With Oilcan’s acquistion of a Deadly Gladiator’s Chain Helm, I finally have a full PvP set. Only my weapons are non-PvP.

Closing in on 20k kills in the BGs, I can only wonder at where I might be if I hadn’t taken almost 2 full years off from PvP.

Some random notes (keep in mind, records are only since WotLK and Achievements and don’t include anything prior):

Alterac Valley: 28-33 record, 2030 HKs, 208 deaths, Loyal Defender and The Alterac Blitz

Arathi Basin: 13-25, 873 HKs, 209 deaths

Warsong Gulch: 22-33, 1180 HKs, 365 deaths, Supreme Defender

Eye of the Storm: 9-13, 549 HKs, 121 deaths, The Perfect Storm

Wintergrasp: Not tracked as Achievements apparently, but have Vehicular Gnomeslaughter, which is just cool anyway

Oilcan currently has Resilience north of 800. Cuts chance to be hit and crit by about 9%, reduces damage from crits by about 20%, and an additional damage reduction of another 9%.

When I got back onto PvP, OC had less than 300 Resilience. The difference between 300 and 800+ is quite noticeable. You just live longer and survive more. If you’re getting into PvP and are discouraged by your squishiness, just keep at it. More and more Resilience will keep piling on as you get PvP gear; in addition, the frantic and furious skills you develop as a squishie desperately trying to stay alive will make you all the more formidable when you ARE able to stay alive.

Just stay away from Ret pallies.

Alpham’s a tank, a Prot pally. I dual-specced him into Holy, figuring that the KLA might need a healer now and then, or for one tank bosses. However, the KLA has 3-4 Holy pallies, several Resto druids, a couple Resto shammies….you get the idea. Raids bring the tanks and healers that all the expected fights need, and if there’s a fight needing less, or trash, then the extra tank or healer switches to….dps. I can’t recall when a tank or healer ever swapped into the other, and Alpham sure didn’t. His Holy gear was pretty good, and pretty, too…all brand spankin’ shiny in his bags.

So I second-specced him Ret. Been saving Ret gear from quests up to 80, from the odd Naxx or Ulduar boss when no one else wanted it. It was all there, in his bank, un-enchanted and un-gemmed. So I swapped it all for the Holy gear he’d been carrying around, and started gemming and enchanting it. When I was done, Alpham was a 11/5/55 Ret pally, with only 4 gear slots with less than i200 level gear. /thank buddy Kams for the Spiked Titansteel Helm, Spiked Titansteel Treads, and the Titansteel Destroyer (which is awesome because as a dwarf, Alpham gets the +5 Expertise racial for using a mace).

So, geared, gemmed, enchanted, specced, off Alpham went to faceroll the World of WoW.

/gchat: Who wants to run a couple Heroics with Al’s shiny new Ret spec?

/gchat: <crickets>

/gchat: C’mon! I haven’t even smacked a Deeprun Tram rat as Ret! It’ll be fun!

/gchat: <the crickets run and hide>

Nah, really, folks jumped and in no time Al was in H-VH reminding himself that he wasn’t the tank, to get behind the mobs, and remember to hit  the whatever-the-spell-to-hit-when-the-mob’s-below-20% button.

Rets are apparently Whack-a-Mole brothers-in-arms to Survival hunters, so it wasn’t that hard to mash the right buttons (mostly), and I eagerly glanced at the Recount as the last of the first pull died.

…

wtf? 500 dps?

…

Second trash pull: maybe 600dps on Recount.

Vent: Um, guys?

All: Yes?

Vent: Is anyone seeing what I’m seeing for Alpham on Recount?

All: <A resounding YES WE SEE ALPHAM’S LESS THAN HUNTER PET, LESS THAN HOLY PALLY DPS>

…

Oilcan does 4-5k+ dps. They were loving it, but acted concerned and helpful.

“Did you switch to Ret spec yet? Do you still have your tank gear on? Are you repaired? Want to /follow the hunter’s pet and watch and learn?”

MT: Let’s kick the pansy!

…

I was furiously checking everything: Hit - 294, check. Expertise - 23, not 26-capped, but, check. Spec - Ret, check. Gear - all Ret, check. Repaired - 90%+, check. Action bars - Spells on the buttons, check. Year - 2009, not 2006, check.

By the time we got to the second boss, my dps was confirmed as weaker than a fart in the wind. Luckily, the MT d/c’d early on the second boss and we wiped. He deserved it, anyway…that “Kick him” remark…paybacks are a bitch ><

I ran back and /afk sec to get up from the compy, take a short walkaround and review what the heck could be happening, that my decently specced and geared Ret pally was doing less dps than Oilcan’s PETS.

<ding>

Deeprun Tram rats.

Y’see, Oilcan is a hunter and really, rarely actually *used* his melee weapon. I did, however, get EVERY weapon skill to 400 after hitting 80, as he was out there farming leather and stuff, and one-shotting mobs gets pretty boring. So I’d buy him a green whatever for whichever weapon skill he was trying to skill up and go whack things. Specifically, the Deeprun Tram rats.

Alpham never did that. As a matter of fact, Al’s never been anything but sword and board since I picked him up at lvl48…all one-handers. And that shiny brand=spankin’ new Titansteel Destroyer is, of course, NOT a one-hander.

I come back, let my guildies in party know I’ve figured it out. Sure enough, my 2H mace skill is something like 200. My white attacks are something like 50% miss, 50% glancing….I might as well be a level 40 trying to hit things in H-VH. Said guildies, now no longer worried that the order of their world is crashing down upon their heads, are no longer as helpful and concerned as before.

They are condescendingly, faux-helpfully, titteringly, LAUGHING THEIR ASSES OFF!

“OC, put Al on /follow and let my pet show him where to stand.”

“OC, my healer can do more white damage than that…AND STILL HEAL!”

“Hey, let me see if I can beat Al’s dps WITH MY EYES CLOSED!”

<sigh>

By the time we got Cyanigosa down, Al’s skill was over 300 and he was about 1300 dps on her. By the end of the next run into H-AN, he was about half the dps of the hunter and rogue. Since they were usually around 3-3.5k, Al was about 1.6k with his weapon skill at 375 yet.

Deeprun Tram rats will fear me.

Give an old hunter time to hobble over to his rocking chair with his Diamond-Tipped Cane, plop down on a folded Flumbub’s Seat Cushion, and light up his Hickory Pipe, and I’ll tell you how PvP was in the olden days.

When the Mines and the Lumber Yard in Arathi Basin were uphill…both ways.

When you didn’t bring raid gear to run Alterac Valley.

When you could fight in Warsong Gulch for an hour, and were GRATEFUL to be there, dadgum it!

There was no resilience (other than that Ally would get their heads beat in, yet still come back for more).

No traps in combat for hunters, no sirree! You had to PLAN back then. No plopping down a trap whenever you felt like it.

Mages would Frost Nova, hop back a couple yards and pew-pew from 6-7 yards and a hunter had to sit there and take it. Or go get a drink while waiting for the Inevitability that was the Dead Zone.

Warriors’ Hamstring had the same effect as Wing Clip, PLUS a Bleed added in…AND lasted 3 seconds longer than said Wing Clip….hmm….that one hasn’t changed, come to think of it…but at least you younguns got Disengage now. Back when, we had to dip and dodge like a drunken butterfly and hope the warrior got dizzy…

Priests and Locks would DoT you to death…even if you killed them…you whippersnappers got your Resilience now, are you happy?

Rogues, having literally danced around our traps (inside their 5 yard arming radius) without setting them off, would then go and complain that our pets could see through their Stealth…conveniently forgetting that animal senses are 10-1000 times more sensitive than human senses.

Pallies…well, they warnt none, y’see, ’cause if you were a pally, you were ally. There still warnt none, tho, ’cause lolRets were, well, LOL…..Holy pallies were barely better than Mend Pet….and Prot pallies in PvP were even more LOL than the lolRets….

And CC lasted as long as the tooltip said. I’ve got popsicles that last longer in the sun than Freeze Trap does now.

So, I’m gonna sit here and remember the good old days of honor farming, HK-generating, GY-camping, and /waves to same-server Horde.

Are you still here?

GTFO MY LAWN!

U10 group had good dps, though melee heavy, as the KLA downed Freya (try #2) and Thorim (try#3).

Freya trash has a disconcerting tendency to ignore OC’s traps. No resists. No dots on target. Well away from main group. Just….trap disappears while OC get whacked on. <sigh>

Resolved: I will not die in the Gauntlet on Thorim.

Poor Dram, our dps warrior, did. We took quite a while getting through it, as we missed an acolyte standing under a mini-boss for about 30 seconds, and the mini-boss’ AoE took Dram (and Tito) out. We made to the Arena, though, and started the boss stage.

Rezzers: “Where’s Dram? I can’t find him??”

Me: “In the Gauntlet. Dead. You can’t rez him.”

“Oh”

Must be the most boring death, falling in the Gauntlet, yet watching the raid fight the boss, in chat and vent,  while you stare at dead npcs, the odd skittering vermin, and the Release Box. And even after Victory….you still have to release….raid has to wait while you run back in….folks staring greedily at the loot chest, salivating….while they wait for you….

Won’t happen to me. I’ll MD the Gauntlet healer, send Tito straight after Thorim, something, anything.

***Apologies for the delay in posts; RL busyness intervened***

The KLA’s working on Hodir, with his 50 bajillion things going on to deal with. Our first real attempt on him resulted in good progress, but not yet victory. The first couple attempts got him to 70% or so, then folks started getting the hang on staying alive, with the next couple attempts getting him to 20-40%. We got him as low as 5% or so before out time (and Fish Feasts) ran out.

The Attacks

Hodir, and the room, have several varied attacks, most of which can be avoided. Biting Cold affects the whole room with a stacking Frost DoT, but can be removed (one stack per second) by moving. Keep twitching/jumping to remove, and if you get several stacks, keep moving for several seconds. Die from this and its YOUR fault.

Freeze will frost nova several raid members; staying spread out will help alleviate this (but isn’t really avoidable due to the constant movement). It can and should be dispelled; after getting free, you may have to move for several seconds to get rid of Biting Cold stacks that built up while immobilized. Blue Runes mark where Icicles will fall, dealing damage from Ice Shards; stay out of them or it’s on YOUR head.

Periodically, Hodir will start a long cast, of Flash Freeze. Large blue runes appear (again, stay out of them as Icicles will drop), but this time, the Icicles will form Snow Drifts after hitting the floor; Jump onto a Snow Drift before he finishes casting Flash Freeze. If you fail, you’ll take some Frost damage, but more importantly, you will be Ice Blocked. Raid members will have to attack and beat down those Ice Blocks, as getting hit by another Flash Freeze while Ice Blocked is insta-death, not to mention that anyone Ice Blocked is useless until freed. Again, avoiding this is on YOUR head.

Lastly, there is Frozen Blows, which essentially swaps Hodir’s melee damage from physical to Frost, but more importantly, does 4k AoE Frost damage to the entire raid every 2 seconds for 20 seconds. This is where Frost Resist gear comes in handy. The other attacks can usually be avoided, but this cannot, so help your healers out and get some resist gear.

The NPCs

There are (in 10-man) 4 NPCs, which can be a great help in the fight. They begin the fight Ice Blocked and will need to be freed (after the tank engages, or they will despawn!), and will periodically need to be freed from Flash Freeze’s Ice Blocks also.

The Mage: Missy

Her Fireball does more damage than the attacks of the other NPCs, but her real help comes from her ability to remove Ice Blocks from other NPCs and players, and from her Toasty Fire, which will prevent Freeze and Biting Cold, and also allows the Singed debuff on the boss. However, it only affects a few players, so don’t assume you have just because you are near it. In addition, the fire warms the roof of the room and will eventually cause a blue rune to appear and the attendant Icicles to fall. So don’t get comfy!

The Shaman: Avuun

While the shaman does some boss damage, he also casts Storm Power, increasing a raid members’ critical strike damage by 135%, and important buff to damage when dpsers are wearing Frost Resist gear. Getting this buff increased OC’s damage by 30%-50% over not having it, and is more important for damage purposes than Toasty Fire for hunters, as the Singed debuff will proc from ranged attacks, but will only stack upon Magic (not Physical) attacks (i.e. Nature, Arcane, Fire damage/DoTs - yes, they are “Physical” attacks that do ”Magic” damage, but now’s not the time to explain that, so trust me).  The buff can also be spread to other raid members by moving physically close to them. Since the buff lasts a while (30 seconds), healers should take care of healing, and others should take care of staying alive, but slowly try to make your way to a dpser to spread it to them.

The Druid: Brightfeather

Brightfeather casts Starlight, in addition to a damage attack on the boss. Increasing Haste isn’t a big deal for hunters in this intensely movement oriented fight, but twitching back and forth in the beam will haste autoshot so the “stop” portion of move-stop-move is less, allowing for more autoshots. Starlight is more important for the healers and caster dps.

The Priest: Penny

Penny has a LOLSmite, and can heal a bit, but mostly will help dispel Freeze. The last NPC that should be freed.

Conclusion

Not since the Shade of Aran have there been a fight this active and requiring intense attention. You’ll always be moving out of something, moving to something or someone, and finding other players and NPCs. You can stop and /poke Hodir when he’s dead…

Oilcan’s been running Uldaur; he’s my main, can use some gear from there, and is good dps. But when the guild went in Thursday for a 10-man, we were short a tank.

Enter Alpham. Heroic (ilvl200+) geared, Naxx tank (but without gear from Naxx, really).

I was apprehensive. I started calculating how much gold I’d have to transfer from my bank toon.

We weren’t even starting with Flame Leviathan, or XT or even Razorscale. No, we had already downed them the day before, plus a few more, leaving only bosses we had not yet downed.

Ignis was gonna break Alpham’s Ulduar cherry. <gulp>

Main tank’s easy: smack, back him up, smack, turn, back him up.

Rinse and repeat.

Offtank: Grab a mob that could be coming from anywhere in the room, aggroing onto anyone, and pick him out from (usually) under Ignis’ gigantic hit box. Move said mob from wherever he is in the room to Ignis’ Scorch, wherever THAT is (and the most recently laid one, as you don’t want to 9 stacks on the mob only to have the Scorch derez). Get the mob Molten, then kite/move him into the ponds (deep into the ponds, as they will tend to stop *justshy* and spit/cast at you) to get them brittle. Hope your designated dpser does actually kill the brittle bastard. Move away as they die to avoid the AoE. And hope your designated dpser can, in fact, dump a single 5k blast on the mob, because otherwise you’ll have to start the whole dam thing over again. Oh, and hope your personal healer doesn’t get slagpotted and die. And that YOU don’t die.

Rinse and repeat.

Alpham, of course, was the OT.

OC’s wiped on Ignis,…I dunno…ten times? Both 10 and 25 man; Ignis is skipped by a lot of runs.

Alpham’s cherry-popping, devirginizing, unflowering first attempt:

Oneshot.

Thank you, thank you very much <bows>

P.S.: Thanks to Zahr, who kept my dwarven butt alive!

Chapter 5-4

Darkmoon Faire

The “few more errands” for Lylandris had taken several days, and also quite a toll on his armor. His fingers ached from all the stitching he had done on his own armor, and his coin purse barely jingled from the cost of repairing his weapons at the weaponsmith. As Garl closed the door to his room and headed through the Great Forge to the bank, he hoped the auctions he had put up before heading to Warsong had sold; he doubted “military pay” would be sufficient to remain solvent.

He was thus busy pouring through his mail when a gnome hopped out the bank, jumped over and on the mailbox and hurtled over his head screaming “Melnan! You’re back!”

Momentarily diverted from gathering funds, he stared as the gnome ran under and through (mostly under) the crowds between the bank and auction house towards a lavishly dressed dwarf. He watched as the gnome shook the dwarf’s hand up and down repeatedly….no…it was the gnome that jumped up and down repeatedly while their clasped hands were virtually motionless, jabbering away at the dwarf. The dwarf appeared not to notice the frantic gnome, drawing a deep breath and lifting his chin only to be interrupted as he started to speak by a chattering gnome randomly appearing in his vision. The dwarf finally sighed, dropped his nose to see the gnome, put his hand on the bouncing gnome’s head and gently pushed down until the gnome’s feet were no longer lifting off the ground (though the bouncing never quite stopped), and handed him something which the gnome held in two hands and stared at with a silly smile, allowing the dwarf to step around him and continue on his way.

Garl gathered his mail while still staring at the gnome; the once-again booming voice of the dwarf started up again:

“The Darkmoon Faire is coming! Be sure to experience all the wonders and excitement of it when it comes to town!
Right now, the Faire is outside Goldshire, in the Elwynn Forest. Don’t miss out! Go today!”

The gnome looked up and Garl quickly returned to his mail…but it was too late. Two glass-rimmed eyes rose above the top of the letter Garl was intently staring through and then dropped and disappeared, only to reappear below the letter.

“…undersigned hereby agrees to the heretofore mentioned party agreeing to beGOOD FOR FIVE (5) DARKMOON TICKETSif and only if, and at the sole discretionWHEN REDEEMED AT THE DARKMOON FAIRE……..”

Garl sighed a very similar sigh to that of the Darkmoon Faire Barker and returned the letter to the pile in his other hand.

“An’ tha’ big glossy red ticket wou’d be…..?”

The gnome, pleased at having garnered the attention of someone, anyone, at last, held said big glossy red ticket above his head with both hands.

“Free tickets! FIVE! At the Darkmoon….surely you’ve heard of the Darkmoon Faire?!?”

Garl had of course heard of it. His brothers had often brought back various and sundry trinkets and toys for him that mysteriously seemed to break shortly before the Faire returned to the area. “Trust a carnie”, they said, ” and you deserve…”

“Don’t you have yours yet?” The big red glossy ticket once again was waved in front of his face,,,,or rather, his chest…..

“Eh, nope. Ah’ve ne’er been ta it, but Ah’ve seen….”

“Never been? Never BEEN? NEVER been? Why how can anyone..”

“No, ne’er been. An’ fer what Ah’ve ‘eard….”

“Well then, permit me to be your guide!” The rambunctious gnome gave a surprisingly elegant bow, with an equally smooth sweep of his hand towards the general direction of Stormwind, and also the nether regions of a rather startled night elf. The gnome’s outstretched hand shifted just enough to avoid the incoming slap of the elf, a move seemingly as practiced and rehearsed as the bow….

As a second attempt at a slap was on its way, the gnome straightened up and grasped Garl’s hand.

” I’m Aksi, at your…..DO you mind, madam? I’m talking here!….at your service! And you are?”

“….Garl…Oilcan, if you want….”

He had a few days off, and could use the diversion….

* * * * *

The sunbeams were brightly sliding through the branches of Elwynn Forest as Oilcan and Aksi passed through Goldshire and spotted the even brighter banners and pennants of the Faire on the outskirts of the village. As they drew closer to the tents and the milling crowd, they heard a piercing, slightly shrill voice over the barker cries and the din of the crowd:

“Step right up! Step right up! Greetings my friend. I’m Silas Darkmoon and I want to welcome you to the greatest show on Azeroth! It’s the Darkmoon Faire friend, and it’s your lucky day! Sparing no expense, we’ve gathered wonders and treats from around the world for your delight. Whether you’re young or old, rich or poor, the Darkmoon Faire has it all!

“Amaze at the wonders that the Darkmoon Faire has uncovered in this vast and mysterious world! We have spared no expense in bringing you excitement that children of all ages will delight in!

“We have it all… delicious food, strong drink, exotic artifacts, fortunes read, amazing prizes and excitement without end!

“And, don’t forget to turn in your Darkmoon Faire Prize Tickets! All it takes is five or more and you’re on your way to the most wondrous prizes on all of Azeroth. Everybody is a winner!”

“That’s Silas Darkmoon…yes, the owner and proprietor….”

Oilcan lost the rest of Aksi’s chatter as he stared and kept walking. The colorful tents, the wonderful smells…he saw a flash of flame….the carnies were of all races and sizes….a small bot bumped his foot and qucikly turned and raced off….

” If you’re trying to be friendly, “ the deep face came several feet above the rather nauseating belly button Oilcan was suddenly nose to hole with, ” save your breath. Or better yet, stop breathing all together.”

The belly button disappeared as Aksi yanked Oilcan away from the huge ogre.

“…and that’s Burth, short for Burth. He’s Silas’ bodyguard and no, his belly button is not an attraction, though it could be…..there’s Gelvis Grimgate, we can turn yur vouchers in to him…come on!”

“Yes, friend, may I help you? Do you ahve a voucher that needs redeeming? Welcome to the Darkmoon Faire! This voucher is good for FIVE, yes, FIVE prize tickets! When you accumulate prize tickets, you’ll want to speak to me about redeeming them for valuable prizes. The more tickets you get, the more prizes you can win. Huzzah!”

Oilcan found himself nodding…yes, yes, more tickets, more tickets!…

“HEY!” Aksi yelled, hopped and somehow double slapped Garl before dropping back to the ground. “Watch it, kiddo, there’s magic here, don’t you know that?”

Of course, Garl thought, the same magic as traveling tinkers and sellers used, only on a much larger scale. He gathered his wits that had been scattered once by magic and twice by the slaps…

Aksi darted back and forth across the fairgrounds, periodically checking back and comparing finds with Garl, who had decided to methodically explore the Faire. There was Chronos the Leatherworker, and Kerri Hicks, a rather remarkable human women displaying the strength of an ogre, and other beings and creatures which he would have sworn were imaginary. He found the food and drink vendors….

“HEY GARL! Lookit MMMEEEEEeeeeeeee…….” Aksi’s voice faded way as it trailed his flying body, suddenly hurtled over the treetops by a cannon, the roar of which was still resounding through the wood.

Garl finished his….sixth?….Darkmoon Special Reserve….wow, he should order a case of that, delivered…..and drew himself up from the wooden bench and table which had seemed so sturdy when he had sat down. He’d better go find the gnome before something found him. Aksi had pointed out the soothsayer, Sayge…..he might as well get his fortune told before leaving.

“The longer you wait, the less future you have for me to foretell.
Come speak with me, and what once was cloudy shall become crystal clear.
I have long known you’d seek me out, adventurer.
Every sentient being in this world is driven by the choices they make. Choices begat further choices, and these in turn make someone who they are. This is where your fortune is drawn from - who you are, and the choices you make.
Are you ready to discover where your fortune lies, adventurer? “

Garl crumpled the fortune somewhere in his pack, somewhere, and headed down the road to Lakeshire in Redridge, in the general direction of Aksi’s trajectory. He was certain he’d have to rescue somebody from Aksi….

* * * * *

“A friend of mine, Aksi - a gnome, does father know anything about him? - and I visited the Darkmoon Faire and had a grand time. A nice break from the routine!”

He had seen the Alliance Battlemasters, of course, during his training sessions with Regnus and Belias Thundergranite in Ironforge, though he had resisted his curiosity about their dais. The lessons from the two trainers had shifted, it had seemed of late, from beastlore and attacks towards tactics that seemed better suited towards warfighting. That, and and he had felt the eyes of the corporal making his way to and from the dais upon him several times, usually with a quick glance towards Regnus. When a note from Regnus arrived saying that in lieu of their next session, he was to report to Lylandris of the Silverwing Sentinels in the Hall of Arms, he knew his suspicions were correct: He was being recruited.In the Hall, Regnus caught his eye and nodded towards the Battlemasters’ dais, encouragingly, but unsmiling. As he made his way up, he saw the corporal looking at him as he whispered to a tall night elf in a Silverwing tabard.

“…for the Tower Captain at Sentinel. Regnus agrees.”

He caught those last words as the corporal turned towards him. His eyes were deep set and rather harried, and it occurred to Garl that he was little more than a single note on a very large checklist.

“Hunter Garl? This is Lylandris, of the Silverwing Sentinels.” With that, the corporal turned back to the night elf, saluted and accepted a cursory one in return, and brushed by Garl on his way back down the dais.

Garl stood to the side of the tall night elf, trying to glance at him without seeming to fidget. A sparkling tabard, some bits and pieces of metal, and piercing eyes were what he noticed. When the eyes focused on him, the visage of the night elf did not change.

“The Tower Captain at Sentinel spoke well of your conduct, and Regnus reports that your training has progressed well enough that you may be of service to the Alliance effort. Are you interested? Have you heard of Warsong Gulch? Both sides claim the mills and yards, and the materials are essential to our efforts, so we need every volunteer. Are you?”

One single battle and they wanted him? He was almost killed and certainly -

“Well?Are you?”, the sharp voice of Lylandris snapped him out of his thoughts, a fisherman yanking his catch from a cold stream.

“…Yes…sir. I …if you…”

“Good. Take the portal, those you arrive with will help organize. Go, now, quickly.”

This last came as a night elf popped out of a portal and headed straight for Lylandris. The general’s attention of him dropped as swiftly as it had come upon him.

The shimmering subsided and a gray stone floor, then walls came into view. He saw an assemblage of various folks - gnomes and dwarfs, magic-users and rogues, and others, as varied as any in any tavern he’d been in. A large warrior was marshaling them towards and out through a gate even as it was still clanking upwards. He started to follow and was brought up short by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Hunter, you stay here. With us.”

He turned and saw three night elves…a druid and two rogues, to judge from the daggers worn by two and a staff slung on the back of the third that reached even higher than his ears. There armor, though worn, was clean, and despite their easy stance and movement, appeared tightly strapped. His eyes scanned over the leather workmanship - that stitch there was unfamiliar- when the druid’s next words interrupted his inspection.

“Let them go. We need you here. Get tracking up - for horde, you know - and get some traps down. Get your pet over - a bear? Oh well - over there. You get back in there.”

He tried to follow the flurry of orders, the hands pointing to a ramp descending to an out-of-view tunnel, to a smallish room off in a corner, to a wall with streaks and stains of various colors joining the tunnel ramp and the now silent gate, back to a small, uncovered area….he went, as much as he was pushed, anyway. Trap laid down…no, no, right HERE!…Can you see them yet? No?…Spout STAY!…he felt himself pushed, pulled, prodded into the corner room.

The room had gone quiet, suddenly. “What are we waiting for? Where’d they go?”, he whispered to the druid beside him, as he risked a look back into the main room for the rogues. After getting a smack and a shush, in that order, for his answer, the druid whispered, “Anything on tracking?” Garl shook his head, not risking another smack.

“That table? Those ledgers?” The druid nodded towards the alcove near the back of the room. “The yardmaster’s books. Figures for our yard AND the horde’s, across the valley. The horde want them, as we want their’s. That’s were the others went. And why we stay here. They’ll likely…ouch! What??”

Garl had finally jabbed him with the butt of his gun instead of poking him…”Tracking shows six, coming up the tunnel.”

“Quick, reset your traps if you need to. Then stand in the door.” Garl ran out and laid his trap precisely where the previous one had been, then came back to the small room, starting to go behind the door. “No…right…HERE!” and with that the elf almost bodily picked him up and plopped him smack in the center of the open doorway.

“Bu-but they’ll SEE me!”

“I know. Quiet!”

Garl stood there, one eye on tracking and the other on Spout across the room. He saw, and didn’t see, a shimmer near the yardmaster’s alcove. Blasted Shots! The Horde was almost up the tunnel!

A small figure flashed by him, taking no notice of him, headed towards the alcove. He barely had time for his brain to register the sprinting figure instantly stopping as if he had hit an invisible wall. As his eyes swiveled back to the tunnel, his sight was filled with a huge…something…snorting, swinging, right at him…he ducked…and the tauren was still, transfixed….the figure now at the alcove was also still, not moving…of course! The rogues! Somehow, past the enormous mail armor of the bull, he had a glimpse of Spout tearing at a priest’s flowing robes as Spout’s charge shoved the priest back against a wall.

Two more figures rushed into the light from the dim tunnel…and mere steps from him had already diverted their attention to the two rogues, now in plain sight, whirring and spinning, daggers glinting in a web they spun around their targets. Spout had the priest occupied….there was one more…there! Partway down the tunnel still, outlined in a glow of magic, another priest stood there, his attention centered on the double duel in the room’s center, her brow already glistening. Garl aimed and fired…a healer…if he could get her down, the rogues would make quick work of their opponents. Several shots, and the healer finally turned her attention to Garl, but too late. A final shot and she buckled. He turned towards Spout’s priest, and a few shots dispatched him the the Nether, too.

His legs buckled, a blow across his back sending him to his knees. The pain mushroomed across his shoulders even as he rolled, seeing the huge shaman already coming down for a second blow….and caught a glancing blow as Spout’s body flashed before him, into the shaman, bowling him over. He staggered…no..he leaped! To his feet….he wasn’t hurt!…the druid…he smiled….and grinned straight at the shaman as he slammed shot after shot into his face as a rogue cut into his back, the shaman spinning around between Garl, the rogue and Spout. As the body fell, bloodied and in more than one piece, Garl turned and saw the other rogue, with an exaggerated swipe, practically separate the head of the last from his neck. He had never reached the alcove….

Garl checked his tracking and reloaded shot. He looked around…six horde dead…he, the druid, the two rogues still alive. The stains on the walls and floor made sense now. He flinched a little at the realization that not all of them were from horde.

“Good job, hunter!”, the druid cheered at him. “Thought you were playing bait a little TOO well for a bit, until you got moving!” The rogues grinned at him, wiping their daggers on the robes of the dead. “Think we’ll keep you around, ” one said, ” with those traps!”

Garl didn’t think he had done much…shot up a priest, and a shaman more worried about a rogue than a flustered hunter.

“What’s your name, Hunter?”, asked one of the rogues.

“Ga — Ah’m Oilcan”

The druid spoke up,” I’m Aediwen. These two are Paython and Jehani. Now, come on, hide these bodies….they’ll be back, and we wouldn’t want the Horde to think they’ve no chance, now would we?”
“Regnus asked me to report to Lylandris, the Warsong Battlemaster. He sent me to Warsong to bring back some reports, which I did. The Silverwing Sentinels have a nice tabard, I think. Perhaps a few more errands for him and I’ll get to wear one.”

MMO-Champion has info on the next expansion - Cataclysm

Things that caught my eye….

Human Hunters and Dwarf Shaman……I like hunters obviously, but Delsea, my 40 rogue is my only human toon. And while I loved leveling Gathun, my orc shaman, I couldn’t quite bring myself to create a Draenei shaman, having quested completely through the Myst islands on both Katasta (RIP) and Oilcan.

But a dwarf shaman interests me, even though I’ve been through Anvilmar a dozen times. And beer keg totems FTW….I always found Wildhammer in the Hinterlands interesting…

Worgen (Alliance race)……I’ve been staring at Greymane Wall for 3 years, since OC hit Hillsbrad and saw that monstrous wall, and corresponding empty map space, on his way to SFK. Someone’s getting <DELETED>…..

Old World Zone and Dungeon revamp….I dunno, flying=nice, but there’s something to be said for familiarity. But level 85 Deadmines???…..I am SO there…..

The din of the crowded Auction House in Ironforge barely asserted itself in Garl’s mind, as he intently studied the auction boards. He’d hoped his skills as a leatherworker would be enough to start earning a living of it, but sales for his goods were still slow. But the skins, hides, and leathers he offered as raw goods were consistent sellers. And he knew the other trades needed other raw goods as well. He gently shook his purse; the few coins within were enough to start jingling, but still too few to jangle. Ah well, “Buy low and sell high” worked whether you started large or small.The murmurs swelling in the crowd were therefore unnoticed by him, until the sharp bark of the Ironforge Guards’ orders cut through the barkers’ calls. He was then aware that the crisp, incessant banter of buyers and sellers echoing off the House’s walls had been swallowed by the whispers and questions of those within.

He looked around, past faces at once worried yet unconcerned. He recognized the look as one he had watched passersby assume in Stormwind, as they passed the orphanage on their way to service in the Cathedral.

“Tsk, tsk.”

“Awful. What can you do?”

The guards half-whispered the words they shared, dutifully following orders not to cause a panic, but knowing few here would listen any further than the words:

“Horde at Sentinel Hill.”

* * * * *

His parents half-whispered the words they shared, thinking he was still napping. The knock at the door had awakened him, however, and he breathed lightly as he tried to hear the words outside.

“…Horde…farm…four dead…..here….”

So hard was he listening outside the walls, the steps were almost inside his door before he heard them. He realized his eyes were open, and snapped them tight as his door creaked open.

“Garl? Wake up.”
His mother’s voice was quiet, but tense, not gay and teasing like this morning. He pretended to rouse, not looking at her, the questions in his eyes replaced with

“Ah’m still sleepy…doan’ wanna wake up…”

“Come on, get these on. Hurry. You can go back to sleep soon. You’re going to finish your nap next door. Your father and I have something to do, right now.”

He dressed as slowly as he could, fumbling with laces and ties, hoping for more from his mother, but she merely kissed him and dressed him more quickly than he wanted, and shunted him out of the room. He heard his father in the stables, cursing the rams, as he and his mother crossed the path to the house next door. His mother kissed him again and pushed him over the neighbor’s hearth; he glanced up and saw the anxious look in the eyes of his elderly sitter before she closed the door behind him, and, a moment later, cheerily invited him to finish his nap amongst the giant quilts by the fireplace in the next room.

The shifting fire and subtle warmth of the quilts lulled him back to sleep, to dream of his mother and father standing before a dark mass called Horde that had no face, no other name.

* * * * *

He had quietly and quickly finished his business at the auctions, and slipped out, his gait and breath a little too forced, but no one noticed. He had been to Westfall, of course, and fought the Defias, but why were the Horde there? A mill, a tower, a desolated village, nothing was there would have sent him hordeside for the same. At the Gryphonmaster, some were inbound from, and outbound to, Sentinel Hill. More than a few outbound decided not to, after looking at those inbound.

As the tower came into view from atop the gryphon, he saw a battle south of the hill, the cries and screams reaching him in the air. As he jumped down off the gryphon, several humans almost knocked him back into the air as they fought to get on the very gryphon he had flown in on. He got clear of that scrum, only to nearly get trampled by a mage’s horse as it vaulted over him and headed to the tower. This was chaos; he followed the mage to the crest of a low hill and peered over it into the setting sun and saw…

…more chaos. more running. more yelling.

Not orders being given but just…yelling…and screaming…and running, lots of running. Priests and hunters, warriors and rogues were all in the clearing south of the tower.

The mage glanced at him.

“Best stay clear, boy, until Koy and Stryke dispatch the stupid ones. Orders were to assemble and organize, not wade in, flailing away. Koy and Stryke aren’t troggs, you know.”
Garl nodded. No, they weren’t. They laughed at the ones coming at them in ones and twos, and mowed them down like wheat, then looked for more. The mage was right. Coordination and numbers were needed.
The two horde now stood alone in the clearing, challenging those gathering on the hilltops around them. The numbers were growing, with more and more experienced fighters coming to the aid of the tower guards. Garl saw insignia of rank, of service, on battle-scarred armor, and grim looks on those who wore it as they discussed their attack. No one else but the mage had talked to Garl, though.
“I have a gun, and Spout,” he thought, “When they attack, I’ll follow them.”

Koy and Stryke cut down two more fools. Then, without warning, the mage attacked, blasting them with arcane fire. Hunters around the two horde opened fire, as warriors and rogues rushed them. The clearing in front of Garl shone bright with fire and magic as he fired as fast as he could. Two rogues dropped, screaming, as the Horde fought their way out of the mass, trying to get room for their weapons. They whirled and spun, blades flashing in the dusky light, trying to work their way south and clear of their attackers. Suddenly, they broke clear and ran for the hilltop…straight towards Garl’s position. Too close to fire, Garl drew his axe and leaped at them, hoping to at least slow them down. If they got away, they would be back. Best to kill them now.

Two warriors had already caught one of the Horde, but the other was ahead and clear, swinging straight at Garl as Garl swept his axe through the air. He dodged the blow only partially, but it was still more powerful than any he had ever felt, sending him rolling down the hill ahead of his attacker. As he rolled over to rise, expecting to see a final blow, he saw the Horde struggling to reach him. He had clipped him! And saved his own life. As he rolled, he jumped off to the side, out of his opponent’s direction, trying to draw him back to the others. The Horde decided not to follow as those of the Alliance crested the hill, presumably having sent the other Horde to whatever god he worshipped. At range now, Garl stunned him with a shot as he tried to run off, and the others charged the now-wounded Horde. Even so, several paid dearly for getting within reach of his blade. Overwhelmed, the Horde still fought fiercely, until finally sheer numbers brought him down, literally, to his knees, to his end.

As quickly as it had started, the battle ended. Garl helped tend the wounded, bandaging and salving, before heading back to Ironforge. He had been no match for either Horde, alone, but was glad he had been able to help. He was deep in thought as he climbed aboard the gryphon for the flight home, and so did not notice as the Tower Captain pointed at him while speaking to a corporal.

“I saw my first Horde”, Garl wrote to his parents, “at Sentinel Hill in Westfall. There were only two, and we had plenty of help. Don’t worry, I keep a close watch when I’m out and about; I’m sure they won’t be the last I see. The Tower Captain noticed me, though, and Regnus is training me in a few things that don’t exactly help with the Hunt.”