[Journal][Taashti] Travelogue of a Techno-Shaman

[ Taashti's writing is a terrible mess. The occasional rude doodle graces the pages - Commanders, general folks from inns, auctioneers - complete with nasty commentary that's at least on-par with rebellious teenager talk. Pages containing engineering schematics are the complete opposite of everything else in the book: neat, tidy and detailed. After at least fifteen pages bitching about Hellfire Peninsula, idiot Death Knights, the smell of burning Tauren, the smell of wet gnomes, the general appearance of gnomes, the sensation of Fel Orc under one's hooves and all sorts of other nonsense, we get to the following: ]

NORTHREND

Northrend is where all current Alliance forces reside. It’s where everybody is and I’m not. It’s where all the good, meaningful, interesting work is and it’s not hot and maybe the spirits don’t scream there. That’s where I want to be.

I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, so sick of Hellfire and Outland and I ran away from here and it’s hopeless and trying to take it back is fucking idiotic.

My trainers said something about how if I want to progress I have to ~*let go of my paaast*~ and be more for ~*helping others*~ and ~*stop smoking*~ … and drinking… and swearing. Fuck that. And none of them believe that what I’m doing is right either, like technology is something we have to avoid at all costs or just I don’t know, it is evil and ew horrible don’t touch. It’s like … they have something amazing but they want to exclude all other amazing things, I don’t get it? And if I let go of my past I forget who I am and if I do that I forget mom and I forget Kishanti. I can’t forget Kishanti.

I can’t get her face out of my head either and it’s not like it’s her smile or anything it’s that last

[ A mass of scribbling graces the page immediately below the sentence, taking up approximately one paragraph worth of space. Frustrated scribbles. ]
And I don’t have a dad to forget.

I wonder if he’s in Northrend though, if maybe he lived through everything. If he’s not a big bad hunter like I failed at being maybe he’s a paladin or a kick-ass warrior or a shaman like me. Imagine that though, if he was like… if he electrocuted Scourge for a living, or if he commanded a legion of ghostly wolves and cool shit like that.

Maybe I’ll sneak on a boat and try to see it all for myself.

Aw man. Grandpa is totally gonna kill me.

I bet that’s where he is, too, chilling with the Kirin Tor and being old and trying to hook me up with dudes fifteen times my age or something.

[Storytime][Taashti] Briefly, A Life

“Run!”

Taashti turned her head toward the series of screams that followed the order, her wide eyes catching the look of terror upon the face of her friend Kishanti before the woman was cut down by a rampaging Orc. The young girl’s screams joined the cacophony, though hers were of rage, not fear. Whipping her axes from her hips, Taashti flew through the air at the attacking Orc; she lashed out, the weapons thudding into the creature’s neck and chest. She blinked through the blood that spattered against her face and burned her skin – didn’t the stories say that their blood was unholy? – and her rage fizzled away as she realized that the beast was dead.

And her axes were stuck.

Taashti grunted and swung around, barking, “Mohito, Mohito, where are you? Help me!” as she dropped down beside the bloody, crumpled form of Kishanti. Kisha had been much older than Taash, she had been the one that taught the girl to use a gun.

Blinking back tears and wiping her face on her sleeve, Taash grabbed hold of her friend’s shoulder with her free hand and shook her.

“Kisha, get up. Get up, Kisha, we’ve gotta – we’ve gotta get outta here, they’re killing everyone. Kisha – KISHA!”

Nothing. Taash let out a low growl as she rolled her friend onto her back, and when she finally looked to the girl’s face, she stopped and stared; Kisha’s expression was frozen in a look of stark terror, and that look would haunt Taashti for the rest of her days.

- – -

She wasn’t sure when Mohito, the massive gray Worg, had managed to join her – she just felt his presence beside her as she ran and she didn’t bother to question. Taashti’s hands were sore from her tight grip on the gun she carried, a gun that bore Kishanti’s mark upon the shining metal, and her eyes burned from the blood of her last kill and the effort of trying not to cry. She couldn’t cry. Kisha would make fun of her if she cried.

“What kinda tracker cries in the heat of battle, huh, kid? Buck up, there’s worse where you’re goin’ and where we’re from.”

Mohito’s snarling shook Taash from her thoughts and she slid to a stop, spinning to stare at the Worg and whatever he was snarling at. They were so close, all they had to do was get to Zangarmarsh and they’d be safe like the others that had left before they did.

“Moh! C’mo – ”

A trio of Orcs crested the hill and Taashti’s eyes went wide. She didn’t have enough ammo to kill all three, she knew that, but she reached into her ammo pouch anyway. If she was going to go down, she was going to go down fighting.

Her hands were shaking as she loaded her gun and screamed for Mohito to attack.

- – -

A sickening crack and blindingly sharp pain announced to Taashti that her leg was broken.

It was the gurgling whimper that informed her that Mohito was gone, too.

The young Draenei woman lay within mere metres of the safety of Zangarmarsh. Slowly, she reached forward, in the hopes that perhaps, just perhaps, if she could get part of herself a little closer…

“Aaah!”

Taashti cried out as one of the two remaining Orcs stomped on her hand – and that was all that was needed. As the Orc raised his axe above his head to deliver the final killing blow, a low, reverberating noise – almost like the trumpet of an angry Elekk – rumbled across the land.

The gravely wounded young woman barely registered what was going on around her; she could see plate-clad Draenei, she could smell the marsh on them, clinging to their clothes and tabard. She heard their voices and battle cries and the death-yells of the Orcs. She heard the concern in the voice of the male that leaned over her, but her vision was blurry, she couldn’t identify him. She didn’t know what she was being asked, or what she was being told, and she yelped when the Draenei man scooped her up.

“… her… Telr… make has…”

Though she struggled to remain awake, it was no use, and Taashti soon lost consciousness.

- – -

“My dad was killed by the Orcs,” Kisha said, shrugging lightly. “’s how I learned how to shoot, him yellin’ at me to run but uh, I knew it wasn’t no use. So I shot the fuckers.”

Taashti gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, prompting Kisha to giggle. “What?” The older Draenei asked. “You ne’er said any bad words?”

“No way!” Taash replied. “Mom would give me that look and then she would say, ‘Do not make me tell your grandfather’, and I do not want to disappoint Grandpa.”

Grinning, Kisha ruffled the young girl’s hair and teased, “Your Gran’pa’s just as bad, mebbe worse. You ever heard ‘im when one a’ his magic spells didn’t work?”

The little Draenei girl’s cheeks darkened and she nodded slowly.

“‘Sides, he’s eeeverybody’s gran’pa, ‘e’s so old,” Kisha added, then she gave Taash a rather thoughtful look. “So uh, what ’bout your dad, what happened to him?”

Both of Taashti’s hands went to a tiny silver pendant that she wore around her neck. The little girl shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “Grandpa said mom showed up when she was pregnant and he took her in, and she never talks about him.” The girl fidgeted a little before brightly exclaiming, “I bet he’s a great hunter, and he has a big old Worg and he makes all his own guns and ammo and one day he’s gonna show up and sweep mom off her feet.”

“Sure, kiddo,” Kisha said. “I’m sure he will.”

- – -

Daniil had been frowning all evening. He tried not to, but after the news he had received from his granddaughter’s healer, he couldn’t help it.

“Her leg will never heal properly, Daniil. It was crushed. She will be very lucky if she is ever able to walk again.”

The old Draenei’s frown deepened into a scowl and he puffed furiously on his pipe, then turned toward the very pale young girl that lay in the bed behind him. She was safe, for now, in Telredor, but that safety couldn’t possibly last. He had to get her out. He had to find a way.

“First your mother, now Kisha, now you,” Daniil mumbled. “Light help us all.”

The old mage shuffled to Taashti’s bedside, took her hand in his and fell into silence. There was little else that he could do.

- – -

For weeks, Taashti had been left with little to do but stay in bed and wait for her leg to heal – or at least strengthen to the point where she would be able to limp about.

One day, however, she was awakened by a commotion outside her room. She called for Daniil, who carried her outside to see what the fuss was about, and there the duo found one of the Broken speaking to the Draenei of Telredor about a new path. Though Daniil showed no interest, and even slight distaste, in the words of one of them, Taashti was enamoured with the idea of a new path.

That day, as she sat among other young Draenei like herself who had nothing to lose and everything to gain, she found something that would prove to be very important to her people: Hope.

That day, the wind and the water spoke to Taashti.

- – -

“You are beautiful.”

“Stop it, Grandpa.”

Taashti was positively beaming as Daniil set his massive hands upon her tiny shoulders and pressed his lips to her forehead. The girl laughed, exclaiming, “You’re acting like we’re going to be apart forever, Grandpa, but it’s gonna be fine, honest!”

“Promise but one thing, Taashti,” he said as he leaned back from her, just so that he could get a better look at the young woman. “promise me that you will not die before me.”

“Grandpa,” she replied breathlessly, just somewhat shocked. “that’s – I can’t – ”

“Promise,” he repeated.

The girl went very, very quiet, even looking a little guilty as she whispered, “That’s a really strange thing to ask for but I promise. Can I go now? I’m gonna be late, I think the Farseer is assigning everyone to their trainers and I’ve never been good at really navigating the Exodar and -”

“It’s fine,” Daniil said. “Go. Light be with you, my dear, and tread carefully!”

Taashti gazed absently at her Grandfather for several long minutes before reluctantly parting ways with him, and he smiled sadly as he watched her go. Then he, too, left, taking to the path from Azure Watch to the far-off coast.

- – -

“These are your orders, ladies, and if any of you are caught fleeing the front lines you will be shot on sight, is that understood?”

A very small Alliance contingent stood on the parched red soil of Hellfire Peninsula just outside Honour Hold, a mixture of Humans, Dwarves, Night Elves, Draenei and Gnomes. Among them, wearing the colours of an Alliance Medic, stood Taashti, with her arms crossed over her chest and a very Daniil-like scowl upon her face. She was dirty, hot and had a smouldering cigar clenched between her teeth. Tiny gears were peppered through her hair, which had been darkened from its yellowish-white to a deep red-brown, and a pair of battered goggles rested upon her forehead. This was the land that had nearly killed her nearly a century ago, and she could hardly believe her eyes.

When the group was dismissed, Taash made her way back toward the inn, grumbling under her breath the entire time. She hated it in Hellfire, all she wanted was to go elsewhere. Anywhere. Even -

A painting on the wall of the inn caught the woman’s eye, a new painting of a land that was covered in snow and strange, pointy trees. She tilted her head, then pointed to the painting and asked, “Where is?”

“That’s Northrend,” a human soldier replied. “’s where most of our forces are.”

Taashti grinned. She knew exactly where she wanted to go.

[Storytime][Intro] Technoshaman Taashti and the Military Missive

[ Taashti is a level 62 Draenei Shaman on Zul'jin US-PvE and this is my attempt to figure out her character. She is a cigar-smoking, ale-chugging, technoshaman with a penchant for inappropriate curses and behaviour that isn't quite fitting of a Shaman. An injury in an attack when she was a child caused permanent damage to her right leg which has resulted in a limp - a problem she makes up for with her dabblings in Engineering. Much of Who She Is isn't really evident here, unfortunately, so I hope to develop her a bit more as time goes on. ]

Tap. Taptap. Taptaptap. Tippity tap.

Taashti slowly opened one eye, then the other and raised her hand in front of her face as she blinked groggily at the sudden influx of daylight. What time was it? Nether, what day was it?

Creeeeeeak. Thumpthumpthump clank clatter clank.

“What is racket?” Taashti shouted. She was sprawled across a mess of a bed that was Dwarf- not Draenei -sized and surrounded by unfinished gadgetry, explosives, barrels of gunpowder, stacks of various metal bars and the occasional pipe or small part. The young Shaman pulled herself out of bed and onto shaky hooves, then stumbled across the room to a crooked desk that sat beneath a bronze-coloured pipe that stuck down from the ceiling. The pipe ended at a ninety degree angle that had a metal cone sticking off of it, from which a tinny, female-sounding voice emanated.

“Got th’mailbox runnin’, Taash!” The Gnome cried. “An’ you gotta summons!”

Taashti scowled. She worded her response carefully to avoid slipping into Draenic as she spoke into the cone.

“Is from where? Nobody but you know of me live here, Tecci. You not tell, yes?”

“Who’d I tell?”

The young Shaman limped about her home, grumbling as she ran her fingers through her long, pale yellow hair; she had to find her goggles in the mess that was her collecting of gears and miscellanea. “Nevermind,” she shouted, so she could be heard through the communications device. “Who summon Taashti?”

Meanwhile, on the roof, Tecila Shieldwall flopped down and tore the envelope open.

“Looks ta be somebody wit’ a fancy Drainy name,” she said.

Crash!

… And she grinned at the Draenic curses that filtered through with the sound of crashing and banging that had become the usual noontime greeting.

“They’s callin’ you ta Hellfire Peninsula in Outland, Taash. Place is damn hot an’ they want ya ta do some spirit somethin’s with keepin’ up morale or somethin’ inna citadel place an’ that Zangarmarshy thinger,” the Gnome continued. “Ya gots ta report ta some hold or somethin’ that’s run by humies an’ I guess folks’ll put ya wherever you’ve gotta go.”

Inside the stone house, Taashti was struggling to get into her overalls. After an epic battle wherein a handful of whirring bronze gizmos were lost and a copper pipe or two was bent, the Draenei woman stood victorious, snapped her goggles into place on her head and staggered out into the afternoon sun of Loch Modan.

“And name is?” Taash loudly asked. She was just about to haul herself onto the roof when the Gnome suddenly appeared at her hooves, grinning.

“And why you grin so much. Little gnome is smart-ass,” the Shaman continued.

“That ain’t very spirit-nature-lovery of ya at all,” Tecila replied. She was far too chipper for Taash’s taste.

With a snort, the Draenei snatched the letter from her companion’s hands and read it aloud.

“Taashti; it has been brought to our attention that you are idle on Azeroth while on the military payroll. Please report to Honour Hold at once. Your services are required, you will be joining the ranks in the capacity of a medic and will be asked to accompany recon. teams into Hellfire Citadel and the Coilfang Reservoir when your first missions are complete. Report by the end of the week or face Court Martial. Signed, Vindicator Krivyx.”

Strangely enough, as Taashti’s face fell, Tecila’s grin grew, until the small woman’s face threatened to be consumed by it.

“So that’s how you’ve been payin’ for yer ’speriments,” Tecila said. “Now yer actually gonna hafta work fer it!”

“Shut trap, little mouse, and help Taashti suit up. Is going to be long trip to Ironforge to get transport to hell-hole, so must be started early.”

With that, the pair disappeared back into the old stone dwelling to prepare for the Shaman’s departure.

- – -

Taashti’s love of the spirits was never obvious on the outside, and appeared to be trumped by her adoration of technology, but little did most know that, for her, the two went hand-in-hand. The gadgetry that dangled from her belt, or that she wore elsewhere, made up for her weaknesses and supplemented her magic and resolve. She was often chided for her approach, but it worked for her.

She was still alive, after all, and she was still able to walk.

The young Shaman absently toyed with one of the steel gears that she wore in her hair as she slid off the Gryphon and stepped onto the parched red soil of Hellfire Peninsula. The land, she noted, was screaming – she didn’t like it one bit.

“I am thinking is time to start the drink again,” she muttered as she made her way toward Honour Hold. “Too many dead, Taashti remembers, too many that can be heard. Is a bad, bad time to be leaving Dwarf-land. Bad time.”

Young Taashti would soon find that she had plenty of reason to be worried.

The Value of Education, or: Why It Sometimes Pays Not to Be An Asshole

I have noticed a disturbing trend in the WoW community. Am I slow on the uptake? Maybe. Is this going to sound utterly hilarious coming from me? Well, yeah.

We live and instance in a gogogo culture where anybody that isn’t at the top of their game is left in the dust and so is anybody that does things differently than what Elitist Jerks imposes upon the population (WoW.com’s Jerkerati, anyone?) – experimentation is frowned upon and honest-to-Djehuty (The Scribe seems appropriate here) newbies and clueless types are promptly chewed up and spit out.

WoW players eat their own. All gamers do.

It’s not always the right thing to do.

The Asshole Mentality

With the relative anonymity of the new LFG tool, everyone is pretty much encouraged to be an asshole. Groups that would otherwise consider themselves to be a bastion of helpfulness are reduced to packs of snarling dogs when faced with things that don’t quite match their idea of how a dungeon should go.

Often, it’s justified. Just as often, however, it is not.

Myth: At 80, Everyone Will Know the Ins and Outs of Their Class

The majority of the Asshole Mentality stems from the above idea. Yes, most 80s should know their class. Most 80s should understand what gear they need and how to spec, but the fact is, not all of them do. Not every 80 had the support of a guild, group, or knowledgeable friend behind them. Not every 80 was able to understand what they were finding on Google, not every 80 is skilled at separating the grain from the chaff when it comes to dissecting what is good, current information and what isn’t. You hear about clueless DPS and healers all the time, and nobody seems to try to say, “Dude, you want some pointers?” When there’s a failure, people are more willing to jump up and say “You fucking suck, you noob, L2Play!” instead of “I think I know how we can handle this better.” Tanks are automatically screwed unless their HP is at 30,000 or higher (why do you think I wear both Brewfest stamina trinkets on my Death Knight?) and are often subject to the highest, most rage-inducing scrutiny. Guess what, folks? I can tank Heroic UK just fine at 25k-28k HP Unbuffed.

The community has this immediate need to jump somebody that doesn’t meet expectations and a lack of interest in at least offering to help somebody improve.

And we wonder why it’s so hard to find new tanks, good DPS and healers that know what they’re doing?

Fact: Nobody Appreciates Abuse

You know that saying about attracting flies with honey (or is it distracting evil piles of vomit with Fly Honey)? For the most part, it’s true.

I have heard all sides of this. I have heard, “Why bother trying to help when I just get yelled at?” “Nobody likes being told how to play.” “It’s not my job to teach people how to play their class.” “I don’t know everything about the game.”

Fine. That’s fine.

But that doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole if somebody, who is obviously new or completely clueless, doesn’t perform as expected.

I have been in parties at all level ranges where, when an individual was attacked for their performance, pretty much 100% of the time the person lashed out right back at whoever gave them hell. I have been the person that wasn’t performing well and, as soon as I said, “Gimme a break, I haven’t played this toon in forever” or “Well, that’s why I’m running heroics – to get emblems and gear so I won’t suck”, I was left alone. In groups where it was some poor sod against the rest of the group, as soon as I – usually the tank or healer – piped up with, “Dude, it’s okay, we all have to start somewhere. Why don’t you try x, y, z instead?” or “Here’s why what happened Is Not Cool but we will deal because these things happened” … things cooled down.

Being level-headed and not an asshole gets shit done.

The attitude of “it’s not my job to teach” is just as bad as the general assholery. If everyone adopted that frame of mind, can you imagine how shitty the gaming experience would be? I’d still be a fail!hunter. I’d still… well, I’d fail at this game in general because no amount of research makes up for hands-on learning. Something that I was taught as early as High School is that different people have different styles of learning. Some can adapt from reading websites and guides like WoW.com, Elitist Windbags/Jerks and various blogs. Some need to watch videos and see it in action. Others need to be coached in-game. Requiring a different learning style does not make somebody flawed or inferior, it just means that they process information differently.

And that’s okay.

Besides, it does not take much time out of your run to suggest a different approach to a boss, a different set of skills to use, or for a party member to check out a certain blog that’s been suggested to you by a friend or an online community. So, it’s not like you have to write up a lesson plan and teach these people their class from the ground up.

Matojo’s Point

It’s okay to be an asshole in a case of genuine asshattery or stupidity that isn’t caused by somebody being unfamiliar with how things work (such as mages that pull, tanks that refuse to allow drink breaks, etc), but when dealing with somebody that’s brand new or just utterly clueless who most likely needs a helping hand – not cool. If the Newbie turns out to be an asshat in disguise, by all means, fire the cannons.

Remember: People can hit 80 and start into heroics without having any bloody idea of how to play. How else would we have level 80 Mages doing 400DPS, even in quest greens?

Matojo Admits She Has a Tank Addiction

I have been pretty much tanking non-stop on various toons – two warriors, a druid and two death knights – over the past several weeks. With my mood being jumpy it’s been a great way to distract myself while continuing my hermit habits, though it also means I’m really behind on Roleplay and a lot of people are getting twitchy with me.

I digress.

After I dropped Gahiji’s tank gear and turned it into DPS gear, I switched back to tank gear (regemming and reenchanting the entire kit) and turned over to The Frost Side. Gahiji is now sporting a two-hander-centric Frost Tanking spec (admittedly copied from what was pointed out to me by Lodur after I bemoaned my favourite spec’s shitty AoE threat). Since I can’t get dual disease to flow worth shit with Frost, I’m going single disease and having a ball – my threat problems are few, I crit like crazy and my confidence in my Death Knight tanking has started to come back. With Dariahn’s lists and guides combined with the Tankspot DK Tanking Guide, I am pretty much set to work on gearing him up. For what? No idea. He has the DPS sigil, the one with the 200 STR proc, but I’m not replacing that until I get rid of some blues (I think of it as a little extra threat, y’know?). I also, unfortunately, dropped my dodge trinket (from Brewfest) in favour of the +170 STAM trinket from Brewfest, so I have two +170 STAM things on me. This puts me around 30k health and average avoidance with dodge gems, though I will probably replace the pure dodge gems (which are probably A Bad Idea and will get me laughed at) with Stam/Dodge.

First thing’s first – new pants.

I’m also enjoying my warriors. Matojo, who hit 77 this week, is a rage machine – he generates rage like whoa and puts out very high threat, which makes me happy and means I’m getting a lot of compliments about my tanking. One thing I have to say regarding the Vengeance battle group:  my shitty experiences have been few and far between. Thank you, Vengeance. He’s not getting very many upgrades, but this is okay! These things happen.

Tecila on Zul’jin is level 20 and making me realize how stupid the low-level dungeon groups really are, though even Vengeance had a break from the stupid. There was one awesome druid on Ruin somewhere that made me want to hug her, can’t recall her name anymore. Overall though, I know my tanking is solid and I can’t fault myself for the idiocy of others – it’ll get better as I get higher.

The other DK, Nyarah, is Dual Wield and built according to the TankSpot guide. I really, really like DW tanking and haven’t had any difficulty with that – stylistically speaking, it’s pretty similar in rotation to 2-H. Of course, she isn’t 80, so it’s difficult to really gauge the similarities.

I think my favourite is turning out to be my Druid, Varkev, because Druid tanking is so simple but so damn effective. I’m hard to kill and I’m a fucking bear. This is a character that I really want to get to 80, and considering he’s in the Harbingers I can see this happening sooner rather than later.

So that’s what I’ve been doing – tanking. I like to think it’s something I’m good at, I seem to have the instinct for it, even if I’m not the most theorycrafting-minded person out there.

Rambling Incoherency on Raiding

I’ve toyed with the idea of finding a raid group before. It would be great to see the content, experience the lore, puzzle out this shit I’d never checked out before, but there’s that nagging fear…

A lot of my friends and a lot of my blogging friends (and the ones I shamelessly fangirl) are raiders, and I’ve read their frustrations and listened to the same, gaped at the asshats, facepalmed with the tales of epic stupidity, etc. I keep getting told by friends that I’m a good tank/healer/hunter/mage, I’m told my strangers that I’m a good tank/healer, rarely am I told “Good job!” by random people for hitting shit and not getting myself killed.

Then again, all that matters to most are the numbers. Yeah, I may be able to save the healer’s ass by evade-tanking and stunlocking a mob on my 79 Rogue (because the tank’s too stupid to notice the rogue dragging the mob from the healer RIGHT TO HIS SIDE but I digress), but is it recognized? No. Lolaggro. None of my DPS are geared enough to put out the numbers required for most content, and I don’t think I’d be able to get geared quickly enough, nor do I have the experience.

In BC, I was able to run one pre-nerf Kara before nerves kicked in and I turned down the one or two other invites I received from the now-defunct Wolves of the Warchief. Vindicated took me on … one or two post-nerf Kara runs (where my Devilsaur ass-pulled several things and it took us most of the instance to figure out what was happening). After that, a now-dead raiding Alliance had me running VoA and Sarth (no Drakes) on occasion, but scheduling for Naxx sucked so that’s the extent of my raid experience.

Even the Harbingers’ scheduling hasn’t been very good for me.

When I’ve been brave enough to want to hit stuff like Naxx, it’s been my schedule that’s decided to bite me in the ass. When the scheduling has been good and all the stars seemed to align properly, something else would crop up and poof – nope, not going.

Plus, I don’t like the possibility of being yelled at.

In the end, what really keeps me from seriously pursuing any raid experiences are my own fears of failure, of sucking, and my inability to stick to gearing one Godsdamned alt for the purpose of running shit. In all seriousness though, I don’t want to be the person that people go, “Sigh, SHE’S in the run again” over. I guess it wouldn’t matter if I ran with a group as laid back (LOL I KNOW) as I am, that’s willing to teach and isn’t made up of jerks (or if it is, jerks I can get along with) but… feh.

Really, it’s probably for the best. I mean, somebody has to write for the 5-man crowd and it might as well be me. That’s not a bad thing, I love heroics, I love five mans, I love lowbie content.

… Mara, ST and Ulda can go fuck themselves, though.

Tool of the Day: It’s a Cornucopia of Fuckery

Back at'cha, Princess(es).

To be quite honest, I have lots of material – mostly from LFG – for Tools for this week. I mean, lots. I’ve been leveling my Gnome Warrior over on Zul’jin for most of the weekend, so a new battle group means new stupids (but new awesome people and I need to know what a good title for “Awesome Dudes of the Day/Week/Month” is), especially from the perspective of a tank.

I mean, not to say DPS and healers don’t experience fuckery – we do. Oh Gods, we do. Hello, DK tank that rides the threat meters just slightly above a Frost Mage whose only good aspect is that she’s at the hit cap.

This, however, is a completely different kettle of fish.

The Love is in the Air event has added an instance achievement that we’re all familiar with but that I really didn’t experience first-hand (because this? It isn’t the first of its kind) until this year. Prince Keleseth, as well as two other bosses, drops one of two bouquets – Ebon and Red, or something – and the bouquet is part of the meta achievement that goes toward the title and the drake. However, this isn’t the part that’s the problem.

It’s the fucking level 80s that queue into the regular version of the instance and then drop once (if) they win the bouquet.

I am, inevitably, the tank on these runs (because the two toons I’ve been running through this content are tanks, a Feral druid and a Frost Dual Wield Death Knight) and they have both been Retribution Paladins, so I wind up fighting them on the threat meters the entire time they’re in group until I think, “Fuck it, I’m not taunting off him, I’m level 70/72 and he’s fucking 80 and in Tier gear.” Then we hit Kel, Kel drops, so does the bouquet and… poof, dude drops group.

What the hell, man.

You queued up with us lowbies, you made us fight your aggro and now you leave us one member short in an at-level instance whose boss fights are a bitch if you’re lacking in DPS. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

You, achievement-chasing serial group-dropping fuckwits, are the Tools of the Day. Sit on an Armadillo and spin.

At least, when my Death Knight goes chasing this achievement, he’s going in all his defense-capped glory as a tank and I’m stickin’ out the entire thing, because that’s the non-dickish thing to do.

Ode to the Sword and Board

It took me a very, very long time to warm up to warriors. I rolled several that never made it to level 30, then Kezeyah came along and she made it to level 62 before I grew tired of the character concept and had to retire her – that toon was recustomized and became Matojo, who originally was a Hunter. I also had Ojore, who was paired with another character but, due to scheduling conflicts, the partnership was dropped and Ojo has languished for quite a while, inactive, ’til I recently changed him to a Protection warrior.

… And now I have several warriors scattered over three servers.

I don’t know what it is, I never used to like the class, but mechanics changes over the past three years have made leveling them fun. The warrior is my favourite tanking class, followed by Death Knight, Druid, then Paladin and it’s one of the classes that I can level, and level, and level without growing tired of it.

On Thorium Brotherhood I have Matojo (76), Ojore (49) and Briske (10). On Moon Guard, it’s Daniil (10). Then there’s Zul’jin’s Tecila who, at the time of typing this article, is level 12 and steadily climbing.

I love the variety of tools that I have that I can use to grab and hold aggro. Sure, I lack the sheer number of AoE effects of the Death Knight, but once something sticks to me it’s still extremely difficult to peel it off. Matojo, as he is currently geared, hardly takes any damage – hell, he was able to finish off the last 30% or so of that Lich boss in Gundrak without a healer and with careful timing of his cooldowns – and his priorities and rotations just seem to come naturally to me.

Really, it’s like Warrior was the class that I was meant to play, but it took me my entire playtime to figure it out.

So, Warriors, I salute you! You are awesome and you should feel awesome.

Random Acts of Kindness – Matojo Gets a Surprise!

I rolled an alt on Zul’jin, Tecila the Gnome Warrior, because I wanted a gnome warrior and I didn’t want to have another warrior on Moon Guard and I don’t have the room on Thorium Brotherhood for more Alliance – so, I picked ZJ (shush, Lodur). I’ve never been on a PvE server before, either (I started on Eredar, PvP, in 2005, I think).

This evening I was running around on Tecila and was asked to sign a guild charter, so I did and earned 10g for it. After learning some skills and listing a few things on the Auction House, I purchased a stack of Netherweave Cloth and started asking in Trade for a tailor.

The response was really, really fast.

Dozed made Tecila’s first bag. Two other people, including Shushka, messaged me asking if I still needed the help and I politely declined, stating I had found what I needed, and thanked them for the offer.

I logged off after getting my new bag and switched back to TB to earn some Cenarion Expedition rep on my Druid (Varkev NEEDS to be a Guardian of Cenarius) and when I logged back on about 15 minutes ago… there were four bags waiting for me in my mailbox.

Shushka, you are awesome. Thank you for being so kind to a complete stranger!

I even had to make a new category for this sorta thing – Complete Awesome.

What random acts of kindness have you lot experienced?

Tool of the Day: BratTank

In the mornings, I listen to Q107 with John Derringer and the gang and am usually in tears somewhere between Oshawa and Ajax from laughing so hard. This morning, John announced that he was no longer going to do the “Tool of the Day” because his heart just wasn’t in it – as he got older, he had less to be angry about.

Since I’m still young and full of rage, I figured, why not do it myself for a WoW-centric audience? So, Mr. Derringer, I salute you – thanks for the morning laughs and the inspiration.

And everybody who reads Troll Bouquet knows that I have way, way more than enough material to fuel the fire, right? If you don’t, well, damn, pay attention.

Last night was my first time healing as Taashti, Disc Priest of the Sexy Tail, and I did a damned good job of it if I do say so m’self (yaaay bubbles!). In one of the final pulls of Mana Tombs, the tank did not pull back and folk kept getting feared into other groups, so it was a wipe. Up to this point the tank had been whining incessantly about his bad luck with greed rolls, then was capslocking over getting feared and finally, as I was running back, he wanted to be rezzed.

“Well,” said I, as I waggled my ghostly – yet ample – spacegoat butt in the vague direction of the instance, “since I’m dead and running, you better run yer arse back, too.” This was complete with the razzy-face and everything!

In true Melodrama Queen form, the tank flipped, stating that if I wasn’t going to rez him he would leave, and oh wouldn’t that be just tragic? Losing him, wouldn’t it be such a horrible, horrible thing? We would be so devestated, and would have to wait forever for a new tank! The horrors!

Well, that kicked in my Fite Response (which has been enhanced by irritated spine and hip joints and tight back muscles), and I responded in the affirmative: If I run, you run, and by the time I actually find the freaking instance you’ll be inside and alive anyway. He dropped group, the remaining two DPS reiterated that the tank was a brat, I found the instance entrance and we re-queued. A new tank and DPS were found less than five minutes later, I rezzed the poor, lost Warlock (Note To Pugs: “I can’t find my way back in!” guarantees a rez when the healer can get to you. “Rez me”, however, does not) and we finished off the instance with a much more intelligent tank.

You, BratTank-Whose-Name-I-Don’t-Remember, are the first Tool of the Day for Troll Bouquet.