Posts Tagged ‘Masque’

After having lost Idara and Malignant to the plague, they traveled to Moonglade where the Druids were holding the last safe heaven in Azeroth. There they made plans to join the forces heading into Northrend, but as they were about to launch their attack upon the Lich King, reports of the greatest Scourge invasion yet reached them. And so they fought. They fought to defend their homes. They fought for the right to live their lives in peace. But mostly they fought to avenge their beloved ones who were now forever lost.

Shortly thereafter, Masque fell ill. It turned out he too had been infected by the plague, though it devoured him much slower then many of the others, his Undead body having proved more resistant. It was a slow and painful thing to watch, but watch she did. She spent every day by his side lending him strength when she herself had none. Pouring hope into his ear where she herself felt she was beyond all hope, watching him grow ever weaker until he one day did not stir again. She stayed with him for another day and night after his passing- saying her goodbyes, vowing to take revenge and making plans.

Then she went off to face the Lich King and his minions – a woman with no hopes and dream, no joy or tears – just a numbed soul and an iron determination of vengeance. 

That was then. 


Sitting in The Filthy Animal Inn at one of the long tables she watched the people around her. Adventurers and mercenaries brought here by fates similar to hers or the promise of fame and fortune were coming and going. She had hoped for the chance of a quite meal, but it was starting to become evident that this was not going to be it. Too many people were crowded by the door where Innkeeper Uda was trying to sort out how many beds she had left to offer for the night. She would not have room for them all, so some would surely be forced to turn to the Sewers Inn. Despite its dampness and shady location, it was still better then sleeping in the gutter facing the frigid Northrend nights outdoors.

None of them had expected the cold when they stormed the continent driven by rage and pain. It had a life of its own, making its way in under your clothes, chilling you to the bones. Not even the dwarfs were used to this kind of weather.

A thud startled her and she woke up from her thoughts to see her stew had been served. It had been a long day spent hunting shoveltusk for meat and doing odd jobs to pay all the bills. Chilled and hungry she turned her attention to the task at hand. She ate systematically, knowing that the warmth would strengthen her and relax her stiff muscles. It seemed like this cursed continent slowly froze your soul and made the life leech out of you. She could not remember the last time she had felt warm and she felt that no food or spirits would ever warm her up again. She was just so cold. So cold and tired that she simply could not bring herself to feel things anymore.

There was a time when she had raged like the fires of the Blackrock Mountains, swearing vengeance on the Lich King for the pain he had caused her. There was a time when she had cried endless tears into her pillow, her heart aching for all those she had lost. There were no tears left to cry, no fire to warm her soul, all she had left was the promise she had made to her companion, to one day avenge him.

Having finished her dinner, she waved over one of the Barmaids and ordered a pint of cheap beer that she spiced with some Moonshine she had bought off of a shady character down in the sewer district. Hopefully, she would get some sleep tonight and if she washed down the whole bottle of Moonshine she might even be able to escape those horrible dreams from which she invariably woke up screaming to the displeasure of the Inn’s other residents.

With her back against the wall, watching the flames in the fireplace lick the logs, she sunk back into her thoughts. As the flow of people grew thinner and the noise died down she eventually fell asleep aided by the drunken haze brought on by the alcohol she had consumed.

This time she managed to escape the dreams, but morning greeted her with a thundering headache and a bitter taste in her mouth as she woke up stiff on the bench were she had dozed off the night before.


The Filthy Animal Inn


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I’m not sure if anyone is still reading my blog, but I thought I’d give it a go again anyway, just in case there still are people out there interested in what I’m up to.


I left you all with the joyous message of my being accepted into the top Horde guild on the server. Needless to say I was excited and quite nervous: Would I be able to level up to 70 before the expansion? Would I be able to keep up in the race to 80 and be there to join the first raids? And once there, would I be good enough to earn my spot in the guild?

So how did it go?

Better then I had dared to expect: I hit 70 two days before Wrath came out, just early enough to allow for a short rest and a chance to get my real life affairs in order before the race to 80.

Wrath came and I joined the horde (pun intended!) of players making their way through Howling Fjord, Dragonblight and onward. All in all, it took me just over a week to reach the levelcap – far from being the first on the server or in the guild, I was still one in the first wave of healers to get there.

I joined both guild runs and PUGs to heroics and got my gear sorted and one week later, I reported for duty for our first raid! I did not top the charts, but neither did I die or end up last – I did just fine.

Then followed a period of hard work – analyzing the log stats, talking to the other resto druids and trying to outdo my own performance from the previous raids, to better myself.


Where am I now?

All instances have been cleared. We were the first on the server to down Sartharion with three drakes up (though the top Alliance guild killed it on the same night, so it was decided we would share the server first).

I’m not topping the healing lists every time, but I do end up on top now and then and am always in the top shift. I know the fights, I have the gear and feel quite secure in my role.

The guild turned out to be a good place to be. They’re all good, some even exceptional, players; most of them are nice people and quite a few are fun to hang out with. There are still days when I don’t really feel like one of the gang yet, but in general I feel quite at home here and I’ve had more then a few laughs while doing achievements, raids and heroics.


What about the Voodoo Puppets?

Well the real life friends who played with us have now moved on: some have moved server, others have simply quit playing.

Idara and Malignant have stoped playing too, so there is only half as much WoW talk in the house right now. As for Bloodgorger/Masque/Kanishi, my better half,  he has found his own guild to join. It is a more casual, smaller guild with a lot of very talented players, but most of all relaxed and easy-going, fun people. He had been with them less then a month before they made him an officer.

So here we are then: just as the ingame plague slaughtered half of the characters of my role playing stories, half our real life WoW forces have left us. We who are left,have gone our separate ways, but are starting to find our place in the world again after the uprooting that the expansion brought on.


And the blog?

It’s time the blog got some much needed attention, so I will be back with thoughts and stories of the raiding life of a resto druid, and my characters will be back sharing their stories with you.

So, dear reader:

If you’re still here, reading: thank you for waiting! We’re back and will do our best to make your wait worth the while!

If you’ve found your way back, having heard about the resurrection: welcome back! I hope you’ll find the new content as interesting as the old!

And if you’re new altogether: a warm welcome and may your stay be pleasant!

We’re back! 😉


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I wake up screaming. Panting. Wipe the sweat off of my brow.

Where am I? Am I dead yet? Is it over?

As sleep and the nightmares start to fade, memories come back to me. Dead, they are all dead, it was not just a nightmare.

I pick up my journal and start writing.

I am in Moonglade, one of the last safe-havens. I am still alive, for now. I can no longer say for certain which day it is, but it is around the time of the Hallowed, as this time of year normally should be characterized by the remembering and honouring of the dead. This year, I fear Hallow’s End will be remembered as the time of the Plague.

I put the writing feather down, as my hands have started to shake again. If you would have asked me a few weeks ago, what I thought to be the safest place on earth and who I considered my allies, I would no doubt have answered that my allegiance lies with my fellow blood elves and that there is no city safer then our majestic Silvermoon . Ironically, the part about “safest city” has not been proved wrong yet, as none of the other great cities turned out to be any safer.

It is here in Mooglade, far from civilisation that we, through the kindness of the druids, find our last place of retreat.

I try to get a grip on myself again, this story needs to be told.

The plague is everywhere, it does not discriminate between Horde or Alliance, man or beast. It devours all and everything – slowly ever spreading, unstoppable, showing no mercy, leaving no survivors. Those we once loved are transformed in front of our watching eyes into abominations that we need to protect ourselves against.

Of all the people I have befriended, only Masque and myself are still alive and uninfected. We have to my knowledge lost all the others.

As we are running out of options, despair is creeping up on us until we reek of it and hopelessness engulfs us. This enemy can not be defeated.

I fear our world is lost.

I have done all I have been able to think of to help our cause. I have for now abandoned my blood elf body and put my entire focus into being atauren druid in the hopes of using my restorative powers to aid our cause. I have spent the past week traveling back and forth between the cities, trying to keep the plague at bay by killing off those infected and cleansing those, for whom there still washope but for every day that went by our strives seemed more and more futile, our effort seems to be in vain.

More and more become infected every day, by the hour. We simply cannot cure them all fast enough, nor slay them fast enough to put an end to this.

I have known fear before and in the face of danger, I have held my head high and fought. In these moments I have learned about my utter desire to live and be alive, to not give in to the darkness. But I have never before met a foe like this, one as persistent and indestructible.

There is no way to fight back. There is nowhere left to run.

We are doomed…

Author’s note: this post is dedicated to all the players who are complaining over the world event currently taking place in World of Warcraft. Instead of complaining about the way this event is interfering with your game play and calling Blizzard names over it, you could see it as a way for you to relate to the frustration and dispair your characters might be feeling right now, as their world is being turned upside down. I imagine only utter despair such as this event would generate, could cause our characters to venture into Northrend and take on the evil entity that is causing them such harm.

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So I was cleaning up the bank again the other day (no, this is not a disorder, what is wrong with wanting to have things in alphabetical order and clean of dust I ask you?). Anyway, I was cleaning up my bank again the other day when I realised one of the bags I had been using actually had a tear in it. I took it out and patched it up, but before I put it back I realised something had fallen out of it, something I had long forgotten I had: my old journal.

I have to admit, flipping through the pages brought back old and fold memories of times when we used to think things were simple, that the Blackrock Mountains contained some of the biggest threats and the greatest secrets of magic and power. Boy, were we ever wrong!

Still, it was nice looking back at all the things me and my Puppet Masters have accomplished. And since you are all very special friends, I will let you have a little peak yourselves. If you enjoy it, I might let you see more of them.

Just be warned: He who laughs at us will burn for eternity! Laughing alongside us is allowed.

Are you ready?

Brace yourselves.

Here is what I wrote down after having ventured into the fallen Gnome City of Gnomeregan:

There’s No Place Like Gnome

Let’s face it. There’s no creature so vile, so wicked as the Gnome. Small, puny creatures with over-sized heads and ears, it is disgusting to just think of them. Alas, we would not have touched them even with tweezers, were it not for the fact that Nogg, a friend of ours who resides in Orgrimmar, needed our help. These wicked gnomes had stolen one of his magic trinkets, a ring to be more precise. Of course the Masters of the Voodoo are not heartless and are known to leap to help out, whenever a friend is in need. So it came that we ventured into the labyrinths of the long lost gnome city of Gnomeregan to retrieve Nogg’s ring and search for other bounty these wicked creatures had stolen for themselves. Needless to say, the gnomes and their engineered trinkets posed no threat to us, we gathered up the little creatures and executed them swiftly. Hopefully Nogg can now rest assured at night, that no filthy gnomes lure in the darkness, lusting for his shineys.

Aendi caught in a compromising position: retching at the sight of an ugly gnome.

Hm, that sure was a long time ago… I had forgotten how much I detested gnomes back then, I guess seeing them in Shattrath all day has dulled my dislike.

This next one is from when we had accomplished a mission for the Horde down in Uldaman. I managed to snap a picture just as Masque placed the staff used as a key to imprison Ironia.

Corrupted Creations

We have now ventured into the depths of the ruins of a lost civilisation, into the depths of Uldaman. Remnants of old dwarf magic linger still, proof of their evil twisted minds. We did our best to cleanse the place of evil and to recover the Platina Discs the dwarfs stole from the champions of the Horde centuries ago. Mission accomplished.

My, that place had a serious problem with Trogg-infestation! Still, we did manage to reveal a few secrets that improved our knowledge about how magic works.

I’ll share one last memory with you for now: This is from back when we first managed to scramble up the money to invest in mounts:

Wealth Comes to Those Worthy

We have had quite a few adventures by now, having fought the corrupted humans of the Scarlet Order, the vile pigmen creatures of Razorfen, the Nagas i the depths of Blackfathom and countless other wielders of wicked magic. Of course this being no small feat the word has spread and our ability to deliver swift judgement to those in the wrong has become widely renown. This has lead to us being showered with gifts, in the hope to win our allegiance and keep our wrath of vindication far from the givers doorstep.

With the money resulting from all this, we have now purchased mounts, so we may deliver our justice even swifter then until now.

Idara, the Puppet Mistress of Vindication, has after making a considerable donation to the Masters of the Paladin Order, been taught the ritual of summoning an astral warhorse. This is no mere horse of this world, but a creature from a more noble plane, with nerves of steel and as brave as the Paladin who commands it.

Anaesthesia, the Puppet Master of favorable Afflictions, visited the high warlock priests and learned the ritual of binding a daemon soul to this plane as a means of transportation. A steed of nightmare, with burning breath and hooves of flame, horrible and powerful, is the daemon enslaved by this Puppet Master, again proving the greatness of his power.

Masque, the Puppet Master of the Afterlife, has performed a magnificent Voodoo Ritual, to reanimate the skeletal corpse of a horse and uses it as his mount. The stench of the patches of rotting flesh is enough to let all enemies know that Masque is not one to be taken lightly.

As for me, Aendi, the Voodoo Queen herself, I have chosen to purchase a Hawkstrider, the most prized and exclusive mounts trained by the Bloodelves themselves. Who knows what horrid Bloodmagic this creature was forced to endure during its training… the mere thought of it is enough to send trembles of excitement down my spine. This is indeed a mount fit for a Queen.

Again, that really was a long time ago! We were so young and so inexperienced, still you can tell we had great ambitions back then already, can you not?

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If you’ve read the “About the Author?” page on this blog you know by now, that the characters I currently play are not the ones I started out with.

I used to play Alliance. *gasp* I know.
I used to play a healer, not dps. *gasp* Yeah, I know.
I used to raid five days a week, be a class leader and be in charge of all healing during raids, not sit around Shattrath transmuting Primal Earth into Primal Air and get bored. *doublegasp* Yeah, I know…

When my family and I (there’s four of us) decided to leave our guild and realm and start over, we were presented with two choices: Rename and transfer our characters and pick up where we left off somewhere else, or start over from scratch.

The reasons we decided to leave were many fold. Too many people in the leadership of the guild were pulling in too many different directions. Too many different opinions on how things should be handled and too much indecisiveness. Too much weight on too few peoples shoulders. The result was that we lost our flame, could no longer see the fun in the game and towards the end even dreaded turning on the computer and facing the log-in screen. To get to the point: it was simply time for a change.

Being the optimist that I am, I felt that starting over from scratch would be equivalent to a second chance. I’d get to do everything over again, only better this time. It’s kind of like taking the code of an old website and changing it, versus writing new code from scratch. Starting fresh is cleaner and has more potential.

Being the sentimentalist that I am, I did not feel right taking my old main from her home. Forcing her to leave her past and the name she had made for herself behind, only to start over somewhere new, where none of her hard work would matter.

So the choice for me was simple, I wanted to start fresh. Fortunately (I don’t know if for the same reasons) my family wanted to make the same choice and so we decided to start over from scratch and build something new together.

Starting over meant we could (and had to) choose what opportunities and limitations we would have once we got to 70 and eventually on in Wrath to 80. We all voted for endless hours of raiding and epics raining from the skies! Well at least some raiding…

Since there’s four of us and we all love PvE the most, we figured we’d be able to do all instances up to heroics together (without really needing a fifth member), if only we were smart with creating the characters so that they would complement each other.  Four characters designed together would also be a decent start for building a 10-man group for Karazhan and maybe even for Wrath of the Lich King, since all raiding-content will be doable on 10-man level. Maybe not as mighty as 25-man, but it has it’s appeals.

Four characters designed together to complement each other is almost half way to seeing all the content the next expantion has to offer. This is no small thing.

Now I know not everyone is in the same situation as us, not everyone decides to start new somewhere else, but I think a lot of us are looking over our choice of main at the moment, since the introduction of the Wrath of the Lich King means we all get a fresh start in a way.

So how to choose what to play?

To PewPew or not to PewPew

Once we decided we wanted to play Horde and found a server we liked, we still had to decide what to play. We had already decided that we wanted our characters to match, i.e. someone had to roll a tank and someone a healer, the other two some sort of dps classes.

Here’s where I think we made the wrong choice. I used to be a healer and Masque used to be a tank. Idara and Malignant used to play  dps classes. And we were all really really good at what we did, but given the chance to start fresh, we wanted to try out something different. Idara wanted to try out tanking and Malignant agreed to heal, which left me and Masque with the PewPew. I chose a Mage since I’ve always loved playing casters and I’ve always had a weak spot for Mages in particular. Masque chose to play a shadowpriest.

The reason I say that this is where I think we made the wrong choice is that even though we all did really well in our new roles, it eventually turned out that not everyone was happy. There’s a good reason we used to play the roles we used to play, and it turned out that switching around was not as grand an idea as we first thought it would be. So now we find ourselves in the situation, where (because one person was not happy with their role) we all need to rethink what we will play. Which to some extent means leveling new characters… again.

The Lesson

Now here comes the greatest advice I wish to give to anyone who is considering re-rolling and the main reason I decided to write this post:

What you choose to play should be influenced by two main things (1) what part of the game are you interested in and (2) what are the people around you playing.

1.) what part of the game are you interested in: If your main goal is to become champion over the arena, you should choose a class that performs well in the arena. To find out which class is best suited for this you can look at the top arena teams and see what classes they have to help you decide.

If your main goal is to PvE (and here is where (2) also plays in) you should consider what you are good at. Not everyone has the right mindset to be a tank. Consider what you enjoy doing and ask yourself what is more important: what role/class you play or what part of the game you play. If you plan on raiding on a serious level, you’ll most probably be stuck with the first character you level to 80 so make sure you choose what you really wanted. You should think twice before choosing a healer, even if you’re really good at healing, if you find healing boring, since you otherwise risk to loose your raiding spot while you level a new character.

2.) what are the people around you playing: If you are in the same situation as me, that you play with other people, or if you already are in a raiding guild where most raiders are regular attendants, you’ll have to consider where there might be room for you. For the four of us, one tank was enough. Having two tanks or even three would have spoiled our entire leveling experience when it comes to doing instances. In a guild, it could be that there are too many dps. Choosing to re-roll to a dps class if you are one of the few healers in this guild, might cost you the spot in the guild/raid.

And if your main goal is to see new content and you don’t have a guild to play with, you should scout your server to see what roles are most needed. In general, tank is the role there is most demand for at the moment, but this does not apply to end-game raiding, since 25-mans require fewer tanks-per-capita then 5-mans. This could also change once the expantion goes live, since Death Knights will be able to tank, though this is not certain, since many might choose to play as dps.

In conclusion

When choosing what to play, you should first decide what part of the game you are interested in and then make a choice:

Do you want to experience that part of the game at the cost of playing exactly what you want? I love raiding, a team of people working together towards a common goal. I love to explore new content. As much as I like dps, I can be very much content and even happy with being a healer or tank, if this will get me into raids.

Or do you want to play exatly what you love at the cost of seeing certain parts of the game? I have a friend who chose to be a Moonkin and never ever anything else, but he has accepted the fact that there is not always room for him because of this.

I myself want to experience the social part of the game and to see as much content as possible. So as much as I love playing my Mage, I will be switching over to play a druid instead, since I feel the hybrid classes best fit my goals in the game. By choosing a hybril, I am flexible and will be able to play whatever part needed, thus hopefully always ensuring myself a spot in a group.

Others might prioritize differently.


The reason I wrote this post is that I find it very important that we reflect over our actions and that we are aware of the consequences of our choices beforehand, so that we have a greater chance to choose right from the start. I hope this was helpful.



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Putting the ‘pew’ in PewPew

I’ve become quite the adept at battling for the Horde. The spirit resurrectors hardly see me any more these days and I’ve really acquired a taste for night elf blood!

Just to show you all how good it can get: This is what Wolf-sister Maka, the Alterac Valley battleground master, who was keeping track of our progress, had to show us the other day.

There’s simply no beating Aendi and Maque!


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It’s Thursday. I’m in the Shattrath Bank. Again. Rearranging and organizing things. Again.

Fortunately Idara showed up in the nick of time to save me from boredom. She had just finished polishing her shield and said she wanted to try out some new fighting moves, was I interested in joining her into a dungeon? Sure. One of the really hard ones, without the weakening spell on, she insisted. Fine by me.

So she looked up Masque and Malignant and told them both that we were going (she seldom leave room for other people to protest) and that was that. Of course seeing as we were going to venture into one of the tougher dungeons, we would need another person to join us. With Idara tanking and Malignant healing her, we had Masque and me killing off the minions. We needed another person to help out with the killing.

Masque insisted that we go down to the Underbog and kill the Black Stalker, the creature that dwells in the utter depths of the dungeon. Apparently Griftah the troll had told him that the magic of this creature was such that one can use one of its tendrils as a weapon of great power. Masque wanted it.

So we asked around and got told that there was a rogue looking to go to the same place. Are you a good at sneaking around? Yes he was. Good, you’re hired. And off we went.

As usual we had no trouble getting through the creatures that live in the Underbog. The only creatures that gave us some trouble were the two Underbog Lords guarding Hungerfen. They have this nasty ability of growing in size and strenght disturbingly fast. After discussing it we decided on letting Masque distract one of them and lure it away, while the rest of us took care of the other one. We lost Masque in the process, which made him quite grumpy. You’d think with him being an undead and all, he’d be used to it by now… But apart from Masque there were no other casualties.

The great thing about the Underbog is that it is the perfect climate for a very rare flower. It doesn’t grow anywhere but there and it is very highly treasured by the Sporeggar Tribe. It also smells divine.

Dear Diary,

Today Masque gave me a [Sanguine Hibiscus]. Oh my…

We got through the rest of the dungeon without any major problems. We even freed that poor druid again. Seriously, he has to be masochistic. Why would he otherwise let himself get caught by that hunter over and over again. If i was him, I’d move to Azeroth, maybe Hillsbrand Foothills, get me a nice cottage by the Lake and forget all about that hunter, instead of falling into the same selfdistructive relashionship pattern.

After freeing the druid we had to dispatch of two more Underbog Lords and then we found him: the Black Stalker. Tactics were discussed. Idara would rush at it and keep it’s attention while the rogue would sneak up from behind. Masque would attack from the left and me from the right, with Malignant standing between us in case he needed protection.

The fight was short. The creature turned out to be no match for us and after slaying it, Malignant went over to start skinning it. Boy did that ever tick Masque off! He went off screaming on the top of his lungs WAIT! I need to get a tendril first! Don’t skin it yet! Fortunately for him, Malignant had started with the head, so they both got what they wanted.

Turns out that was quite the wand, that Masque acquired. After seeing my disappointment at not getting one as well, he offered to go talk to Griftah again and see if we could find another Black Stalker somewhere to get me the wand.

Dear Diary,

I’m not into the whole date-an-undead thing, but I have to admit Masque’s quite cute. Noone can handle a wand quite like him and that shadowform of his is absolutley delicious.

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