Legacy of Oblivion

Life on the Alliance side is awesome. We’re too cool to travel via zeppelin, so we run to and fro from boats (yeah, it’s so much fun that we can use the phrase “to and fro” here, and if you choose to run on foot, mount, or skip to and fro it is up to you), or spend eight weeks on the back of a bird to get from Western Plaguelands to Booty Bay. Also, there are so many people that you couldn’t be alone if you crawled up dwarf’s ass, and every time you enter a major city, it’s like a freaking mensa meeting.

Living among individuals with such high intellect is a strange new experience, and communication, a difficult endeavor. Until we can learn the language of these higher beings, please consult your guildmates on how to respond, or else we may offend them. Thundrax is the best person to consult. I think there’s something about his special connection with Henry that has enabled him to pick up on the language much more quickly than the rest of us.

It’s a crazy world out there, but as long as the LoO/TAB bunch is by your side, you can ignore those fuckers all you want. Uh, mostly.

So Thundrax and I are standing out in Duskwood, waiting on a couple of folks, when this dorf hunter wanders up to us. He’s looking Thund up and down like a hungry man staring down a steak dinner.

His things not so good. And this is starting to sound a little kinky. Perhaps I should leave. Except that I don’t.

I’m curious what “things” we’re talking about as well, but Zug finally arrives in his usual friendly form.

By this time, everyone else had joined us so we had to seperate Newsman and Thundrax for the evening. Poor Newsman, he was left looking for anyone with “things”.

If you see Newsman, approach with caution. Watch your things, longer or otherwise.

Duskwood is a pretty bizarre place; it seems to be where all of the whackjob hunters hang out. Thund and Caul were helping me finish up a quest when we met this fine gentleman:

Ragefang is a level 60 hunter who decided to run into a house where a level 20′s quest mob spawns, and he thought it would be hilarious for him to sit in the room and continue killing it so we couldn’t finish the quest. In the picture, he is dancing after a kill. This particular dance is the rite a 12 year old participates in once he reaches level 60 and has nothing to do except grief others. This dance is an appeal to his gods, asking them to give him a penis larger than a lil smokie, and a girlfriend.

Perhaps we can hook him up with Newsman.

That’s all for now, have a great weekend.