Amy Schley as Patent
Hey dere mon! Dis be de last you be hearin' of da Patent troll for a while -- I gots ta be studyin' some serious voodoo. But I wanted ta give ya an update and a big shout out to Withervein, Paragus and Aevor. Las' T'ursday was my last night to go out adventurin', and those guys made it an awesome time. I asked da guild how I ought ta celebrate my last day, and we decided to have some fun! We took da goblin zeppelin out to da Gromgul Camp, den ran up da coast ta enter da Deadmines. Well, wit' a master rogue, death knight, and shadow priest, we made quick work of da humans. My groupies were even kind enough to hold my coat while I did da work. After we got done dere, we headed on up to da Scarlet Monastery where we killed even more humans. (It was a human killin' kind of night.) We discovered dat a little twenty three year old rogue can attract the attention of pretty much everybody in da Cathedral gardens at once though.
I gots ta say, I will really miss you guys. Thanks so much for makin' my last night so awesome!
Robin Torres as Robinemia
There is this magical encyclopedia called "WoWWiki" that has all of the information you need in which to help me gather things for the Darkmoon Faire. It seems that in order for me to become insane, as you voted me to be, I have to make these people like me. A lot. They seem to be hanging out in tauren lands and I need to turn all sorts of body parts and crafted items in to them in order for them to think I'm pretty cool ... or insane. I don't know. So please send me these things so that I can turn them in.
Also, it seems that I require Heavy Junkboxes, which are only found in the pockets of rather experienced ((level 50)) enemies. So if some rogues could send me about 1,100 of them or more, then I can turn them into these Ravenholdt guys after I slaughter a bunch of Syndicate guys.
There are many other things to do, but these are the things we should be working on this week. Honestly, if I didn't love the idea of being Robinemia the Insane so much, I'd tell you all to choke on your votes and start chasing around critters and telling them how much I love them. Actually, that seems much more insane, to my way of thinking. Perhaps my state of undeath makes these things unclear to me.
So, join our merry band of animal slaughterers, crafters and pickpocketers as soon as possible. If you wish to see me actually succeed in this task you've set before me, I need your help.
Gregg Reece as Sandwichdoc
Last week, I made my way through the Valley of Trials starting area and was trying to play catch up with everyone else. When you're spamming Lightning Bolt, I found that the troll racial of Berserking came in handy with that 20% haste for taking down some of the bigger baddies in my quest lines. At level 5, I went to grab my earth totem with the quest. The quest is pretty easy if you can find the trail up into the hills. After that, I made my way to Sen'jin Village to do the quests there and in the Echo Isles like the good troll that I am. Sneaking along the sides of the islands I was able to take down Zalazane and his hexed minions pretty easily, but I did get overrun a couple times due to pathers near the center of the island.
After a few more quests (and the experience bonus from the Fire Festival pole dancing), I hit level 10 and had the fire totem quest opened up to me. Luckily, I'd done the quest once before on a long-abandoned character, so I knew where the path was up into the mountains. I'll have to say, other than the hidden mountain trails, the actual shaman totem quests are much easier than the warlock demon quests. I finished off the week at level 11 with both my earth and fire totems in tow. I'd like to thank Harlec for nabbing me some bags from the guild bank and everyone who was on for the guild event during the week.
Christian Belt as Selfloathius
Selfloathius was not a fan of the Barrens.
Oh sure, at first it was OK. He appreciated the aesthetic of the place, even going so far as to write some truly dreadful poetry that featured the phrase "barren like my soul," which is of course a phrase that is punishable in some countries by dragging the author into the street and shooting him in the mouth. He liked seeing the occasional lost kodo, wandering alone and aimless as he often fancied himself to be doing. Also, there were gazelle and giraffes to kill. Selfloathius quite enjoyed killing gazelle and giraffes.
The problem -- Selfloathius had discovered -- was that the negatives far outweighed the positives. First, there were the hyenas. They laughed. The sound reminded him of Bieber. And they bit. And it seemed to Selfloathius as if they could sense him coming from approximately a mile away, perhaps smelling his emotional intensity. They streaked toward him out of nowhere, like furry, warlock-seeking missiles. Sure, he could appreciate their extreme desire to kill a warlock, but it became very annoying very quickly. Especially in light of the Barrens' other major problem.
So. Much. Walking.
Seriously, what the hell, Barrens? Does everything have to be so far away from everything else? And the quest givers! They all seemed to delight in sending Selfloathius traipsing as far across the bland, bleak landscape as they possibly could. When the stupid tauren guy standing around in the Crossroads told him he wanted him to collect 75 quillboar buttholes or whatever and then said that he could only find buttholes on quillboar that lived a billion miles to the south, on the ass-end of nowhere, he wanted to punch that tauren in the face. Being a warlock, he instead placed a small curse discreetly over the tauren's head and skulked away.
This place sucked. His "friends" (whenever he spoke of them as such, he always accompanied the term with air quotes that were as exaggerated as humanly possible) had recommended this place to him. "Go to the Barrens," they said. "The Barrens is nice," they said. "The centaurs are friendly," they said.
They were liars, the lot of them.
It was hot, big and unimaginably dull. He was nearly finished there and had already made plans to go somewhere else as soon as he gained his next level. He'd heard of a nice forest full of zombies and werewolves over on the eastern continent. It sounded delightful. But this place, oh ... how he loathed it. This place was so miserable, in fact, that for the moment, he had forgotten how very, very much he hated himself.
And perhaps that was the worst thing of all.