doubt aware, private tutoring by the Blood Elves is not cheap. Now that we have lost our jobs as Auctioneers, we can no longer afford to pay our outstanding debts, and the Grand Magister gets rather nasty/polymorphy when he is not paid.

As Auctioneers, we made a comfortable living, but we needed it to pay for our expensive - but necessary - tutelage and training. After all, you wouldn't want just any average orc off the dirt of Durotar handling the tens of thousands of gold coins that circulate through our city, would you?

I tried being a Flight Master, and well, you saw the six dead wind riders outside your door that week. We are trained to be Auctioneers, so that is what we should be!

We worked very hard for our careers, and to have it taken away from us so abruptly has left us in a very poor financial situation, Warchief. In addition to our educational debts, we have families to support and needs of our own!

Poor Grimful has it the worst, as he is hopefully addicted to gambling. Every day he pours his earnings into those blasted cards, hoping to one day strike it rich. He knows it is foolish, but he is far, far in the red and is desperate.

It also seems that someone in Orgrimmar's management - not you, Warchief, but perhaps one of your underlings - is intent on running a corrupt operation. Just the other evening, Grimful knocked on my door late at night, completely miserable and despondent. It turns out that due to a "filing error", his previous week's work - a hundred and sixty-eight hours' worth - were null and void, and he wouldn't be getting paid as a result.

Warchief, Grimful is a married orc with two small children to support! They will go hungry this week due to this supposed mistake. As it is, he will probably have to sell some of his belongings (on the Auction House, no less) simply to make rent this month.

And on a similar note, do the goblins really need those jobs? We all know they are wealthy beyond compare and don't have to scrounge for coppers like the rest of us. And while it seems that they are so far following our customary 5% commission rate for auction sales, how long before they start listening to their wallets and following in the footsteps of their greedy 15%-cut Neutral Auction House cousins?

I am not sure why you have decided that the rich among us should get richer, while those of us who need those jobs wallow in poverty. Is it simply because you figured they would be the best people for the job? Or was this some kind of agreement demanded by their filthy rich Trade Prince?

Don't get me wrong, I am glad to have them as our allies. I just wish they hadn't taken my beloved and hard-earned job when they joined up.

Warchief, we cannot go on living like this. A career as a Grunt simply will not do, but we are not adequately trained to be able to do anything else. We are not asking for anything but to be able to do our jobs, jobs we studied and trained hard to be qualified for, jobs we held for years before being suddenly replaced by these upstart new hires.

Our patience has grown Short, and we are prepared to wait a Very Long time until our voices are heard.

Sincerely,

Show/Hide Letter Notes
True story - Wabang was always my favorite Auctioneer, prior to Cataclysm. So when the Shattering hit and I started poking around Orgrimmar, I quickly noticed his absence from the Auction House! I was crushed, until I realized that he was still around, just now as a Grunt instead of an Auctioneer.

It's an interesting change, really, when you think about it. Stormwind's Auctioneers are still working as Auctioneers, but Orgrimmar's three Auctioneers all became Grunts! From a story perspective, it makes a lot of sense - get the financially-minded goblins in there, because that's what they're good at. Plus, I imagine Garrosh would absolutely disapprove of orcs fussing over coins and ledgers rather than out on the battlefield spilling blood.

However, what if Wabang, Thathung and Grimful didn't WANT to be Grunts? This was one of the first ideas I had for this year's Letters, and it was was ripe with humor. Then I found out that Grimful was one of the people Scribes could turn in Forged Documents to, and his two responses - about not being paid for his 168-hour work week (a whole week, BTW), and about having to lay off the cards/gambling - fit in perfectly.

Then, of course, there was the whole Occupy Wall Street thing. On one hand, I really wanted to work in elements from it, because there's some ironic similarities. Goblins = Corporations, a job as a Grunt = minimum wage, etc. I didn't want to go overboard though, so I just worked in a few things here or there.

Finally, Alas asked me a week or so ago to write about a poor NPC whose job it was to pick up all the poop from the flying mounts soaring about overhead. So there was yet another grievance Wabang would have with his new job!

Non-Raid Transmog Weapons: Two-Hand Swords

2011-11-24T10:10:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure what it is about Maces, but I just don't seem to like very many of them. I feel a little silly having so few Maces, and so many Axes and Swords, so it's possible I'll revise this list later with some more options.

Non-Raid Two-Hand Swords
	Obsidium Executioner Required Level: 81 Source: Blacksmithing There are quite a few swords that use this surprisingly detailed model. The rest are all random green Bind-on-Equip drops, so check the AH for Angerfang/Bladefist/Razorwind/Rustmaul/Splinterspear Greatswords.
	Blade of the Titans Required Level: 44 Source: Bind-on-Equip This short, wide-bladed swords is a Blue-quality BoE item, but it seems surprisingly common on the AH, and usually for under 100g. Pretty nice look for the price!
	Claymore of the Prophet Required Level: 80 Source: Vendors (Various) Alliance-only, unique model. Purchasable from the Argent Tournament vendors for 25 Champion's Seals.
	Greatsword of the Sin'dorei Required Level: 80 Source: Vendors (Various) Horde-only, unique model. Purchasable from the Argent Tournament vendors for 25 Champion's Seals.
	Darkened Broadsword Required Level: 63 Source: Bind-on-Equip This random green drop actually has a distinctive, unique model! You'd be insane to try to farm this, but if you like the look definitely keep an eye out for it on the AH.
	Demonshear Required Level: 42 Source: Stratholme One of the few "blood vein" sword models still in the game. Has a 24% drop rate.
	Dreadlord's Blade Required Level: 78 Source: Culling of Stratholme This incredible-looking sword drops from the last boss of Normal Culling, and is a unique model. One of the coolest non-raid two-handers in my opinion!
	Endbringer Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Underbog Virtually unique model (Alliance Warriors can get a recolor from a class quest). 17% drop rate.
	Fel Iron Greatsword Required Level: 63 Source: Blacksmithing This extremely-easy-to-get sword shares a model with many other swords, but sports a special red blade. There probably won't be many players using this.
	Greatsword of Forlorn Visions Required Level: 70 Source: Botanica (Normal and Heroic) A very cool blade on this one - the middle is solid, but the outer edges are translucent. 14% drop rate on Normal, 15% on Heroic.
	Haunting Blade Required Level: 16 Source: Shadowfang Keep (Numerous) The red etchings on this blade are attractive, and uncommon! Drops from both Lord Godfrey (23% drop rate) and the rare spawn Deathsworn Captain (47% drop rate). Horde can also get this model in the Sunfury Blade via a Quest, and a green-etching version is a blue BoE drop from Sunken Temple trash.
	Illidari-Bane Claymore Required Level: 67 Source: Quest Very cool crystalline sword, hefty and solid-looking. Shares a model with Shaarde the Greater, which drops from Normal Mana-Tombs at a 15% drop rate.
	Quantum Blade Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Black Morass Crystalline yet still metal looking, with some great thick lines/edges. Unique model, as well! 17% drop rate.
	Massacre Sword Required Level: 54 Source: Bind-on-Equip For a random green drop, this sword looks AMAZING. A silver-bladed version, Blackblade of Shahram, drops from General Drakkisath in Blackrock Spire, but at a low, low 1.7% drop rate.
	Mourning Malice Required Level: 80 Source: Halls of Reflection Very detailed, if slightly unusual design. 23% drop rate from final boss in Normal Halls of Reflection.
	Runeblade of Demonstrable Power Required Level: 80 Source: Vendor Huge, spiky, mean-looking. Great sword. Shares a model with Troll Butcherer, which drops from Trollgore in Normal Drak'Tharon Keep, 32% drop rate.
	Sin'dorei Warblade Required Level: 15 Source: Quest This Horde-only, unique sword model is a reward from the final quest in Ghostlands. Very detailed non-symmetrical look.
	Sul'thraze the Lasher Required Level: 44 Source: Special This is created by combining two one-hand swords, Jang'thraze and Sang'thraze. Shares a model with Warmonger (Bind-on-Equip, red center) and Sword of Nefarian's Hand (Quest reward, green center).
	Training Sword Required Level: 5 Source: Bind-on-Equip Looks like a wooden kendo sword. Pretty fun, though I'm not sure if it will be transmoggable.

Non-Raid Transmog Weapons: Two-Hand Maces

2011-11-23T09:38:00.000-08:00

Non-Raid Two-Hand Maces
	Arechron's Gift Required Level: 70 Source: Vendor Alliance-only. Requires Exalted with Kurenai. Pretty blue crystal design. Base price is 52g 43s 92c.
	Argent Skeleton Crusher Required Level: 80 Source: Vendor Requires Revered with Argent Crusade, base price 89g 56s 27c. Massive spiked club. Bonus - look at it from bottom up, and it looks like the Argent Crusade symbol.
	Blood Knight Maul Required Level: 67 Source: Bind-on-Equip Easily found on the AH, this very bright mace is perfect for a Blood Elf paladin, but it would also be quite nice for other characters, too. Nothing crazy, just sharp and colorful.
	Bone Valley Mace Required Level: 43 Source: Quest This bizarre, creepy-looking mace is a skull atop a spinal cord, which tapers to bony spikes. Very evil looking! Slight recolor, Frightskull Shaft, available from Scholomance at a 17% drop rate.
	Firemaul of Destruction Required Level: 68 Source: Shattered Halls (Normal and Heroic) Very epic-looking hammer, quite similar in appearance to Ragnaros' Sulfuras. 20% drop rate on Normal, 19% on Heroic.
	Garfrost's Two-Ton Hammer Required Level: 80 Source: Pit of Saron Pretty mean looking bone/spike mace. 22% drop rate, first boss, so it should be pretty easy to farm.
	Warmaul of Infused Light Required Level: 70 Source: Arcatraz (Normal and Heroic) Unique model, with a very cool animation - the stone "bands" constantly rotate around the blue crystal core, which emits a blue glow! 18% drop rate on both Normal and Heroic.
	Repurposed Lava Dredger Required Level: 1 Source: Vendors (various, see below) This heirloom weapon is so great for Engineers or Gnomes. It can be purchased for 3500 Justice Points from numerous vendors (Dalaran, Stormwind, Orgrimmar, or for 95 Champion's Seals at the Argent Tournament.
	Mograine's Might Required Level: 35 Source: Scarlet Monastery: Cathedral A simple yet elegant design. Has a 24% drop rate.
	Mojo Masked Crusher Required Level: 80 Source: Heroic Drak'Tharon Keep This huge weapon actually has a tusked, crystalline troll head as its weapon end - pretty cool. Has a 23% drop rate. Emerald green recolor, Saronite Mindcrusher, available through Blacksmithing.
	Hammer of Righteous Might Required Level: 70 Source: Blacksmithing Very interesting unique design, animated too. Like most Burning Crusade epic patterns, will probably be hard to find, plus the mats will be expensive.
	Scepter of Sha'tar Required Level: 70 Source: Heroic Mana-Tombs Very distinctive unique model, and massive to boot! Would be perfect for a Draenei character. 16% drop rate.
	The Shoveler Required Level: 35 Source: Bind-on-Equip I'm not sure if the shovel models will be transmoggable, but considering this one is not a junk weapon, but an actual blue-quality one, I remain hopeful. It drops from Uldaman trash. Low, low rate though - get ready for a grind.

As the Crow Flies [Letters]

2011-11-22T18:48:00.000-08:00

(Artwork from "A Bird in Hand" (WoW TCG) by Gonzalo Ordonez)

Hey Omnuron! I noticed that you tend to have a pained look on your face when I come back from Talon missions, like you just ate something that didn't agree with you.

If it's just heartburn, you should really go talk to Choluna, I'm sure she'd have some sort of mushed up roots or minced wood pulp or something that would help. But if it's stress, you should relax! You need to think about your blood pressure! Besides, there's no need to worry about me like that, Archdruid. I know you keep telling us (well, me) that we should remain hidden, that the Druids of the Talon should avoid direct conflict and leave the fighting to the others, but I can take care of myself! And anyway, sometimes you just need to get your talons dirty.

However, I noticed that I'm pretty much the only one in our Order who feels this way. The others, they like to hover far overhead in Storm Crow form, or lurk in the shadows far away from the action, scrounging up tiny little scraps of overheard intel.

Omnuron, I know they're just doing what you taught us to do, and I know this is safer...but it's just not as effective! I think we need to be more aggressive in our "information gathering" to really get results. You may not always approve of my methods, but nothing loosens a sucker's tongue like a little blood. And since we're already embedded deep within enemy territory, why not do a little damage while we're there?

Makes perfect sense to me!

So anyway, I thought I'd help you out with some tips and pointers I've picked up over the years! That way, we can train more druids on the fine art of recon, infiltration, and of course, a little precision knife-work!

I can't wait!

Thisalee's Guide to Practical Stealth and Espionage
by Thisalee Crow

Hey there! So you've decided to join the Druids of the Talon, and you don't know where to begin. Well, the first thing you need to know is, get a knife. But the second thing you need to know, is what we're not!

(I'll explain the knife thing later.)

We're druids, yes, but we're not front-line fighters, standing toe-to-toe with our enemies, clawing and biting away in our feral forms. And neither are we spellcasters, blasting our foes or healing our allies with Ysera's blessings.

Don't get me wrong, we CAN do these things in a pinch, but our unique talents and skills are much better utilized performing more specialized roles. Surveillance, long-distance message delivery, gathering vital enemy information - these are our jobs! While our rowdy Druids of the Claw cousins brawl away and keep our foes busy, we can sneak by unnoticed and find out what they're really up to!

Reconnaissance
Now, Omnuron says we should focus on silence and subterfuge, and get our information through eavesdropping or aerial observation. This isn't a bad start, but why stop there? We've got the moves - let's use them! An effective Druid of the Talon can single-handedly cripple an enemy advance by taking out their proverbial kneecaps.

One of our top priorities while on recon is to keep an eye out for any battle plans or troop orders. These are like gold! Sometimes we get lucky, and the enemy just leaves them out in plain sight for anyone to find. If you have time, don't actually take them, but instead, memorize them or make a copy! If they never realize that we know what they're planning, we can tell our forces and counter their moves, or better yet, ambush them! Have you ever seen a brigade of filthy demons walk right into a trap, all the while thinking that they're outmaneuvering us? It's so much fun.

Now, if you don't have time to carefully study their plans, then just pocket them or burn them when you leave. Sure, they'll know something's wrong, but it'll throw them into disarray and make them wonder what else we know. It'll either buy us time, or it'll allow us to go on the offensive and push them back! It's not quite as good, but it's still pretty effective.

Furthermore, remember to keep an eye out for any secondary objectives, no matter how bizarre they might be. I know, I know...it doesn't really make much sense to be playing botanist while you're busy risking life and limb prowling around behind enemy lines. But try to satisfy their requests. They probably have a good reason! They'd better, anyway...

Sabotage
Another task that we excel at is the fine art of SABOTAGE. What's better than stealing a Twilight Cultist list of objectives and bring it back to our side? Why, changing that list and letting the buffoons defeat themselves!

Or, if you're up against two different groups that have made some kind of unholy alliance, then get in there and break up that terrible partnership! A little select theft here, a little planting of "evidence" there, and pretty soon you can just sit back and watch their fragile truce disintegrate like an old, dried-up leaf. It's like music to the ears!

There are also less direct ways of hampering your foes, especially if you can get access to their armories or supplies! Loosen their spearheads, smash (or poison) all their potions, sever the straps on their armor...little things, but they add up to a pretty severe disadvantage! They'll never know what hit them!

Witnesses (Don't leave any!)
This is as good a time as any to mention enemy guards who might be protecting their intel. Sometimes you simply won't be able to reach some valuable information without confronting some grunt or guard posted to watch over it. I've seen veteran druids spend hours carefully picking their way through an enemy stronghold, only to turn away in frustration when they see that the scroll or book they're seeking is being protected by a few grunts.

I don't really understand the problem, here. Don't want to be detected because some jerk is in the way? Take him out. Permanently.

What?

Now, we're pretty good at a lot of things, but removing an enemy quietly and without attracting attention isn't really one of them. Sure, we can float down unseen from above, but then what? Claw at them with our talons? Peck them in the nose? Alternately, we can sneak up in our feline form, but have you ever tried clawing someone to death without roaring and howling like a...well, a wild nightsaber? It's just not in our nature. (Hah!)

This is why it's crucial to bring along a good, sturdy blade, friends. You want something small that won't interfere with your shapeshifting, but it should be strong and tapered to a nice, sharp point. We're Druids of the Talon - it only makes sense to have a lethal one at our disposal.

And don't get some flimsy cheese-cutter! You want a blade that's solid and heavy, something you can really put your weight behind - you never know when you might need to bash open a drawer, knock a prisoner unconscious, or other unexpected, random tasks!

As for those pesky guards or sentries? Simply sneak up and get behind them, perform a little ear-to-ear action, and they'll be down for the count with nary a sound. If you need to bring them down, a hard kick to the back of their knees will drop them right down to convenient knife level.

Alternately, if you'd prefer, a stab right to the spine does the trick pretty well, too. If they're heavily armored, you can aim for where the neck of their armor meets the base of their helmet for a quick kill, or failing that, the soft mail right under one's arm, and the lung beneath it, is always a good bet.

Oh, and make sure you cover their mouths - even a final gasp or gurgle can be enough to attract unwanted attention! In fact, if you're up against someone larger than you, do your knife-work, then shift into dire bear form and squash them to the ground. Yelling for help with a fatal dagger wound is pretty hard, but doing it while a massive bear is rolling around on top of you is near impossible. (It's also pretty funny. For us, anyway.)

Now, some Druids think we shouldn't get involved in combat...that we shouldn't get distracted, but instead focus on "fact-finding." Bah! Like I always say, facts are best found on corpses. You never know what type of clue or useful info you'll find on the average cultist or Old God devotee. Besides, one grunt taken out silently today is one less grunt that can kill us tomorrow! If we get the chance, I say absolutely go ahead and thin out the enemy's ranks.

Added bonus - demoralization! Who says you have to be one of those shady Warlocks to frighten people? By dispatching them in their own base/cave/whatever, you'll really throw the fear of Aviana into them! And if they keep jumping at shadows, wondering if there's one of our number hiding within, we've done our job well. They'll think twice before messing with us again!

Tools and Equipment
I've already mentioned a good dagger, but there's plenty of other useful tools you should outfit yourself with before heading into the field! Don't overlook them - they can make the difference between a successful recon mission and an early cairn.

When you're padding around in feline form, you will be able to smell and hear your enemies, as long as they're warm-blooded creatures like humans, elves, ogres, etc. Sometimes you'll need those keen senses when not in cat form, though, so be sure to carry some Blackened Worg Steaks with you. Avoiding enemy patrols is a lot easier when you know exactly where they are! On a similar note, if they've got hounds or beasts roaming about, you can gulp down some Tracker Snacks to be able to sniff them out.

Another helpful device is an Ornate Spyglass. These things are fragile, bulky and awkward to carry, but they do what they're supposed to do. Want to know what an enemy commander is holding, from a few hundred yards away? Need to closely inspect an approaching figure? A few seconds peering through one of these and you'll have the intel you need. The enemy won't even know you're around.

(PS: The Gnomes also make a special version of the Spyglass. Don't use it. Trust me.)

Finally, sometimes things just go terribly wrong, and you need to make an hasty escape. I always make sure to have an Invisibility Potion or two handy, for true emergencies. Remember, as much as you might enjoy carving up a few, we're not really intended for long fights! Strike silently, strike quickly, then get out!

Conclusion
Our roles are less flashy than the Druids of the Claw, and we don't always get the accolades that our kin tend to be showered with. But you know what? That's fine. Proper enemy reconnaissance and surveillance are what wins wars! They might be the bulk and body of our fighting forces, but we're the strike force, the shock troops, the scouts. It takes finesse, skill and patience. And sometimes, it takes a person who's not afraid to get their hands a little dirty to get the job done.

(And really, that's the best part, isn't it?)

Show/Hide Letter Notes
I knew that I HAD to do a Thisalee letter...I just wasn't sure what to do for it! She's got such a fun, vibrant personality already, and yet, there's a real edge to her. It's funny and great to see in an NPC, but it's actually a little alarming to sit back and realize just how excited and hungry for action she is. Ah well, it makes for a fun experience.

I get the strong impression that even among the Druids of the Talon, Thisalee is a little wild and crazy. In comparison, Omnuron seems so calm and normal, and Thisalee so...unrestrained. It seemed the classic case of the old mentor /facepalming or groaning as Thisalee continues to go get into all sorts of trouble...sort of a Calvin feel to her. I thought it'd be funny to expand on this feeling, really make you feel sorry for poor old Omnuron, having to deal with such a maverick under his wing.

I really also like the idea that the Druids of the Talon are Malfurion's "special forces", the group that gets called upon to do the morally-dubious tasks, the dirty work, etc. Not only are they well-suited for the espionage elements, but they really would make great assassins, infiltrators, saboteurs etc. It's just not something you'd normally think of when you think druids, which is maybe one of the reasons it works so well!

I also thought it interesting that Thisalee uses a knife, very noticeably. Not only is it mentioned a few times in her gossip text, but it's used in a quest, and when you encounter it later on, her armor is all exactly the same, but she's gotten a new dagger! I considered why she might have one, and realized that for all their stealth, druids really AREN'T naturally equipped for some dark and gritty assassination work. They really would need a tool or weapon of some sort, which could also be used for miscellaneous utility tasks as well. A dagger made perfect sense, in that regard.

Finally, I tried to keep Thisalee's upbeat, optimistic demeanor throughout the letter. It's funny - it's a fine line between being optimistic because you're confident, and being optimistic because you're dumb or naive. And while you get the impression that Thisalee is young, she definitely does not seem stupid. Brash, confident, maybe a little overconfident, but not stupid! However, like most maverick personalities, you can definitely see a little recklessness in her that will one day lead her into a situation where she's bitten off a little more than she can chew...hence, the inclusion of the equipment section, to show that she's at least taken some precautions and had some escape tricks up her sleeves. :)

orcish army knife

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