Z Mogged Himself…

It seems that some people didn’t like Z’s outfit.

I don’t understand why, though. I mean, it “sorta” matches. Right?!

See:

—edit—

Someone said I need some Mog help… O.O

A commenter made a mention of my hat.  Here it is, in all it’s premog glory!

—edit—

 

But alas, I’ve given into peer pressure.

I went and made a cheap and easy mog.  I made the Contender Dragonscale Set, and used it to mog my pve gear.

See:

I mogged the bow using the Ironfeather Longbow.

I mogged the Cloak using the Vicious Fur Cloak.

At least, that is what it is for now.

Z

Read Full Post »

Sometimes Gifting Hurts

YOU’VE Not Heard of CINIZA?!

What? Well… No. Should I? You know that I’m kind of shy…

Well, she’s just the bestest, greatest, most facemelting of mages around! Surely you’ve heard of Ciniza?!

Are you sure about this?  How do I find her? Any advice in meeting her?

Yes! You must bring a gift! She is the Heroic Slayer of Dragons, Queen of the Raid, bearer of the great Inscribed Serpent Staff!

/gulp

Ok. But, what would be appropriate?

I happen to have a friend, who knows someone that was a the roommate of her close friend’s second cousin three times removed. She said, that Matoaka said, that she was looking for Otters. Not just any otter, but a Rare Sifang Otter!

You know, the kind that don’t have the characteristic gap in their gnash-gnash-gnashy teeth.

Oh! I think I have one of those… Let me check.

He rummages around in the back room. There is much squeaking, squawking, growling, and other random noises.

Ok, here it is! Turns out I have three of them; and they each are one of the Rare Sifang Otters with the absence of the characteristic gap in their gnash-gnash-gnashy teeth!

His friend /nods in appreciation.

That will do nicely. I suggest you send it to her first. That way she won’t be tempted to blast you into little Night Elf Bits when you first approach her to make her acquaintance.

/nod

Will do. That is a good idea.

As his friend leaves, Zwingli begins to look around for an adequate shipping container. He knew the head of the shipping company as well as the flight master, so he knew the Otter would be taken care of.

There it is!

It was just right. Holes in it for breathing, magicked so the Otter wouldn’t feel any discomfort if the griffon ride was a little bumpy.

Yes, this will work perfectly.

/nods in approval.

He grabs the largest Otter.

She’ll like this one. He’s a strong one. Fitting for a mage of her power.

He begins by placing the Otter in the box, tail first.

The Otter begins to squirm a bit. Then he stiffens his tail, so as to make it nigh impossible to get him to fit!

Ok, maybe the larger one wasn’t the best of ideas.

He looks to the smallest one in his care. Swimming around his little pool, not a care in the world.

She doesn’t have to know it was the smallest. I mean, it’s still a Rare find.

He grabs the small one, and gently begins to place it in the box.

It begins to squirm, then thrash it’s tail. He wiggles free, out of Zwingli’s grasp, water flinging everywhere.

Wait! Whoa! Come back here you slippery little devil!

He picks it up again, and slowly…with a firm grip…places it gently in the box.

At which point, it prompt bites him with it’s characteristically gapped gnash-gnash-gnashy teeth!

He looks hungry…

OUCH! By Cenarius’ Beard! I’M GOING TO FEED YOU TO GLINT! You slippery, furry, little, weaselly butt-nugget! 

Having dropped the Otter to the floor, it promptly jumped back into it’s pool…suspiciously sticking it tongue out at Zwingli as it ducked under the water.

At which point, Pengu catches Zwingli’s eye.

It may not be an Rare Sifang Otter, but at least it’s unique!

Pengu didn’t know what hit him. One minute he was asleep in his nest; the next moment he was taped up in a box, strapped to the back of a griffon.

………………………………………………

It was great fun to meet with Matty. Just kind of a random thing, and I happen to have an extra Pengu on me.  Of course, it took me 20 minutes to figure out that the Sifang Otter wasn’t tradeable!

Doh!

Z

Read Full Post »

Home

The walk was a bit longer than anticipated.  Dreah was pulling his bounty on a small sled behind him.  While the going was relatively easy, he was still pulling three dressed carcasses.  He thought about hooking Tike up to it, but per Tike’s usual clairvoyance; he ran off into the woods as soon as Dreah had the thought.

It wasn’t with just a bit of aching muscles that Dreah’s face lit up in a big smile as he rounded the corner and saw his cottage in the distance.

Looking closer, he noticed a familiar horse-drawn buggy outside of the cottage.  It was Lorindra’s parents!

He looked down at Tike, as he walked along side of him, “Looks like we’ll have company tonight, big guy!”  Tike looked at him incredulously, “Dah and Mum are with us, so you be on your best behavior.”  Dreah gave a firm nod to show Tike that he was serious.

At that, Tike bound into the woods, giving a “sniff” in Dreah’s general direction.

“Oh well, fair enough.  Stay out of trouble you old hound!” Shouted Dreah as Tike ran off.

Tike never was much of a house dog anyway, Dreah thought to himself.

Dreah didn’t head into the cottage immediately, first he had to take care of his kills.  He did knock on the door, though, to let them know he was home.

Dah came out immediately. “Dreah, there is something wrong with Lorindra. She isn’t feeling well!”

Dreah sprinted inside, forgetting about the three carcasses yet to be processed.

Lorindra was laying on the day bed, that doubled as a couch in their open area room.  Mum was sitting beside her, applying a wet cool cloth to her head.

Mum said, “Drin and Wrin ran to our house yesterday, telling us that she had fallen ill.  Dah has called for the Creal, but he was away picking those blasted flowers of his!”  She started weeping.  “He left a message.  Oh Dreah, I hope he comes soon.”

Creal was the local healer.  He was an herbalist of sorts, knowing every plant in the area and their different useful properties.  He also had some magic about him, particularly attuned to nature some believe.  We’ve never asked him; just glad that someone with his ability had taken up residence in our little frontier hamlet.

“She’s been drinking a bit of this broth I made for her,” Mum said, “but, she doesn’t take much.”

“I’ve been up with her all night, Dreah.” Sniffles beginning again.

“Mum, it’s my turn now.  Go see what Dah is doing. I don’t remember following me in.” Taking the wet cloth, Dreah delicately stroked his beloved’s brow.

Mum nodded.  “I’ll go check on him now,” she said as she stood up to leave.

“Drin, Wrin!  Where are you boys.”  Dreah looked around.

He heard them before he saw them, shuffling down the stairs.  They looked down at their dad, tears in their already red and swollen eyes.

“Dad!” They ran to him, burying their faces in his lap.

Through muffled sobs Dreah could hear, “We tried to get Dah and Mum, but mom is sick.  We had to leave her, but we didn’t want to. She made us go, we didn’t want to!” Drin cried as he tried to speak.

“My boys, it’s ok. You did the right thing.  Mom will get better.  She’ll be alright.” Dreah looked deeply into his children’s fearful faces.

“She will, dad?” Wrin said.

“Yes son, she will.  I’ll make sure of it,” Dreah said.

Dreah looked up to hide the tear that was beginning to fall from his own eye.

“Now, where is that fell-fetched healer!” Dreah said in exasperation.

_____________________________________________

Thus continues the saga of Dreah Darkholder.

This is a fictional/fantasy writing on Zwingli’s Blog, for NaNoWriMo. If you read this anywhere other than Zwingli’s Blog, then I’m flattered!

Z

 

Read Full Post »

We All Have a Book In Us

I was once told by a professor I dearly loved, “we all have at least one book in us.”

I believe him.  After much thought, I’ve decided to participate in NaNoWriMo.  The silly thing is, it took BBB’s post to remind me that today was the beginning of it!

Thanks Bear!

So, in honor of NaNoWriMo and my brand spankin’ new computer, we’re off to writing!

______________________

Dreah had been hunting for a couple of days.

This wasn’t unusual. When he hunted, it was usually for three or more days at a time.  He didn’t go often, at least not any more.  Not since he had gotten United.  The last thing he wanted to do was be gone from his better-half, Lorindra for very long.

Let’s not forget the kids!  They had been blessed with two beautiful, if not exasperating boys.

Yes, the last thing he wanted was to be traipsing through the woods for weeks at a time.  Some called him a hunter, others called him a ranger, some just called him a woodsman.  He thought of himself as “her’s.” There was no longer a “me,” just a “we” in his mind.

The unusual thing would have been the absence of any game being bagged.  Now, that would be highly unusual!

Per the ordinary, he was bringing back plenty of food.

He had brought down a deer.  He liked deer…A Lot!  This particular doe was on her last legs, quite literally since her back left leg seemed to had gone lame.  He knew that she wouldn’t see but a few more nights before being caught by the wolves in the area.

He had thought about taking the old buck.  He was well into his twilight years as well.  There were plenty of young stags around to take his place.  But, when the time came to take the shot, he just couldn’t.

Perhaps because he felt sorry for him. Maybe because he was starting to feel his age as well.  Maybe because he wanted to give some other hunter a chance at bagging him.

He didn’t know.  He just knows that he couldn’t take the shot.

He had also brought down a couple of wild hogs.  Not that he liked them as much as deer, but they were becoming a nuisance to the outlying farmers.  These were the easiest to find.  He had promised farmer Leland to take a couple from his land on his way back home.  One day of analyzing the tracks and rutting behavior.  One early evening to catch them unaware.

Now, the family will have both deer and pork in abundance for quite a while!

Sausage, jerky, smoked, salt cured… Oh how he could taste the goodness already!

And bacon.  He loved bacon.  He was convinced that bacon could make any meal better!

He looked up at the sun.  It was about mid-afternoon by his reckoning.

He let out a loud whistle, and barked out: “Tike!  Where are you boy!”

Out of the woods, ahead of him along the path, he heard a bark.  Through the underbrush bound a big black dog!

He was truly a mut, by every standard.  Sure, you could make out the water-dog breeding, but other than that you just couldn’t be sure.

He wasn’t as big as some dogs.  But, his head came up right above Dreah’s waste.  He weighed in at right over one hundred pounds.  He would almost be called lithe and muscular, if he wasn’t quite so big.

A nice black dog, with a single while line bisecting his chin, falling along his neck, onto his chest. It ended into a white star-burst on Tike’s chest.

He had been Dreah’s companion for many years. Truly, best of friends.  Hunting, tracking, even fighting together in the wilds.  It was almost as if Tike could read Dreah’s thoughts.  As if he knew of Dreah’s intentions before the action ever came. Almost like one Intention working through two bodies.

Dreah just felt blessed that Tike was by his side.

Another hour and they would be home.

Dreah couldn’t wait!

__________________________________________

Thus begins the saga of Dreah Darkholder…

This is a fictional/fantasy writing on Zwingli’s Blog, for NaNoWriMo. If you read this anywhere other than Zwingli’s Blog, then I’m flattered!

Z

Read Full Post »

Rade’s Fanboi

If you are not reading Rades of Orcish Army Knife, then you should be!

I also would like to see Blizzard hire him as a consultant to their writers.  In my estimation, he would make their stories so much better!

His last piece, on “Why Garrosh in Tides of War makes no sense” is great!

Ok, enough fanboi lovin.

Go Read His Blog!

I know that you’ll get as much enjoyment of it as I do.
Z

Read Full Post »

What if…

…there was another RP guild? 

There are lots of RP guilds out there.

I know, I’ve been a member of a few of them.

RP/PvP guilds, Race Specific guilds, Heavy/Medium/Light RP guilds. There is a Plethora, no a Cornucopia of RP guilds out there!

Why in the heck does the WoW server-verse need another RP guild?

Well…that’s a good question.

Truth be told, it doesn’t “need” anything.  It’s a game. There isn’t shortage of anything in WoW.

…except Hunters. We always need MOAR HUNTERS!

*cough*

Anyway, what if there was another RP guild?

Any suggestions on Realms, Faction and Theme(s)?

Z

Read Full Post »

Becoming…

Zwingli knew what he had to do, but boy did he not want to do it!

“A servant? Me?” He huffed in aggravation.

“Sure, I’m willing to learn. But, I want to be treated as an equal! Really, what would my family say if they found out?!”

He shook his head in disgust.  But then, he felt it.

He didn’t understand it, but he knew it to be true.

If he was ever to lead anything or anyone, he had to understand what it means to serve.

If he wants to truly understand what makes the connection with the land an animals of Mulgore so strong among the Taurens, then he has sink himself deep into their culture.   Maybe Cairne was right, he “needed to become one of them.

*sigh*

Zwingli looks down at his new animal companion, Nephma.  “What do you think?  You’re supposed to be some super spiritual two world walking kitty.  Do you have any advice for me?”

Of course Nephma said nothing.

Zwingli slowly made his way from the Spirit Rise, to the Lower Rise.  He then made his way up through the central totem until he came to the High Rise.

Across the way, he could see the Tauren High Chieftain, Baine Bloodhoof, presiding over his people.

As Zwingli walked up to him, Baine looked upon him with knowing eyes.

“Well met, Blood Elf.  Be welcomed among us. All of the Horde are welcome to Thunder Bluff.  What is your need?”

Zwingli looked upon him for just a moment, not knowing what to say.

Defiance rose up within him, while at the same time a longing for a home he never was able to really have.

A desire to be understood was there, yet the feeling of lostness and aimlessness was present as well.

Not knowing why, Zwingli just started to sob, not quite able to hold himself up. As he fell, a huge Tauren arm reached out to catch him.

It was Baine.

“I had a dream that you would be coming our way little one.  My father said that you needed a home, a place to find yourself and the destiny our great Earthmother has for you. ” Baine looked into Zwingli’s eyes, as the young Blood Elf looked up.

“Zwingli, you shall be one of us. Not everyone will understand, and to be honest I don’t know either. But today, you shall begin the Great Hunt. Find yourself here, little one.  You have found your home.”

At this, Baine lifted Zwingli up to where he could stand on his own.

Zwingli’s only reply was to:

Read Full Post »

Busy, Busy, BUSY Dead Elf!!!

I don’t know how long I waited, but it seemed like forever.

As you can imagine…
I’m still dead.

My guess is that the Spirit Healer got tired of me being there.
I can’t say that I was the best of company. As I’m sure you know, pouting is a OP Belf Racial Ability.

Not that I’m a brat or anything. OH NO!

She pointed in a direction and said, “Run. Run that way, before I make your condition permanent!”

So, I ran.

And, I ran.

And, I ran some more.

In the distance I saw a Tauren burial ground, not unlike I just left.
However, once I got there, I knew exactly what I had to do.

A voice in my head spoke to me. An aged voice. One of great authority, and even greater wisdom.

“I am Cairne; former Chieftain of the Tauren. You come seeking knowledge of the Hunter, but you know not what you seek. If you truly seek the wisdom of the Shu’halo, then you must join us in all things.

You must become something that goes against your very nature, Sin’dorei. You must become a Servant of the Tribe. Offer yourself to my son and current Chieftain, Baine Bloodhoof.  He will know what to do.”

The world seemed to begin to fade away. I finally heard him say one more thing, as from far away.

“You must become one of us little one, to find your true potential as a hunter…”

I come to, still dead, but back in the presence of the Spirit Healer.

Looking at me, she says, “It is almost time for you to return to the land of the living. But first, there is someone else you should meet.”

It felt like every hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. I was being watched. There was something…or someone watching me.

I couldn’t help myself. I looked around, finally glancing up.

I tell you, if I was alive, I would have wet myself.

By the Sun Well, he looked hungry!

The Spirit Healer said, “I’m not sending you back alone. Meet Nephma. One who walks both paths. He shall now walk with you.”

I swear I feinted.

Next thing I knew, I awoke in a pool.

With what looked like a mouth with very sharp teeth staring him in the face.

Read Full Post »

Where Being Dead is Boring

We last left our fearless, beautifully fully blond headed, Belf Hunter in a predicament.

He’s dead.

He’s dead… and bored.

You might say, BORED STIFF! /BWAHAHAHA!!!

I kill me!

Oh wait…. O.O

Where was I?

Oh yes, dead.

Yes. That is me… Trying to sleep.

Did you know there really is no sleeping in the afterlife?

In this case, I’m not sure if there is an afterlife.  I’m sure there should be something “after” this!

Isn’t this supposed to be transitional?!

So I ask the Spirit Healer, “What is going on? Why am I stuck here? Is this all there is?”

She responds, “I’m actually doing you a favor. Apparently you strode upon the hem of the Angel of Death’s robe. She is waiting for your return, so that her staff can gnaw upon your face!”

/gulp!

“You shall bide your time here little one, until her wrath is fully sedated upon the demise of her RBG enemies. Then, and only then shall I help you return to the life you once knew,” she says in ghostly a voice.

“Do we have an understanding little one?” she said.

“Yes mam.“ I replied.

“I’m glad we had this talk,” was her final response.

_______________________________

note: Navimie is one of the nicest persons ever! She is nothing like Navizor is being made out to be. I was talking to her earlier in the day, and mentioned that I needed to get Belf-Z back to life. She laughed and gave me tacit approval.

Z

Read Full Post »

Confessions of an RP Snob

I’m an RP snob.

I know it. I admit it.

Somewhere I heard that confession was the beginning of healing.

Anyway, I know, that I know, that I know I’m an RP snob. (Woohoo; horrid comma use!)

Since I’m such a snob, and I know I’m such a snob, I tend to not RP.

See? Make sense?

Part of what makes me angry, in regards to my previous post, has to do with my RP snobbery.

The person bad-mouthing the GM, did so in regards to the GM’s RP.

The “bad-mouther” had asked about a back story of an alt of the GM. Supposedly, the GM gave him the back story; but it was “filled with misspelled words.”

I’m thinking typos, but what do I know.

The new member, aka “bad-mouther” told him he wasn’t any good at RP, and walked away from him.

The GM then “punished” him for his bad manners by making him a “squire” of another member. One that supposedly the “bad-mouther” got along with.

So, the “bad-mouther” was calling the GM a “douche-bag” in guild chat. Explaining how the GM was a bad RPer, and how his punishment was ineffective since he liked the person he was “squired” to.

Yes, I wholeheartedly dislike disunity. I feel this person was bringing disruption into the group. I believe that this person was acting cowardly by attacking the GM when he wasn’t online.

However…

Most of all…

I felt this guy was a complete and total idiot because of his name…

The person who is on an RP server, complaining about the RP of another person, has the name of:

“Pwnful”

How ironic.

Z

Read Full Post »