Anne Stickney as Annephora, the troll warrior
I heard joo an everyone else in de village be fightin to take back de isles from Zalazane. I be on my way too, promise! De trolls at de village out 'ere in Stranglethorn say I won't be able to fight Zalazane, but I can still help wit gettin people together dat can fight him. Is dat true? I was lookin forward to punchin' 'im in de face a few times.
See joo soon,
Girl, joo want to punch 'im in de face? Zalazane? 'e make mincemeat outta joo. Out 'ere, dere gettin de best warriors de Horde has to offer, dere consultin' de spirits, dey be talkin' wit new allies, dey be charmin' frogs, and joo tink you can jus waltz up an' smack him in de face?
...at times like dis, I reminded 'ow much joo take after joo faddah. Come home, 'elp where joo can, I look forward to seein joo.
Spirits guide you,
P.S. I 'ope joo ain't wearin' none o' dat plate dat does nothin' to protect an' everyting to show everyone joo goods. Joo know what I'm talkin' bout.
Gregg Reece as Sandwichdoc, the troll shaman
Well, after a minor sabbatical due to life eating my brain, I decided to run my character a little bit more through Silverpine Forest. I went and meddled in the affairs of abandoned Dalaran wizards, for they are crunchy and good with ketchup. I also accepted this nice little level 16 quest to go kill some undead gone wild over on this hilltop among the Dalaran wizards. So, I wandered over there as a level 16 and saw some lovely silverleaf that I decided to grab near the path up the hill. About that time, the level 20 undead came down and ate my brains. So, I tried to go back and avoid this little pather guard, but his friends were just as evil. So, I said to heck with this and went over to the Echo Isles. Helping Vol'jin and gang was pretty fun and I got a lot of great skillups on herbalism due to the sheer numbers of herb nodes sitting around the region. I wasn't able to join in on the main assault, but everything else was available to me. On the bright side, I hit level 17 and got both of my professions (herbalism and alchemy) up to journeyman.
Lisa Poisso as Prupher, the proofreading tauren druid
Sometimes even the caretakers among us -- the shepherds of the words, the caretakers of herbs and skins, the mothers of the calves -- finally succumb to the fevers and plagues that periodically sweep The Barrens. I felt it first as a general malaise, then as a heat that seemed to emanate from my somewhere between my horns. My calves huddled closer, their own flanks hot, tails twitching at the flies that buzzed around the honeyed remedies I prepared for them inside a dank, quiet little building within the safety of The Crossroads. I herded them into the relative comfort of the inn, settling them for a good night's rest, and headed out again to hunt ... Only to be overcome by exhaustion before my hoofs could carry me beyond the dust and back into the prairie grasses. Perhaps later I'll feel well enough to plod back into the inn and nestle up against the coughing calves ... Until next week, friends.
Robin Torres as Robinemia, the awesomest Forsaken huntress ever
Last week, I spent an evening doing some of my favorite things. I hung out with the Dark Lady. I slaughtered humans. I bombed some wolf-men. It was the best evening of my entire unlife.
You think I'm exaggerating about hanging out with Lady Sylvanas? No, she gave me a mount and we rode together to the Sepulcher. And she told me her story. She doesn't do that for just anybody.
What's that? I can't hear you. I think I've got too much awesomesauce clogging up my ears. Or something.
Anyway, though I got a lot accomplished, it was also a rough night. I witnessed the refugees of Southshore choosing to turn into worgen. That was just before my guardian val'kyr grabbed me by my protruding spine and flew me the heck outta there. Yeah, that's right. I said guardian val'kyr. How many of you have had one of those?
Yeah, definitely something wrong with my hearing. Could be all those loud val'kyr trumpets whenever she raised a freshly killed human to join the Forsaken. Good times.
The problem is that all of those refugees are now storming Silverpine Forest as hairy, slavering beasts. And beating up sober orc pirates. I was able to revive some of them with some flaming alcohol of some kind, but there are still a few that could use some help. Those orcs aren't exactly the sharpest bolts in the quiver.
As I was saying, it was a rough night. We, unfortunately, fell into a worgen trap and lost several of our best Forsaken. Really, it was a tragedy. I will never forget the sacrifice made by the leader of the army. The guy ... whatshisname ... who pushed me out of the way so that I did not explode along with the rest of them.
That's why I can't hear very well! I was in a cave with a bomb and narrowly escaped with my life. I wonder if I can get a priest to throw a heal at my ears ... and my memory for that matter.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go stand near the Dark Lady and make quiet fangirl noises until my next assignment.