Lisa Poisso as Prupher, the proofreading tauren druid
- Adammentat is level 61 but is unable to run the level 60 40-man raids quite yet. He promises that it will be soon. In the meantime, make sure you have your gear and any keys ready.
- We are nearing the in-game holiday season. We'll be having <It came from the Blog> holiday events at least once a month through December.
Stubborn, I am. Determined to make my mark on The Barrens, to do this zone my way, I headed out from the Crossroads in a random direction, without consulting my quest log ... and promptly spent my entire play session tiptoeing between mobs four to five levels above me, attempting to pluck four mushrooms from around the lake. In this case, however, "tiptoeing" ended up to be more like "stampeding" -- and, um, "dying." Even the level 9 human who lives with me was left shaking her head: "I don't get it ... That's not a good place for you, Mommy. You're need to go put some clothes on and kill more ostriches. You're just going to keep dying."
She was right. I did keep dying.
But I got my damn mushrooms.
(Coming next week: In which Prupher pauses long enough to actually equip gear in every slot.)
Robin Torres as Robinemia, the Forsaken mage
Yawn. Blink blink blink blink. Where am I? Is this dust? I think this is dust! I'm dusty! I am the stereotypical dusty corpse adding ambiance to a haunted inn. Ugh. I think I may be infested with something, too. I'll make my way to the Undercity. If they don't have a "look and feel less like you just crawled out of the grave" salon there, no place will. I bet stomping grumpily on my way to the flight path will help though.
So anyway. What have you all been up to while I've been forgotten in a corner of the Tarren Mill inn? I guess you took advantage of the portal to an alternate future. Fun, adventures and really wild things, eh? Well, you do remember I have an insane title to get, right? I'm not going to get it by becoming part of the decor for a public building. Gah! My bags are a mess! I bet I left my bank in the same state. Bleh.
Ah, barber shop. They should be able to help me. Perhaps I'll get a new hairstyle. Maybe I'll put it up for a vote. I wonder if they'll let me nap in the chair ... I feel another short period of disuse coming on ...
Robin Torres as Robinka, the dwarf shaman
Och! The noise! All the guns! And the troggs! I can't hear anything you're sayin'. What's that? I need to kill troggs, find beer and scavenge for bar food? I thought I had chosen to be a shaman, not a barwench. That's it! I'm going to Ironforge and see about a career change. And would you quit talkin' about beards? I don't know where you get your information, but neither I nor any of the women in my family have had trouble being hirsute. Why yes, I will take one for the road.
Robin Torres as Peenk, the gnome priestess
A rescue! I've been rescued! I am not one to lose hope easily, but really, it has been so hard not to succumb to the radiation and become like my friends and family. No time to be sad now. So much to do!
Really, when I look back on my day, so much has happened. I rescued some extremely frightened gnomes. I received a good de-green-fog-ifying. I almost died in the explosion caused by the thing de-green-fog-ifying me. I got teleported out of Gnomeregan. I met the High Tinker!
I forgot to get his autograph though. I really should do that. Perhaps he'll sign my cape or something.
What with all of the training and fighting I've done after returning to the surface ... well ... I'm amazed I'm still standing. I suppose it's for the best -- so I don't think about those I've left behind. It was pretty hellish down there.
Ooh! I like healing! Why haven't we been able to do this before? Is this some kind of side effect from the radiation? Am I channeling some special gnomishness? Light? Am I using sunlight to ... I don't get ... oooh! New toys! Prettee dresses! Yippee!