you want hot? i do lifebloom

Deleted

2010-02-25T10:17:00.006+01:00

It attracted strange Chinese doodles. If I ever gave the impression I understood Chinese or wanted people to comment in Chinese, I'm sorry.
Or that is to say; I'm not sorry. But stop being idiots.

Looking For Tools

2010-01-28T22:18:00.005+01:00

It's been some weeks now, since the brand new Looking for Dungeon system was launched in World of Warcraft, and I love it, I really do. What it does, is that it lets you join a queue, and when there is a spot for you in a group-setup (depending on what roles you've picked), you are picked up and placed in a group, in a random dungeon. In addition there are some gear requirements on some of the later heroics, so if you get Halls of Reflections, you can be sure they aren't newly dinged with a grand total of one epic.

However, there is absolutely no failsafe for tools.

The thing with the LFD system is that it brings out the best in some people, and the worst in others.
For me, it's the worst.
Normally, I am a very sanguine pugger. One of the last to leave the group despite frequent wipes, one of the more patient waiters for new group members, and never fussed about people's dps as long as we're going forward. It's my philosophy that "Ignorance can be cured, stupidity cannot," and with the new LFT system (as I've decided to call it), I've been meeting more stupid people, than ignorant people.

There was the Death Knight that tanked Occulus - who pulled while I was ressing, and then yelled at me for it - who kited the mage around and made me wade through patches of frost to get in range of him, to heal him, and who also completely failed on the red drake on the end boss.

There was the healer who failed to keep me alive on the Forgemaster in PoS, after repeated attempts.

The healer who checked my armory profile because he could "feel that I wasn't def-capped", triumphantly told me that I had a defence of 539 - according to him, the def-cap was 545 (for those not in-the-know, the defcap for the heroics is 535, 540 for raids). I assure you, I kited Scourge-Lord Tyrannus around the frost-patches in THAT instance.

The dps that is completely unable to understand what Overlord's Brand does, and leaves the group in a huff when I (as their tank) dies for the third time.

The dps that stand around hitting Paltress for the entire duration of phase two, never even noticing that she is immune.

The healer that pulled a mob, got himself killed, watched me fight to stay alive for several minutes (yes, I was on my paladin), and ragequitted when we wiped.

On the other hand there are good experiences - perhaps I should make an effort to remember them.

The first Halls of Reflection run I tanked on my Death Knight - the patience of that group, and all the wipes we went through, particularly on the Lich King escape. The hunter in that group is one of the more skilled ones I've met, and I still have him on friends list - and THERE ARE NO CRACKS IN THE ICE! (And no, I did not at any point fall off the ledge in the Lich King event.)

When I first started tanking on the paladin and my gear was pretty shit, I would sometimes get questions about my defcap - and all love to the resto druid who went "It's heroics, guys, no one needs to be defcapped."

The one Occulus run where the healer didn't know how to use the green dragon properly, in which I took it, and managed to show him exactly how to do it right - granted that means everyone did their job right as well, and my job easy - but the "Oh nice," at the end was good to have.

And ofc, the funny one in Halls of Stone, when the healer and the two ranged dps managed to stand on top of each other during shatter - apparently they had forgotten about it - otherwise they were very decent players. Naturally they died, leaving me and the rogue to kill the boss alone - the thing was that the rogue was constantly knocked back, so I basically dps-ed the last 50% of his health on my own.
We lol'ed pretty hard at that, before we moved on.

But the fact remains, I suppose, that the world is full of tools, and you can't get around that. So occasionally, when I can't be bothered to put up with idiocy, I... simply don't have to.

/leave, /quit, /tea.

I love Killing Spree

2009-12-15T11:47:00.003+01:00

Over the years, while leveling my rogue from level 1-60, 60-70, and 70-80 I have often felt that rogues are meant to die. Solo leveling is frustrating at best, having to eat between every mob, unless you're good at stunning - I leveled mutilate because of one thing only - the amount of combo-points you could get for Kidney Shot, which enabled you to keep the opponent stunned for 95% of the fight.
Basically once I hit 80 I left her hanging around in Dalaran, going for the occasional heroic (but having three other 80s they were few and far between) and leveling her professions. Then came patch 3.3. And suddenly the ease with which you gain gear (it was already easy enough) trippled. Not to talk about groups! An undergeared rogue pugging heroics with the old system? Not a chance. Now all it takes me is 5 minutes or less in LFD and I'll be in - if it takes longer I can do dailies while I wait! It took me all of two days to get a gearlevel that satisfied the LFD tool and allowed me to pug the new instances - and before I came to Halls of Reflections I had a set of Mutilate weapons and a set of Combat weapons.

So... naturally - I went Combat - and found the new end-tier talent - Killing Spree - and never looked back...

Killing Spree
10 yd range
Instant 2 min cooldown
Requires Melee Weapon
Step through the shadows from enemy to enemy within 10 yards, attacking an enemy every .5 secs with both weapons until 5 assaults are made, and increasing all damage done by 20% for the duration. Can hit the same target multiple times. Cannot hit invisible or stealthed targets.

Instant	2 min cooldown

Pally tanking

2009-11-29T01:41:00.001+01:00

Is fun.
But hard on the mana.
I have to figure out if holy shield is something i should hold up constantly. And which of my "oh shit!" buttons I should prioritize.
I have so many :s

Dragonfire

2009-11-26T19:06:00.005+01:00

A short and not so very fantastic piece of poetry from myself.

On dragonwing, across the land,
to snow and ice,
to frozen waste.
- Go warmage!
- Go Dragonqueen!

Through sands of time, turn by turn,
through history,
through untold stories
- In time!
- In time! Say Nozdorumu

On dragondreams, where few may tread,
to nightmares,
to Ysera's realm
- Where to?
- Where from, green Dragonflight?

Of dragonmagic, bright and blue,
to madness,
to all blue dragons
- Where have they gone?
- Oh Malygos!

Of darkened land, and darkened sky,
of ashes
of twilight
- Dragonfire!
- Dragonfire, Neltharion!

Tanking 101?

2009-10-14T14:13:00.003+02:00

So yesterday, tuesday the 13th of October, I tanked my first raid. I'd say I was cool as a cucumber and did everything correctly, but even Kanye West would agree that would be the best lie of all time.

Fun?

Hell yes.

It started out wonderfully - with a pug Onyxia10 raid while we waited for the proper raidstart. Me maintanking. Fun - I did great, until the last pull. 'One more try guys, let's give this our best!'

Add a momentarily confused tank when turning Onyxia around to face away from the raid, I realised the second before it happened where this was going. Boom - I swear that was what I heard in my mind's ear - as half the raid was cleaved to death.

With that experience fresh in my mind, I went, somewhat anxious, to Trial of the Champion10, as an offtank.

Trust me, I was shivering in my pants when we pulled the first boss, but it went fine, and in phase two I picked up my - not two, but one - jormungar worm, and tanked him flawlessly... all the way, until Acidmaw died, and I was left with an enraged Dreadscale... facing the raid.

Boom, frontal cone aoe, raidwipe.

Second time was flawless, and it set the pace for the rest of the night, second time being the charm, apparently.

Lord Jaraxxus - I tanked adds and it wasn't my fault this time because I was told to stay away from the Infernals who wiped us on 10%. Second go I did my best to taunt them off people, and whether or not that made a difference I don't know, might've been luck.

Faction champions were annoying to be honest. Bloody resto druid getting immune to cyclone - haxx I tell you, haxx. I don't have that in MY treeform! First attempt saw us dead, second attempt saw them dead.

The Twin Val'kyr - let me tell you, I like this fight! Unfortunately one of our healers had never been here before (and also hadn't read tactics, no fault of his), so he forgot to switch colour before a vortex. Without his healing people started dying.

Second attempt, again, flawless.

Lastly - Anub'arak. Ok so my first big add burrowed. Big deal ;)

This took us around four or five tries as far as I remember, I wasn't really counting. We had some inexperienced people who failed on the chasing part (but learned from their mistakes), then we had some dps *cough* Wolfy, Doc *cough* that died early on, and thus we lacked the dps to get through phase 3, the first time we got to it.

However, on the next try we nailed him perfectly.

That was my first raid-tanking experience since Kara (which Drae basically solo-tanked without me anyway, the one time I tried :P), and to be honest it was a lot of fun. Fortunately we pugged some really nice people (with the exception of the paladin who left once he realised he couldn't need on ret-items), who knew what they were doing most of the time, and if they didn't they learned quickly.

Drama at the Wrathgate

2009-09-20T22:43:00.004+02:00

All credit to Jarodan on the worldofwarcraft.com forums (click title for link), but I thought this deserved to be reposted - and read - by as many people as possible. Read it through, if you're not laughing by the end of it you're either a) not a WoW player or b) ... wth is wrong with you?

Highlord Bolvar Fordragon walks among his men.

Alliance Soldier 1: Highlord Bolvar!
Alliance Soldier 2: Thank the Light!
Alliance Soldier 3: For Lordaeron!
Alliance Soldier 4: For the Alliance!

Bolvar roars as he and his men charge into the undead.

Highlord Fordragon: Back, you mindless wretches!

The gates open and Scourge vrykul, speaking in their native tongue, charge out.

Highlord Fordragon: Fight on, brothers!

As the battle continues, Saurfang the Younger observes the conflict and raises his axe to rally his soldiers.

Saurfang the Younger: Rise up, sons of the Horde! Blood and glory await us!

Back at the battle, Bolvar glances up at the sound of an orcish horn, and Saurfang and his troops arrive.

Saurfang the Younger: Lok'tar ogar! For the Horde!

Horde army: FOR THE HORDE!

Bolvar and Saurfang fight side-by-side.

Highlord Fordragon: I was wondering if you'd show up!

Saurfang the Younger: I couldn't let the Alliance have ALL the fun today!

Saurfang swings his axe, killing three undead vrykul in one slash. After the battle ends, Bolvar and Saurfang approach the gate.

Highlord Fordragon: Arthas! The blood of your father, of your people, demands justice! Come forth, coward, and answer for your crimes!

The gate rumbles and opens again, revealing the Lich King, Frostmourne in hand.

The Lich King: You speak of justice? Of cowardice? I will show you the justice of the grave and the true meaning of fear!

As the Lich King approaches, undead legions rise behind him.

Saurfang the Younger: Enough talk! Let it be finished!

Saurfang charges. The Lich King swings Frostmourne, shattering Saurfang's axe and killing the orc instantly. Frostmourne consumes the soul of the slain orc.

Highlord Fordragon: You will pay for all the lives you've stolen, traitor.

The Lich King: Boldly stated. But there is nothing you can--

An explosion and a green cloud behind Bolvar interrupts the confrontation.

The Lich King: What?

Laughter from the heights above the Wrathgate as Grand Apothecary Putress approaches.

Grand Apothecary Putress: Did you think we had forgotten? Did you think we had forgiven?

As he speaks, the catapults come forward.

Grand Apothecary Putress: Behold, now, the terrible ven--

Kanye West has appeared beside Putress on the cliff face.

Kanye West: YO PUTRESS, I'M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU, I'MMA LET YOU FINISH, BUT ARTHAS HAD ONE OF THE BEST BETRAYALS OF ALL TIME. THE BEST BETRAYAL OF ALL TIME. PEACE.

Kanye West has teleported away!

Grand Apothecary Putress: ...

Highlord Fordragon: ...You can still fire the catapaults if you want.

Grand Apothecary Putress: Death to the Scourge! And death to th-... $#!% it. I'll be in the Undercity.

How I reduced my incoming Spam by 90%

2009-07-15T09:15:00.004+02:00

Let's face it, I love Gmail, Gtalk, and much of what Google does in this world. The mail-service is one of the better ones I've encountered, little to no advertising, clean and easy to use.
Gtalk - it would be perfect if I could only chat with people on msn through it, without all the fricking annoying and incredibly stupid themes, smilies, nudges, pictures - GAH.

Simplicity. That is what I love about Google. Give me what I want without extras!

Of course, nobody's perfect, so one of my mail-accounts has been on the recieving end of quite a bit of spam recently. It all goes into the spam folder, so it's not a big problem, but I still find it annoying.
Yes, I know it's my own fault for registering to dodgy sites such as Facebook, but still, it's kinda frustrating and rude and stupid.

However, on the occasions I peeked into the spamfolder, I noticed an increasing number being addressed from my very own Gmail-account. I don't know how this works, but basically spammers are able to fake my own mail-address, making my spamfolder look like I have an obsessive, compulsive need to send myself spam.

To this I found one very simple, yet very effective solution.
I started filtering myself.
One simple filter, one mail-address blocked, and my spam reduced by 90%. From thirty-pluss spam-messages a day, to three.

Of course I can no longer use my preferred method of transferring files from pc to pc, which is sending them to myself on mail, but that's a minor obstacle. As any self-respecting geek, I've got more than one mail-account, one of which I keep very, very clean.
It's not registered to Facebook, which in my opinion explains everything.

A small fanfiction piece about Tirion Fordring

2009-05-01T13:59:00.009+02:00

They had come from far and wide to pay their last respects to Tirion Fordring, the Ashbringer, Supreme Commander of the Argent Crusade, and the man who struck the killing blow to the Lich King, Arthas.

They watched her as she claimed her place just behind the carriage that would carry her husband. Perhaps they waited for some weakness, some sign of her grief – but it did not come. Her steps did not falter, her expression did not change, and no tears were forthcoming. She walked calmly, with customary dignity, as the procession slowly made their way out of Mardenholde Keep.

A soft breeze caught her hair, and exposed a pale face with glittering green eyes to the world. She had forgone the traditional shawl and allowed her hair to hang loose.
At sixty-one she was still a very beautiful woman, her hair still as black as night, with not a single strand of grey in it. There were those who had envied Lord Fordring because of her – where others and dismissed her as a mere thing of beauty and amusement for an old man.

A few of them scoffed at her cold dignity. Lord Fordring had been much loved by everyone, a hero of several wars, the founder of the Argent Crusade, but his wife did not grieve his passing.
Apparently, even heroes made the occasional bad choice.

Another day, a different time, she would have caught their glances and read their faces and known what they were thinking. She would have cared very little. She had not lived this long by caring about the opinions of others. Only one mattered – her own.
And his. Ever since she met him, his opinion mattered.

Only those who knew her well saw the tightening around her eyes as she fought to keep her countenance.

The carriage stopped before a large oak. She heard the crowd behind her – whispering, crying, talking. She ignored their voices, knowing that they would be kept back by her men. By her husband’s men.
She would allow them to see Tirion one last time. She would allow them that. But this moment belonged to her.

Slowly, reverently, his body was moved from the carriage and onto the pyre. Fifty years ago it had been customary to bury the bodies of the dead in the earth. The coming of the Scourge had changed that. For the younger generations, funeral pyres were the only tradition they knew. By the time her generation was gone, only the ruins of mausoleums and the remnants of graveyards would stand witness to the old ways.

Cool, green eyes rested upon his face. It was the face of a warrior – sharp and defined. While alive his face had been marred by grief and toil, but she knew many of the lines were from smiling. The wrinkles around his eyes, the lines around his mouth. In death, they were all faded, and his face was placid and still.
Thirty years ago his hair had been steely grey, however strands of deep brown could still be found upon closer inspection – and she had made sure to inspect.

Now it was completely white.

His eyes were closed. Somehow that made her throat ache. She knew that if she turned around she would be able to see his eyes – two pairs of them.
She chose not to.
Two hands were folded across his chest – white and frail. She could remember a time when they could lift the heavy Ashbringer with ease. Only very rarely had she been able to best him in a sword fight.
She could remember how soft and gentle they could be when they made love, and how they would wrap around her and hold her close. Always warm.

The hands of a warrior. The hands of a lover. The hands of a father.

It was time now, to let him go. Her Widow’s Wreath. She had it made of icethorn – a little flower that grew in the melting waters of Icecrown Glacier, a wilful and sturdy white bloom among razorsharp thorns. Sometimes, in the midst of ugliness and danger, you can find beauty.
She stepped forward, slowly, and it gently to rest upon his chest. With the exception of Alexandros and Uther, everyone was too far away to see that her hand shook.
The words she whispered to him, no one heard.
‘Of all the things you gave me, Tirion, your love was the most beautiful.’

Then she allowed the pyre to be lit.

The magical fire licked up around the wooden pyre. Soon it would reach the earthly shell that had once been her husband. It would ensure that Lord Tirion Fordring was properly incinerated, and that neither his body nor ashes could be used or raised, after his death.

For one wild moment she considered joining him on the pyre, but it was only a flash of a thought and she spared it no second glance. There had been women – and men – who had thrown themselves on the pyre with their dead spouse. She would not be one of them. The widow of Tirion Fordring would not leave this world on such a dramatic whim. Until the last, she would keep her dignity and honour. He deserved that much.

That night, when she was alone, she left her bed – their bed – and went to the window. In her hands she held a sword encased in a worn scabbard. The leather had once been black and shining, but many years and many battles had taken its toll and the leather was now dull. The grip had been of white pinewood, but now it was darkened, by soil, blood and sweat.

A soft zing sounded in the quiet room as she slowly pulled the sword from the sheath. Where the scabbard and grip had been darkened and changed by age, the blade had remained blank and sharp. At first glance it was a simple sword, with no decorations, however if you looked closer you could see golden inlays on the crossguard and pommel, and on the chappè an image of a prancing horse. The Fordring coat of arms.
Below it there was engraved one word.
Nisheva.

It had been a gift. In Lordaeron it was customary to give women gifts when they had given birth – if she had sons the gift was often more valuable than with daughters. Normally the gift consisted of jewellery, dresses, or land.
Tirion Fordring had known his wife well enough to know that such gifts would not be appreciated. She had no need for either. As such he had commissioned this particular sword – dwarvenmade - for her. Few women had understood the gift. While most men could appreciate a good sword, few of them realised just how much money that sword had cost.
She had been overjoyed, grateful and delighted, and the sword had followed her in every battle ever since. To this day, twenty-seven years later, it was still as sharp as the day it was made.

The sword was soundlessly returned to the scabbard.

Her life had not been an easy one – one war tended to slide over to the next, and much of her life had been spent in a saddle with a sword in hand. Yet these last thirty years, despite being filled with war and strife, seemed so very bright to her. It was as if the memories themselves were overlaid with a golden shine. She could not remember ever losing hope, and the years that was counted as the darkest years of their generation, were, for her, filled with happiness and laughter.

In the future, she knew, laid peace. Her sons would fight fewer wars and experience less grief. But where the world around her saw peace and prosperity, she saw nothing. Her future was laid out before her in the dull light from an old moon – bleak and grey.
She knew that the pain would fade with time. She knew she would live on. She would give what love she had left to her sons, and their children and families.
But she would always be less than what she once was.
She had given a piece of herself to Tirion Fordring, and he had taken that with him, to the grave. His light had been extinguished and she could not light the way alone.

In the darkness of her room, she knelt on the floor and clutched her sword – his gift – to her chest.
Alone, she wept.

Patch 3.1.0

2009-04-16T13:41:00.006+02:00

Yesterday, on wednesday the 15th of April, we got patch 3.1.0. First major patch since the release of WotLK. Ulduar, dualspecs, new fancy changes and achievements, Argent Tournament and stuff.

I have many thoughts on the patch. I was actually quite disappointed - because the fun changes isn't going to do much for me, and the changes that DOES give me something... well meh.

Ulduar
The new 10 and 25 man instance! Titans, earthen and much more! I'm not going to see this in well... probably ever, but hopefully we'll get some respite from the 'WotLK is too easy!' whiners. /eyes certain people and giggles

Dualspecs
FUN! The 1k fee is kind of steep, and it's never going to pay off (because I don't respec very often, so it's usually 5 gold every six months or something to that effect). However, I now have a fancy button I can click that will switch between feral cat spec (soloing rawr) and my belowed resto spec. I have missed it.
Ofc I also had to sink another thousand gold into my death knight - blood tanking and unholy dps respectively, and then another for my enhancement shaman's resto spec. I like the way the bar changes with specs, and remembers the buttons. Speccing made easy and sexy. With any luck I'll have more sense than spending 1k gold on my rogue, mage, warlock and hunter - Though I guess the hunter might get a survival/beastmastery combo after a while. Maybe.

The downside to those 3k is ofc that
1. It's 100% wasted gold, because
2. I don't raid, and
3. I rarely need to change specs. But who cares?

Professions
Meh. And yay.
Inscription gets the 'meh' because I now have to farm my recipes. MEH.
I guess I must start doing dailies and get some exhalted reputations. That'll give me mobs to kill; farming without another purpose than getting inscription techniques is... meh.

All the other professions gets a yay, because for the most part they were made easier to level (cooking and fishing), or got some new recipes (enchanting, leatherworking, jewelcrafting, tailoring). Fishing got some cool changes in particular, and my druid finally got the 160th cooking recipe, even though it was a pain to go to Bael Modan to get Dig Rat Stew (bind on pickup FTL). I haven't picked up the new fishing rod on all my characters (as some of them don't have the skill yet) but both my Rogue and Death Knight has a nice upgrade there.

Argent Tournament
Recipe for disaster. Everyone wants to get Exhalted with The Silver Covenant (I TOLD you the Hippogryph would be available eventually), and the place is going to be crowded for ages. I swear. But I want the tabard, the mounts, and the epics, same as everyone else, so I guess I'll be stuck up there for the next year or so. Together with all the mobstealers.
Isle of Quel'danas II.

Nisheva the Explorer

2009-03-27T21:03:00.004+01:00

On the 27th of March, 2009, at 21:00, my Death Knight, Nisheva, reached level 80. It has taken a bit more time than I anticipated, but I'm pretty proud none-the-less.

Nisheva is a human, and has been through some pretty nasty things during her days as a Death Knight. I've done a bit of creative writing (for my own enjoyment), and she's basically a fanatic follower of whomever she gives her loyalty to. At one point it was the Lich King, but after the event at Light's Hope Chapel she bound herself to Tirion Fordring and would pretty much die for him - and not the 'OMG Highlord Tirion Fordring squeeeee fangirl death' but the fatalistic 'this is worth dying for and I go happily for Highlord Tirion Fordring death'.

In a world torn by conflict, females have a tendency to draw the shortest straw. Hailing out of Strahnbrad Nisheva escaped the worst ravagings of the Scourge – but no part of Lordaeron went untouched. And in a world ruled by anarchy no one is safe, and the evil of men soon took over what the undeads had ignored.

Jaded and alone she was driven from her home, an easy prey for mightier powers. Molded into something that did not even remotely resemble the girl she once was, she became one of the Lich King’s foremost Death Knights.
But the Light never forgets its children, even though its children might forget the Light.

With the defection of the Death Knights she was a leaf in the wind, lost, without a master, and without a direction.
But there was one who showed her the way. Not through persuasion, not through power, not through manipulation – but through kindness, patience and love.
He was a man of insurmountable power, to whom she was not a pawn on a chessboard, nor merely a female – but a student, an equal, a friend.
He was Tirion Fordring – the only man who could stand up to the Lich King himself.

Loremaster Lessiel

2009-03-25T12:00:00.005+01:00

It took me a bit of time. It took me a bit of effort. It took some determination. It took me a touch of ... persuasive action. However, a couple of days ago, I sat in Icecrown with five 5-man groupquests in my questlog, a counter set to 138 completed quests, my entire guild in Naxxramas, and felt like falling asleep.

Then, Nez logged on. He was forcefully recruited to help me out with Second Chances, and its followup, The Admiral Revealed.

The following ziiiiiiiiiiiiiiing was epic, and I'm quite proud to call myself Loremaster Lessiel. Alliteration for the win. Cheers and goodbye. Next up is my Death Knight. (Just kidding, I'm not that insane. I hope.)

Goldselling adds on the World of Warcraft forums - teh horror!

2009-02-03T21:07:00.002+01:00

If you listen to this radioshow by TotalBiscuit of www.wcradio.com (which I heartily recommend), you'll learn all about it.
However, TB, when you're discussing such a serious topic, why did you make me fall of my chair laughing before you even got started?

'Allthough why they had to put the word "advertisement" in there I really cannot imagine. Really! It says: "Wrath of the Lich King, in the stores now!", and it says "advertisement" next to it.
THANKS guys, for the information! Perhaps you'd like to put the word "website" above the website, just in case we were confused.'

Lvl 80, an Achievement?

2008-12-27T20:17:00.003+01:00

Today my druid dinged lvl 80. I was pleased that I finally got there, after having spent a lot of time non-levling, because I didn't want to hit 80 before Christmas.
I dinged in Grizzly Hills, on the 86th quest in that zone (the achivement 'Fo Grizzle ma Shizzle' is 85 quests), having finished all quests in Borean Tundra, Howling Fjord, Dragonblight, Scholazar Basin (save one) and Grizzly Hills.

While pleased, and eager to get my other chars started on the levling path, there is one small thing to mention;
That the achievement I got upon delivering the 85th Grizzly Hills quest (yes, I got it on the same delivery as 'Fo Grizzle ma Shizzle'), was more satisfactory than dinging level 80.

Liz, the Seeker

When pigs can fly

2008-12-11T13:46:00.001+01:00

Or...
"When Ragnaros respecs frost."
- TB

Can you feel attached to a character in a Video Game? (Wrathgate Spoiler)

2008-12-02T10:59:00.003+01:00

Some would think I'm insane for getting emotional over a video game.
Said people needs to really broaden their horizon.
World of Warcraft is an ever evolving story, and I am a person who gets attached to characters in a story - it be a book, a film, or a video game.
Bolvar Fordragon has been a constant character in WoW since I entered Stormwind at level 14. Before Wrath he was the staunch guy who could kill a huge number of elite dragons that spawned in Stormwind Keep from time to time - the guy who protected the young prince.
There were those who mocked him for being unable to stand up to lady Prestor, Onyxia - but in Wrath his character is expanded on, as if he came into his right when Varian Wrynn returned, as a powerful commander and friend of the king. He left the position of Regent of Stormwind, and became what he was meant to be, a warrior on the front lines.

Then came the Wrathgate.

"We're finished. No escape. For any of us."

When Bolvar fell, defeated, in front of the Wrathgate, without hope, only knowing his failure - I must admit my eyes were a tad moist. And now it's up to me to pick up the sword (or the shield, as it were), and complete his task.
"You will pay for all the lives you've stolen, traitor!"

And yes, I will be returning to the gate and watch this cutscene again... and again... and again. And then I will level my alts and do the questline again... and again... and again.
"Did you think we had forgotten? Did you think we had forgiven? Behold now the terrible vengance of the Forsaken!
Death to the Scourge, and death to the Living!"

The Evils of teh Intartubes

2008-11-17T16:01:00.005+01:00

I have never been a person for viritual social sites. The mindless forumposting about mindless, useless topics, the collecting of friends, mindbogglingly boring polls - it never made any sense to me.
So naturally I failed horribly at them, as I had no incentive to find my friends (I had friends in real life) and no incentive to express my opinion (who on earth listens to the internet?).
I had an incentive, or a purpose, once. On the first side I ever joined (Viritual Hogwarts, later evolving to VH - now dead), you could get stars for post count, and 1000 posts was 5 stars. I felt so proud when I did that.

Sometimes these sites reaches a cult status of sorts. If you're not registered with a quadzillion of friends you're a loser.
Well I thought that was pretty stupid, so I never joined any.

Once, a friend talked me into joining something called 'Blink' (Norwegian thing in connection to db.no). Five minutes after registering I got an email from a 43 yr old male from somewhere in Norway, and I conversed with him until he suggested that we meet, because he would come by my city on a business trip. I was 16.
My first thought was; 'LOL! You think I'm that stupid?' and I never sent him a reply email.

I have always counted myself as fairly intelligent, and as a child I was always taught to be careful with giving out my real name and address on the internet - 'careful' as in 'never'.
I guess I was lucky. The first community I joined was the beforementioned Viritual Hogwarts. As can be deducted by the name, a Harry Potter fansite. This was rather closely watched by the owner, AD, and I can not remember anyone ever being unpleasant. Mostly we were children or young adults, and that's where I learnt the hows and whys of forumposting, internetslang and whatnot.
I remember having a pet owl named 'Horny' - I later realised what that actually meant, but it was a Horned owl so it made sense to me...
I remember creating two accounts, and being horribly afraid it'd be discovered.
I remember getting a date for a Halloween Ball and he forgot about me.
And I remember Dr. Hannibal Lecter, whom I always had to defend my brains from. I had some laughs at that. He was a Slytherin by the way. I was a Rawenclaw.

So instead of joining these potentionally dangerous sites where you find those pshycos that scour the pages for innocent, gullible young girls, I joined this relatively innocent site. Looking back I realise I was both childish and inexperienced, but I still value what it taught me; the internet is truly a great web, and the tracks you make will remain there forever. I'm sure if you visited VH and did a search on 'Rachel' or 'Rachel Dragonrider' you'd find a whole lot of interesting things I've written.

VH eventually lost its fun-ness. For a while I amused myself with petopia.com but this also became boring, because a) I've never enjoyed flash games that much so I never became insanely rich, b) all the rare pets I wanted was impossible to get hold of, and c) you could only have so many accounts and only 4 pets per account and I wanted a whole lot more than that. In the end I lost some of my accounts because you had to log in with birth dates, and since I had more accounts than allowed I had inserted random birthdates that I could not remember.
This was before I learned how they could actually track your IP address.

By then I had also moved on... to World of Warcraft.
This venue captured my interest in a way single player games never had - most likely because the single player games I played was strategy games - because that was what my brothers always bought. FPS and RPG was a lot more fun in my opinion, but as the only girl my voice wasn't heard. To say the least.
The thing about World of Warcraft is that it's an online game, and I particularly enjoyed that. The way I see it, that's the fun part about the game - to find a group of people you can get along with and play with - and learn to avoid the retarts, which you can easily do by turning off General, Trade and Yell chat. This is a particular priority of mine since Wrath of the Lich King shipped last week, and the amount of retards has increased exponentially. 'Where are the arena masters?', 'Where can I find quest A and npc B?', 'Where is the Flight Master?', 'How can I get to Northrend?', 'What's the daily Heroic?'
In these cases I find myself struggling to reply in a polite manner. The appropriate answers (which I keep inside) are 'ASK A FUCKING GUARD!', 'READ YOUR FUCKING QUEST LOG!' 'BY THE FUCKING BIG GREEN EXCLAMATION MARK!', 'PAY FUCKING ATTENTION, IF YOU MISSED STORMWIND HARBOUR YOU'RE DAMN BLIND AND SHOULD NOT BE PLAYING THIS GAME!', and 'FUCKING QUESTGIVER IS IN SHATTRATH; FUCKING YOU ARE IN SHATTRATH! GO FUCKING CHECK!'

Yes thanks, I needed to get that out there.

Anyway.
Onto what spurred the creation of this post.
The internet can be a dangerous place - but only for children and retards. Display a little bit of common sense (or uncommon sense, as it were) and you'll do fine. If someone wants to hurt you they'll find you anyway, but they'll always go for the easiest victim first, so posting real name, picture and real address on your homepage is probably not the best idea.
On the other hand, giving out your real name has become more and more accepted in various internet communities, and I'm not opposed to it, even though I am more sceptical to it than many others - and I never give it to random strangers. I don't count my guild on Hellscream as random strangers any longer, because we have played together for so long. I know some of their names, they know mine, but some have never and will never reveal theirs - which is understandable, and I don't mind.

In this case I know them well enough to trust them with my real name, and if they can't be trusted, what can they do with it? Granted there are not many people in the world with my name, and they could probably find me if they wanted to, but unless they're psycotic enough they'll never travel to Norway to find me and rape me or something equally stupid.
I guess I should never say never, but quite honestly I think it's less dangerous that they know my name, than it is to walk home at 1 am in the morning.

Nuff said about that.

I should probably get to the point.
Facebook. One of these cult-sites. If you don't have it, you suck.
I still don't get these kind of pages, and I did not register an account for it - for the longest time.
I'm sad to say that I recently did, because it is a tool to keep in contact with friends and family. That said I don't like Facebook. At all. It's invasive, crowded with idiots, overhyped, probably full of harmful software, completely and utterly useless in the great scheme of things. Still I gave in.
And you know what? I feel like it's invading my privacy, spreading its nasty fingers to every corner of the internet and sharing me with the world - without my permission!

First I registered with my real name. I did not want to, because I am used to registering with fake names. I, in fact, have a particular way of creating my fake names, they usually have a story or a theme. I like names.
But not so this time. I registered with my real name and real last name - because my siblings would never find me or understand who I was if I registered as anything else. This in and on itself is not so bad, because on a whole I would just be one name amongst millions, living in relative anonymousness.
Here comes what makes me uncomfortable.
Those of my online friends (through World of Warcraft) who know my name, can now find me on Facebook. Here they can learn my real last name - which I incidentally have never told anyone I have met online before. Their friends will be able to see me on their friends list, etc, etc, ad nausium.
They can go to my friends list and find several persons with the same last name as I; my siblings and my cousins. The internet suddenly has far more information about me, and it's pretty damn unprotected.
At one point I tagged myself on one of my sister's pictures, and this means that her friends will be able to recognise me. Am I comfortable with that? Not at all. In fact I am not comfortable with her putting up pictures of me on a global website with millions of members at all.

I'm not internet stupid. I've learned a lot about how to move around on it over the years, and I know how to protect myself, and what to avoid. One of the things I've been most insistent on, is keeping my private information private. In some cases, as I have mentioned, I have given out information, such as real first name, country and city, but this has always been in relatively small and protected communities. Never on a place visited by millions, such as Facebook. Always to persons I have been in contact with for a long, long time.

By creating a Facebook Profile (which took about three minutes tops) the wall that shielded my privacy and protected my anonymity was made a whole lot more transparent. Facebook blurred the line and joined these two worlds.
And I don't like it.

The New POTUS

2008-11-05T14:32:00.005+01:00

Today - or was it yesterday? - The United States of America got themselves a new President. For the first time, ever, he is an Afro-American.
And this, apparently, is pretty big news.

To be fair, I'm not an expert on the US. Frankly I'm not an expert on anything concerning politics, and I don't really care overmuch unless it concerns myself. Point being, US politics and whatnot does concern me, because it concerns the whole world. Why USA has this influence would probably require a couple of courses in history, finance and politics together, so I can't claim to be an expert there either.

Oftentimes us Europeans look upon the US and frown. They rate very high on crime, murder, social problems, racist issues, etc, etc, etc, and it worries us that they are a 'superpower'.
Sometimes I agree.
Other times I think we may look at them with more friendly eyes. They are a very young nation, barely 200 years of common history.
200 years.
Compare that to France, Germany, Switzerland, Great Britain - heck even Norway, Sweden and Denmark, which are the countries closest to my heart. Sweeden was united under one king 800 years ago, Norway and Denmark about the same, and their population is mainly comprimised of people who's lived in the area for more than two thousand years (probably more; I haven't exactly studied ancient history).
USA is merely a toddler in comparision - how can we expect them to behave prefectly all the time, when we haven't exactly been the best examples?
The saying goes; 'Do as I say, not as I do.'
The problem with the USA being, of course, it can throw a solid tantrum, and has had it's emancipation from Europe already.

Nevertheless, comparing the USA to a child (a powerful one, mind you) isn't entirely correct - it must be done in irony.
The question is however, how will this new, Afro-American President change his country? Or will he? Is he not a citizen of the United States? What makes him different?
I don't know. I will have to wait and see. I can just say, that whoever writes his speeches is pretty darn good.

Hello, Chicago.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America.
It's the answer that led those who've been told for so long by so many to be cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this date in this election at this defining moment change has come to America.

A little bit earlier this evening, I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Sen. McCain.

Sen. McCain fought long and hard in this campaign. And he's fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine.

We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.

I congratulate him; I congratulate Gov. Palin for all that they've achieved. And I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart, and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on the train home to Delaware, the vice president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next first lady Michelle Obama.

Sasha and Malia I love you both more than you can imagine. And you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the new White House.

And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother's watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight. I know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my sister Maya, my sister Alma, all my other brothers and sisters, thank you so much for all the support that you've given me. I am grateful to them.

And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best -- the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America.

To my chief strategist David Axelrod who's been a partner with me every step of the way.

To the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington. It began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.

It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep.

It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth.

This is your victory.

And I know you didn't do this just to win an election. And I know you didn't do it for me.

You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime -- two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.

Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us.

There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after the children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage or pay their doctors' bills or save enough for their child's college education.

There's new energy to harness, new jobs to be created, new schools to build, and threats to meet, alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there.

I promise you, we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president. And we know the government can't solve every problem.

But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years -- block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night.

This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were.

It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other.

Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers.

In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let's resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.

Let's remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity.

Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.

To those -- to those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.

That's the true genius of America: that America can change. Our union can be perfected. What we've already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.

And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.

Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.

This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes, we can.

Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.

-Barack Obama, President of the United states, on the 5th of November, 2008

Good luck.

anger management

2008-09-21T16:18:00.002+02:00

PFFFFT!

The Brewfest event has begun. I have been waiting for this for some time now. Mainly because I have a draenei Shaman who likes rams. She's exhalted with Ironforge and has a Swift Brown Ram. She's been doing some bg-token collecting and has the Alterac Valley Ram. She's got the Black War Ram on her wish list.

The only Ram really missing form her collection (considering the 3 she don't have - Black War, Swift Grey and Swift White - are pretty easily attainable) is the Swift Brewfest Ram.

600 marks? Easy work.

I thought.

BUT NO! You cannot get this from tickets/tokens this year! It does indeed drop from an event boss in BRD, but still - GAH!

At least my hunter could get it. She was level 40 last year and managed to get the lvl 40 mount, so she could access the Swift one at the vendor this year.

GUTTED!

My ram collection has a major hole in it :(

new post!

2008-09-21T01:51:00.002+02:00

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Blogging is not my thing. I just don't have enought to say! Ofc I could go on about what I had for dinner, but giving that I'm a student that would be 'pizza, spagetthi, pasta, nachos, pancakes, chocolate' and then this would repeat itself.

Any normal student, at 01:54 on a sunday morning would be pretty drunk right now. I don't get drunk by one gin and tonic though.

I'm not that lightweight, Val!

Better get to bed. Will be up tomorrow to play Spore or WoW I guess. Spore is pretty cool. Unfortunately it's also rather shallow so it won't keep my intrest for very long.

About as long as it'll take me to play through normal and hard mode. Which may take me a couple of years, cus currently all the monsters in hard mode whip my arse and I have no idea what I did to make them angry. Was planning to go through it all being 100% pacifist and just dance through it all.

Then I grew a brain and apparently all the others did too cus suddenly they were all hostile. Figures.

Alicia's Poem

2008-08-16T00:50:00.003+02:00

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
across Northrend's bright and shining snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,
on Westfall's fields of golden grain.

I am in the morning hush,
of Stranglethorn's jungle, green and lush.

I am in the drums loud and grand,
the thunderous hooves across Nagrand.

I am the stars warmly gleaming,
over Darnassus softly dreaming.

I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

- For Caylee Dak

And here is the original poem;

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

- By Mary Frye

Beta Key...

2008-07-30T23:57:00.001+02:00

I want one.
Gief.

Legacy of the Aspects

2008-07-29T11:57:00.002+02:00

I have done a great deal of research about the Aspects and their titan creators - as much as any human could in a lifetime. There were five Aspects when the titans left this world: they were mighty dragons tasked with protecting the world of Azeroth.
Their tales are vast and varied, and even now, in spite of all the information I have gathered, I know that there is much more to be learned of these magnificient creatures.
Much of the knowledge I have now I could not have possibly learned on my own. Because of this, I am extremely grateful to the night elves. It was only with their help that I have as many details as I do. As a result of our interactions, I am under the impression that their beginnings are much more closely tied to the Aspects than I had first thought. However, they guard their secret far too closely for even me to know for certain.
The information I learned of the Aspects I put here for others to reference in the future. I know ti will prove useful, as I feel that these dragons will have a much greater effect on our world as time goes on.

Alexstrasza:
Alexstrasza, the ancient and powerful Queen of the Dragons, was named the Life-Binder by the titans. She was first to be created by the titans to protect the world after they left. It is said that she witnessed the birth of all modern races upon the face of Azeroth. Her red dragonflight, known for their proud demanor, once ruled over all other dragonkind. Rumors among the night elves suggest Alexstrasza and the demigod Cenarius were close friends, and that it was he that called her during the first invasion of the Burning Legion.

Ysera:
Ysera the Dreamer represents mortal subconscious. She encompasses the Emerald Dreaming. While she appreciates imagination and creation and approves of ambition in the mortal races, her and her dragonflight consider the real world to be just an illusion. Ysera is one of the most graceful and powerful creatures any mortal could lay eyes on.

Malygos:
Malygos is known as the Steward of Magic or Spell-Weaver. his natural form is not that of a typical dragon, and it is said he can change it at will. Rarely seen after his retreat to the far north, he is almost always in the form of an insect-like creature. But while in dragon form, he and his dragonflight are varying blues in color.

Nozdormu:
Nozdormu is known as the Master of Time and the Timeless. He and his dragonflight are bronze in color and display great cunning in all things. Nozdormu's attention has always been focused on collecting artifacts of the past, as he cares little for the current matters of the mortal races, or even his fellow Aspects dealings. His indifference towards the politics of others does not mean he is complacent towards events that transpire throughout the world though.

Considered to be protectors, the bronze dragonflight find themselves greatly attrected to areas of civilization. The dragon and his flight are very patient by nature, always relying on observation and acting with a plan before being hasty. Nozdormu will always attempt to protect the time stream and the mortal races when threatened by greater enemies.

Neltharion:
Neltharion, called the Eath-Warder upon his creation, was more loyal and protective of Azeroth than any of the other Aspects. His black dragonflight were responsible for the creation of the mountains and the other creations of the lands including boundaries between the mortal races. What caused his corruption still remains a mystery; be it an outside influence or something that rotted from within. I wonder if perhaps the Old Gods didn't play a hand in the great black's corruption.

The black dragon underwent a complete transformation, and in the end, Neltharion no longer existed. He became Deathwing, a creature of malice and hatred. No longer the Earth-Warder in the eyes of races like the High Elves. He was renamed the Death Aspect and Xaxas in place of his titan-given name. Deathwing is the embodiemnt of chaos and evil, and is always hungry for destruction. He is arguably the first evil of Azeroth that appeared after the banishment of the Old Gods.

Test of Faith...

2008-07-28T21:53:00.002+02:00

In Thousand Needles, on horde side, there is a quest named Test of Faith. The following monologue happened on vent:
Dernalar: 'If I die, I'm going to reroll Alliance and gank you [Dorn Plainstalker]'
[After surviving]: 'You live another day, cow.'

Laurelindórenan

2008-07-23T23:34:00.002+02:00

They arrived one cold winter night,
on endless plains between river and rock.
From nut and acorn the Mallorns grew,
born in early spring.
They watched their forest as it rose,
and stretched towards the skies.

The golden leaves became their roof,
but it could not hide the stars.
The grassy fields got sun-kissed flowers,
they named them Elanors.
It was their home and their castle,
they stood guard on the walls.

But summer will always come to an end,
when gold will turn to brown.
and the Elanors were buried,
as the golden leaves fell down and died.
Soon it was hidden by darkest night.
Unsettled, they waited.

Winter arrived, cold and harsh,
the Elanors struggled, wilted, and died,
the singing rivers encased in ice,
and no whispers could be heard,
as the winter storms tore them apart.
The forest sang no longer.

The Mallorns and Elanors saw tuilë never more.
The song that once lived between trees, died last hrívë.
It never saw them coming, it never saw them leave.
They watched its birth and death,
and they mourned its passing.
They sang each song and rejoiced each sapling’s birth,
but they could not sing alone.
When it fell they could not stay,
they went with the last ship.
And only memories were left.

Still stand the golden Mallorns – but golden they are not
Still remain the fields – but there are no Elanors
Still sing the singing rivers – but listen no one does
Still live the Golden Lady – but she lingers here no more
Ai! Ai! Laurelindórenan – why withered you away?

---
Not one of my best, but with emotion :)
(c) Me

Estel

2008-07-21T10:45:00.004+02:00

Seven sparkling stars and a snow-white tree,

Banner borne by the Crown of Númenor.

Two mighty armies before one City of Stone,

Will the dead tree bloom again?

Loud battlecries drowning wounded anguish,

Blood of men and orcs marring Pelannor Fields.

Men’s horns blowing tunes, and horses’ hooves drumming,

The malicious music of war.

The smell of blood wafting, whirling through the air,

Rain will wash it away.

Among horses, beasts and men, fear of death and pain is clear,

For many, death is near.

The air is full of heated dust, which lies upon the brow,

Throats of men are dry.

There are black Corsair sails a-river, and crying seagulls above,

Nothing is what it seems.

Fear is strong in pounding, gasping hearts,

The sword is heavy and fingers cold,

but courage and conviction are spurring on.

Hope will never fade.

Above the screams and darkened soil, Telperion withstands.

The Star of the North is here.

Ice Rose

2008-07-15T10:57:00.002+02:00

The smell was unbearable. The wind never reached these narrow streets, with houses that stretched high above her, and the air stood humid and still. Garbage and waste added to the horrid stench. The only favourable aspect was that the sun never reached this low between the houses and so the air was somewhat cooler than in open space. It still did not make the place any more charming.

Lenariel shuddered and wished with all her hart she was back in Silvermoon, with its wide open spaces, clean streets, beautifully decorated buildings , and houses with tall and shady rooms – and with a sensible layout!

Orgrimmar looked as if it was built by a child playing with pretty stones! She could not even find her way out, and she wished, not for the first time, that she had volunteered to bring a missive to the Warchief, Thrall. Naturally, carrying letters for others was beneath her, but she had been curious to who this orc was, who had questioned the Sin’dorei’s admittance into the Horde. She shuddered again. Barbarians. To think that some of her own people actually liked these… orcs.

She turned out of the narrow street and came into the open. The heat from the sun was nearly strangling, and her mouth felt as if it was full of sand. She had come to a plateau above the city, and from here she could look down to the Orgrimmar marketplace which was bustling with life, even now when the sun was at its harshest. Houses lined the marketplace and their roofs almost came up to her level.

Someone had actually jumped down on one of the roofs and sat there, unmindful of the sun, observing what was going on below. She stared. It was one of her people, a Sin’dorei. That will most certainly give him sun sickness!

She squinted, wondering why he felt familiar – for it was a male. Short red hair-

She groaned. Of course, it could be no other. She made her way over to the edge – there was no way she was going to jump onto the roof. It was entirely unsafe. “Dawnstrider!” she called.

He turned immediately upon hearing her voice, and his face split into a wide grin. “Lenariel! I didn’t know you were in Orgrimmar!” He was off the roof and by her side in two jumps. His eyes looked adoringly at her. “Lovely as ever!”

Lenariel was well aware of how Dernalar Dawnstrider felt about her. You could say many things about the red-haired and boisterous male (and several less-than-flattering-adjectives came to mind immediately), but subtle was not it.

His hand reached out to take her arm, but she shied away and gave him a look so cold that Icecrown Glacier would’ve looked warm in comparison. He pouted for a second, before he again gave her a ‘winning’ smile.

It did nothing to win her.

“What in the name of the Sunwell are you doing here in the middle of Orgrimmar, Dawnstrider?” she asked. “And where is your sister?”

He shrugged. “No idea.”

Lenariel sighed inwardly. She supposed it was too much to ask of Erdolliel to look after her moronic brother all the time, but letting Dernalar go off on his own could be disasterous.

Then she frowned. There was a very faint sheen of – something – on Dernalar’s skin. It looked – greenish, ill. “Dernalar,” she said, sounding almost concerned, “are you ill? You don’t look to healthy.”

“Oh that,” he replied. “I had an unfortunate encounter with a poison trap. It’s not bothering me overmuch and will probably pass.”

Incredible, she thought. What a moronic, careless attitude! But then again, she had never been in doubt, Dernalar really was a moron. She would’ve preferred to leave him and ignore the poison, for while she could detect that it was not going to kill him, it would weaken him and make him vulnerable for a long time to come. And she could not expect Dernalar to not do anything stupid for any length of time.

Could she face his sister if she let him die? Yes probably.

Then she sighed. Dernalar might be a moron, but he didn’t actually deserve to die. Even though it would make her life easier.

With the decision made she took him by the wrists and concentrated briefly to dispel the poison from his system. At first he was delighted that she voluntarily touched him, and then he looked grateful as he felt the remains of the poison dissipate. As he moved to hug her she stepped swiftly out of his reach. Saving his life was one thing, but she was not about to hug him. Ever.

He had to settle for an “Aww thanks love,” to which she replied with another cold glare, which unfortunately seemed to have little to no effect on Dernalar.

She was about to leave (no reason to stay in Dernalar’s presence any longer than necessary) when he spoke again.

“Hey Lenariel, join me on the roof for a drink!”

She raised a delicate eyebrow at him. “So that’s why you were out there, risking sun-sickness, while drinking alcohol?”

He didn’t quite catch her disapproving voice. “Yes, I met a friendly girl who suggested it. No idea where she disappeared off to, though.”

She turned on her heel and left. Some things did not deserve a response.

Alcoholic. Womanizer.

Moron.

to roleplay a blood-elf

2008-07-07T10:24:00.003+02:00

I like roleplaying in World of Warcraft. I particularly enjoy roleplaying horde characters - and several of those I have, are blood elves.
I actually have stories for most of them, but the other day I stumbled upon a small guide to role-playing a blood elf.
I found it incredibly interesting, and while I was lucky enough to have stories that didn't need too much changing even after reading the guide, it did give me some more depth.

This is the story of Loire Noname as it were:

Loire was probably not her real name, as it was the name she gave herself when she grew old enough to grasp the concept of names.
She have been alone in the world as long as she can remember, and has no idea where her parents are, if they are dead or if they simply abandoned her.
She grew up in the midst of Silvermoon, surviving the dangers by being small and nimble, and living on what she could steal.
Despite the harsh environment she lives in, she has developed a dangerous mischievousness, and a careless attitude that has a tendency to get both herself and others in trouble.
She has little formal education, and can barely read, but she is an expert on survival.

However, after reading that guide, I realised this was somewhat wrong. The war of Quel'thalas happened only 5 short years ago, and prior to that the High Elf society was pretty much awesome. If I set her age to 20 she would very likely have known her heritage and had a guardian even if her parents died when she was very little.
So let's say she's 15. Incredibly young, lost her parents and viritually all of her family during the war, 5 years ago. That would put her to ten years of age.

Part of the previous plot was that she didn't know who she was, hence the 'Noname' part of her name. However at 10 years old she would know very well who she was. So to keep 'Noname' on her I have two choices:
1 - she knows very well who she is, but since she's the only one left she does not belong anywhere, and as such has chosen the anonymity of not carrying a name. Perhaps she fears giving out her name because she has enemies.
2 - the traumatic experiences of the war caused her mind to surpress all the painful memories, and basically give her amnesia.

Major fault to option 1: It suggests a prominent backstory. Loire is not supposed to have that. The point is that she has none at all.
Major fault to option 2: I don't want mysterious relatives popping up and claiming familiarity. They're all dead you hear me!

Another thing about Loire is that - she's pretty happy. Mischivious and troublesome, but also reckless; sometimes dangerously so. This behaviour may hint to a darker past and personality than the one she presents as a sort of self defence.
This leads me to the 3rd option: Loire was pretty much parent-less before the war. She has been a street-rat for as long as she remember. This can explain her careless and carefree attitude, and at the same time a darker personality behind.
It can even explain her mischivious and sometimes happy attitude; because the war didn't make anything better or worse for her. Where others lost their families she lost nothing; they were already dead or gone. She's lived with it for her entire life, and learned to roll with the punches, and present a pretty facade. The grief and sadness might be inside her but for the most part it won't come to the surface.

The Ashbringer

2008-06-29T11:19:00.004+02:00

The story of the Ashbringer is one of the most facinating in World of Warcraft - the way I see it. I didn't know anything about him until I saw the 'Tales of the Past' machinimas (previously mentioned and absolutely worth the download).
Since then I've researched his lore extensively. For those not in the know, the Ashbringer was a paladin who found a very powerful crystal (it's speculated it may be the corpse of a Naaru) and from this crystal + a part of the paladin's soul, Ashbringer was forged. It was named so because with it, the paladin could stand alone against thousands of undead scourge and win, leaving nothing but ash.
He was a paladin of the Silver Hand, and later he became the Highlord of the Scarlet Crusade.
Unfortunately he was betrayed by his very own son, Renault, who is now the end boss in Scarlet Monastery. It was after this event the Scarlet Crusade turned to their beastly ways.

The Highlord himself was raised from the dead by Kel'thusad and until now he has served him in Naxxramas. Rumours say though, that in the Wrath of the Lich King expansion he'll have broken free from his grasp.

Basically I love the story, and I've been incredibly frustrated because I could never find his first name. Everywhere he was listed as 'Highlord Mograine' and nothing else. Then yesterday I visited wowwiki.com and purely by coincidence clicked myself onto the Ashbringer site. And lo, what does it say?
"Ashbringer, Blade of the Scarlet Highlord, is the sword of former Highlord Alexandros Mograine of the Scarlet Crusade."

My first thought was; wtf? Had it been there all the time and I never noticed? But by checking the date I learned that the Alexandros Mograine info was pretty new.
Moreover I had my name <3 and it didn't disappoint. Alexandros is a pretty fancy name imho. Unfortunately it was taken on my server :( But meh. I have a name for my favourite wow-character so who am I to complain?

roleplaying world of warcraft

2008-06-29T00:01:00.002+02:00

I may have mentioned that I should be on a roleplaying server rather than an pve server. However I've gotten pretty attached to my current server and my raiding guild (pwning high-end bosses = win) so I have resorted to roleplaying on my free time. Several of my characters have their very own little story, some brief and some rather long.

The one I posted yesterday was the background of Lesswyn, a draenei warrior. She's a lvl 24 warrior on the roleplaying server Moonglade. Her story is one of the longest I've made, but I have one other which is equally long and which I have spent a lot more time creating.

In the words of Linarii Moqar, Darkspear

When Vol’jin led his people to Kalimdor, following the young Orc Warchief Thrall, it was in the hopes of a new future. The number of Darkspears had thinned during the endless wars against humans and murlocs, and after the fall of the noble Sen’jin, he feared that the ancient lands of our forefathers, the Vale of Stranglethorn, might cause the extinction of his proud tribe.
And so he followed Thrall across the sea from Azeroth, to Kalimdor.

Compared to the wars the Darkspear Tribe had survived, the journey across the sea was naught. However, there were those among us who saw the green shores of Stranglethorn fade into the ocean, and yet never lived to see the dusty plains of our new home, Durotar. My mother was one of them.
The battle that claimed Sen’jin had also taken her husband, and given her deep wounds that refused to heal. One year she had carried the wounds on her body and on her soul, trying to stay alive for the child she carried. At the time of his death, my father hadn’t known about my existence-to-be, or he would never have allowed my mother to join that battle. While troll women fight as good as troll men, pregnant trolls are never allowed into battle. Our children are far to precious to the tribe, for them to be killed before they can be born.
My mother died the fifteenth day at sea, just as the sun rose above the horizon. Her body did not survive the pains of labour, and I was cut from her dead body. The old Shaman who had overseen my birth named me Linarii, after Lin’qa, my father, such as my mother had instructed.

That is all that I have left of my parents, Lin’qa and Genji. Upon reaching Durotar the old Shaman took care of me, but he was killed by Zalazane and his trolls, shortly after he had told me this story. Fleeing the Echo Isles, some settled within the Sen’jin village, while others ended up in Ogrimmar – like me.

While Trolls are rarely cruel towards their children, their first priority is family. In the midst of building a new home in Kalimdor, no one had time to spare for one little orphaned girl. Yet, while full of people, Ogrimmar is not a vicious city. If I were willing to run a few errands for busy townsfolk, they would often repay me with a meal and sometimes a place to sleep. For a long time I lived on their kindness while watching Ogrimmar and its people.
Yet I did not remain a child forever. Soon enough a street-girl will reach the age where she becomes attractive to men of little honour. When I for the first time met such men - two of them - I did not understand what they wanted before they had me alone and without escape.
As it was, my luck turned out to be far greater than my wit.
Before any of them could touch me, the most magnificent animal leaped over their heads and stood between us. I had never seen the like. It was a huge coyote-like being – I later learned it was a wolf, not native to Durotar – with shining white fur.
The two men fled like an Adder in a Scorpid nest.
As I cautiously approached my rescuer and petted her gently between the ears, I suddenly became aware that someone was watching me. Raising my eyes I was shocked to find a huge Tauren standing there. Stepping backwards in fear I fell clumsily on my bum – and saw the Tauren’s twitching smile. The huge white ‘coyote’ immediately lost all interest in me and returned to the Tauren, who I now realised was her owner.
Kneeling in front of me he graciously helped me to my feet. Even when he was on his knees I could not match his height, and I found myself more than a little intimidated.
“I must say,” he rumbled, “When Qarai took off like a cub during spring, I did not expect her to find me a pretty little Troll.”
His voice was kind, and when I finally gathered the courage to look at him, I found a pair of deep, friendly golden eyes looking at me.

His name was Ceferan Wolftooth, and he was from Thunder Bluff. He changed the course of my life entirely. Before him I had lived for my present, never thinking about the future. Ceferan, however, had travelled far and wide, and had seen what usually happened to children like me – and he was too kind to leave me to my fate. That day he gave me food and paid for my bed. The next day he brought me outside Ogrimmar, and took the road south.
“Have you not been in the Valley of Trials?” he queried, and I shook my head. I could only barely remember the Echo Isles, and since then Ogrimmar had been my only home.
“Did your parents fight for the Horde?” he then asked, to which I replied that yes, they did. While I did not know to which class they belonged, I knew that they had both died for our people.
Ceferan smiled. “Such things run in the blood, little girl. We’ll make a fighter out of you yet.”
When we a few days later arrived in the Valley, I was faced with a choice. Usually the parents send their child off to the trainer they find most suitable. Ceferan was no help at all – he just sprouted off some rubbish about ‘following your own path, little girl’. In fact, only Qarai, the white wolf, was willing to help me. When she noticed my plight, she nuzzled my face and looked at me with kind black eyes. Then I knew.
“I want to become a Hunter, like you,” I declared, daring Ceferan to counter me.
He didn’t. He simply smiled and introduced me to Jen’shan, the Hunter trainer. He himself had trained under a different Hunter, and had never met Jen’shan before. Jen’shan merely looked me over and grunted, before she and Ceferan spent a long time exchanging news like old friends – apparently, Ceferan did not mind the company of the female troll.
And then Ceferan and Qarai left the Valley of Trials behind, disappearing out of my life forever. I remained, alone and a little scared, yet full of hopes for the future. And with a quiet vow to Ceferan I threw myself into the training, so that I one day could become a great Hunter.

It seems so long ago now, but it has only been a few years. In my heart I hope that I will meet him once again, for I never got to thank him for what he did to me. I, Linarii Ghachin-Moqar, am forever indebted to Ceferan Wolftooth and his wolf, Qarai.

Lesswyn

2008-06-27T21:21:00.002+02:00

The Shattering of Worlds
She was born in peace, the oldest of six siblings, and named Lesswyn. She was the eldest child to one of the respected elders in their village.
Their people had little contact with any non-Draenei. She knew of the orcs, of course, but had rarely seen any of them. As far as she knew, they lived as nomads, in peaceful wandering tribes, and kept mostly to themselves, and neither race sought contact with each other.

Her parents loved each other, and they gave their love freely to their children, who grew up as respectable, well-adjusted youths. As the oldest, Lesswyn was often responsible for her younger siblings, a chore she hardly minded. She loved her siblings very much, both her energetic and often exhausting brothers, and her smiling, lively sisters. Ered and Kon were twins, five years her juniors. Two years behind came Ewyn, and a year later Vinnieth, the two of them so close in mannerism and looks, that people always thought them to be twins as well. The youngest boy, Yeteq, was hardly three years younger than Vinnieth, and, as the youngest, somewhat spoiled.
For many long years they lived upon the World, as the orcs named it, and Lesswyn could hardly remember an unhappy moment. She cared little for magic, or warfare – only for the peaceful life she enjoyed with her parents and siblings.
Yet, nothing lasts forever, and soon their peaceful lives were shattered - by Manneroth and his powerhungry warlock Gul’dan.

She was entering her twentieth year, and she had fallen in love. She endured the playful teasing of her family as she accepted Veren Enyatar’s proposal. He was a handsome man, and he loved her as much as she loved him. He was of the lesser families, but such things hardly mattered to them, so far removed from the Draenei power-centres.
At that time there were rumours that told of orcs ravaging and killing, but they did not believe them to be true. Lesswyn, who was to be wed, certainly paid them no mind.
The day Veren took her hand and proclaimed her his wife, and led her to their home, was the happiest in her life. When the celebrations were over, and they were alone, he gave her memories she would carry in her heart forever. When he held her in his arms, and whispered his love into her ear, she whispered back with equal emotion, and promised she was his, until the end of time.
When the dawn came, he was dead.

The entire village was eradicated that night, as the orcs razed their village to the ground – she was the only survivor, and she became Lesswyn Enyatar, Elder, taking the title that could only be held among the oldest among them, as a reminder of that which once was.
She did not know why she survived the rage of the orcs, but survive she did. Utterly alone, she could only seek refugee among others who’d escaped certain death at the hands of the bloodraged orcs. Even though there were many she could relate to, nothing could bring her family back. When her people escaped in the Exodar, travelling to the world of Kalimdor, she came with them – there were no other options. But she could never forget the dead bodies of her family – the bloodied corpse of Veren, her first and only love – Ered and Kon, together even in the end – Ewyn’s lovely smile forever stiffened – Vinnieth, as silent in death as she was lively in life – the mangled body of Yeteq, who should never experience his tenth year – her parents, unrecognisable, burnt to death in the house she grew up in.
A cold hatred rose in her, a hatred against the orcs and everything they represented. And so she picked up the sword, and swore never to be helpless again. Never again should her loved ones die because she could not defend them.
Now her hatred, and her sword, is everything she has left.

apology!

2008-06-20T12:41:00.000+02:00

I totally forgot to mention - yesterday I got an apology from Mad.
Mvhaha not forgetting that quickly. That's a once in a lifetime event.

poem of the day

2008-06-20T11:58:00.002+02:00

"When shadow comes to claim our souls,
some must rise, the light old.
Names in stone, spirits of legend,
deeds unknown, yet never forgotten.
These are the Duranin!
Of honour within, and of fear without.
Remember them, when in hope you doubt."

-From the World of Warcraft Machinima 'Tales of the Past III'

I think that maybe, I should have rolled on a roleplaying server. I have always had a creative imagination, and I like to write. Most of my characters have a backstory. I have even created quotes related to them; things they've said, or things they've got opinions on. My view on the paladin changed a bit dramatically with the aforementioned 'Tales of the Past' machinimas. Before they were a somewhat boring class. Now they're pretty facinating, and Ashbringer and Uther Lightbringer have gotten a new fangirl (read: Ashbringer fangirl).

My number one favourite character however, is Rhonin Redhair of the Kirin Tor.

Noble: Tauren in Zin-Azshari? How barbaric!
Rhonin: They'd rather have demons?
Malfurion Stormrage: You wouldn't understand.
Rhonin: No, I wouldn't.

those funny things people say

2008-06-14T23:22:00.003+02:00

I love quotes. I keep word documents on my pc filled with quotes. I print slips of paper with quotes and use them as bookmarks. I jot down things friends say because I find them funny.

So here are a couple of things I lol at;

'Don't corpse camp that idea... it'll never rez.' - Lmdhunter (inside jokes ftw).

'What's afk?' - Lmdhunter
'RL' - Nishino

'Never said retri isn't fun, it just has the usefulness of a dead squirrel.' - Nish

And my all time favourite from my favourite rogue Rogeeza <3 it was his standard excuse.
'It wasn't me! You can't prove it! It meant nothing! /VANISH!'

There are also other quotes, from books, games etc. that gives meaning only to me and other people interested in lore (see previous post). Such as the following:

'Let me let you in on a little secret, Commander. The power of the Ashbringer came from the man who would wield it... I was there, Commander. I watched him burn legions of undead in righteous fire before he would even unsheathe the blade. Alas, your grasp on history is... lacking.' - Eligor Dawnbringer, Brotherhood of the Light, Light's Hope Chapel, Eastern Plaguelands

Apparently I'm funny occasionally as well. I once made a comment on the dinosaurs on Un'goro Crater which my friend Nishino found especially funny (it should be noted that I pulled aggro from them a lot, and I was on my draenei shaman at the time); 'Oh we get along. They're ancient, I'm alien.'
While not entirely certain what was so funny about this, I was none-the-less glad to contribute :D

On that note, Game Masters have their moments as well. 'There are many adventages to being a gnome, such as being cute, cuddly and easy to kick of a cliff.'

pseudoloremaster

2008-06-13T17:20:00.004+02:00

Let's face it. World of Warcraft has a lot of facinating stories. Ten thousand years of history, immortal elves, dwarves that sprung from rock (Lord of the Rings inspirated perhaps?), humans, dragons, undeads, demons - yes even gnomes, trolls, cows and squids - and the ever-facinating orcs.
It's a lot to take in, and the more you learn the more facinating the game itself becomes. The other day I was looking for a mushroom named Ysera's Tears. For those in-the-know Ysera is a familiar name. She is The Dreamer, the Green Dragon Aspect and Lady of the Emerald Dream.
While I don't think there was some particular reason for the name 'Ysera's Tears', it did raise some theories in my mind. Especially as the mushrooms themselves grew in a place riddled by the restless spirit of long dead green dragons. Who knows, maybe Ysera herself had cried over the land, and where her tears landed these brilliantly green musrhrooms grew.

Another place full of history is Duskwood. Once a prosperous place it is now dark and damp and full of undead. One of the primary focuses is a giant graveyard, named Raven Hill. The details of what happened here is pretty vague, but there are hints and glimpses of a better past. Unfortunately the scourge runs rampant in the land, some of it's inhabitants lured by dark powers to raise the dead, and other, long dead people, wanders restlessly and unable to find peace.
Duskwood is hardly a bright spot in the dark. More like a dark one in brighter surroundings.

Oh and me like the undeads. Paladins + undeads = win. For the paladin. Mvhaha.

less QQ more pewpew

2008-06-12T10:04:00.003+02:00

Ok so last post was mucho QQing. However considering this is sort of an online diary (but not quite since it's quite public) QQing is allowed. I mean that's what writing a diary is about right?

Blog certainly sounds less emo than diary though.

Anyway. Norway is burning. Biggest forest fire in at least 50 years, less than 100 kilometres from where I live. They say you can smell the smoke in Kristiansand, the city I live close to. I think I will avoid going there today.
People have been evacuated, but as far as I know no lives have been lost. Yet.
10 000 dekar of land burnt to the ground, or 1000 footballfields.
We desperately need a rainstorm.

why brothers suck

2008-06-11T12:21:00.006+02:00

1 - They do not seem to realise that milk needs to be cooled. Your invisible friend is not going to put them in the fridge.
2 - They had to clean the kitchen to be able to find the stove - this is quite obviously your fault. If you complain that you left it spotless last time you were there, you are lying.
3 - They are aware that dinner does not cook itself. However, cooking dinner is not their job. Even though they eat most of it anway.
4 - Fuel that you paid for is unlimited. Fuel they pay for is theirs.
5 - They are hardworking wonderful individuals. You are lazy, because you did not wash their clothes make them dinner clean the bathroom buy frozen pizza and toilet paper feed the dogs move the lawn.

And finally - you are not doing what you're supposed to do because you spend several hours a day playing World of Warcraft.
Though sitting the entire day watching TV and do nothing else? That's absolutely acceptable.

once again...

2008-06-10T09:09:00.000+02:00

'Stupidity is also a gift from God, but one mustn't misuse it.'

Once again I've started a blog. Now you don't know me so you don't really know what that means. Basically I'll make a couple of posts, then lose interest and leave it behind forever.
I believe this is my third.

Oh well... Blessed are those who never give up.