HBnBM, Streaming, Editorials, My Life on the Internet. Upvote and read plz!

I've been quite busy, and safe to say it's doing what it is that I love: being an absolute grump on games and reporting about it.

I've recently been working on my Twitch.tv channel, playing games I love and interacting with people all for the sake of entertainment, much in the way I've written on here. I joined a site called Headbang 'n Buttonmash, an editorial, news, and review site that focuses on heavy metal music and video games, and while I don't really listen to metal (really, not at all), I know games. The crew there is astounding, and I've loved every moment of working with them. I stream on their Twitch channel on Mondays at 9PM EST, if you ever want to check me out at a regular time.

I recently became an editorial writer for them, and I was wondering, the so few of you who still follow this blog, could you upvote me on reddit and read the article on hbnbm.com? That'd be super. Super duper.

I intent to do a full overhaul on this site, integrating more RPGs into it. My focus has broadened, but I still very much play WoW and will do so through Warlords of Draenor.

I am very much still Oathbreaker of Silvermoon. I am the Loremaster and the Right Hand of Gul'dan. My name is Ian. Hi. You look good. Let's talk.

Charity Stream! Twitch.tv!

Well, it's been a while. I don't know how many of your poor bastards are still reading this over and over again, or waiting pathetically with bated breath for an update. I'll play WoW. Sometime. Maybe. Let's say after the next expansion launches. In the meantime, I wanted to let those of you who know or knew me as Oath the Warlock that I'm now, more or less, still a Warlock, but mostly just a Gamer.

I've recently joined the Twitch.tv community, and unless you live under a rock, it's a site dedicated to live steaming video with an interactive chat where you can talk in real time with silly bastards who play video games -- like me! :D

Check me out at Twitch.tv/OathD2C daily, hit the follow there, and if I'm not on and my stream is offline, wait patiently in the dark room you keep your computer in and stare intently at the screen in anticipation of digital glee. Squee. I like "squee" better. Digital squee. Yeah. That's good.

In particular, I'll be on Monday, November 18th, 2013, at 2PM EST (UTC -5:00) streaming for charity to help raise relief funds for Typhoon Haiyan. The link is on my Twitch, but it's also in the pretty pic I made poorly in about 6 minutes right above this text block. Just click it, and you can donate immediately! It benefits the USA fund for UNICEF, and all the proceeds are used to help kids in the Visaya Islands. Fun fact: I'm Filipino American, first generation, and my mom's province was one of the ones hit. Family's okay, but that doesn't mean everyone else is. Help out, check out the stream, and support those who need it! Thanks everyone! :D

Rogue v. Road

A real article. You should be pleased. I quite am.

I recently was working on gearing up the warlock for future bloodbaths, random BGing with Mordy, doing dailies as we waited. AB pops, and we both moan with delight. Nothing better than sitting on BS and letting the honor trickle into our mouths, harassing the Alliance at LM because they dig their wood, or taking Stablés (not a typo, say it like that, it's fun) because no one is there EVER and horsies are cool (I tend to yell "HORSIES" when I head there; I am very excited for horsies always). We play with the nodes a bit, things aren't working out, so I retreat back to farm to just chill. I start seeing the usual banter from the angermonkeys in chat:

"You guys suck."

"Horde always loses."

"Why are you guys so bad."

[DISCLAIMER: Those last three quotes, in reality, more than likely lacked punctuation, proper grammar, and spelling. Please use any level of imagination to make those seem more retarded in order to help in believability. Thanks! ~MGMT]

Who's saying that? Oh, a rogue. Right. Let me check where you are. On the fork between BS, LM, and Farm. Fighting three or four Alli. Uh huh. We're so bad. Noted. So since I'm only mildly contributing by defending Farm, I get to what I'm good at. Showing you your Stupid (Your actual possessive stupid. The stupid you own. I know you want that apostrophe. You ain't getting it, it's something that you own, that you care for, and foster every time you get on that Alt rogue. If it's not an Alt, dear God, help us all).

I'm usually the instance leader. I don't know why, maybe the game knows I'm me and I require it.

No one caught that cast. It's cool. I'll keep trolling the waters. Fishing takes patience. I've got lots of patience.

Krenlyn of Quel'dorei got that call for Mine. That's why she's illin'. I'd be illin' too if people listened to me.

Still trolling. It works out that cast, because someone finally says something.

DING DING DING! WE HAVE A WINNER FOLKS. Nigh on eight years and you have the nerve to tell me that it's DPS, not actually winning, that wins BGs? Let's do this, knifelicker.

What people fail to understand is the simple subtleties of rhetoric, the implications of evocative speech, and the woven meaning behind such spartan sarcasm. I'm not mad. I have a blog.

Farmer Yoon be trippin' on my AB skillz. I should get Tillers rep for this.

OMG. BRILLIANT IDEA. They should put an escort quest in AB. Node to node. Horde would win. Hands. Down.

What also tickles me is that I keep saying this shit all BG and no one gets off the roads. We are losing. FUCKING LOSING and no one stops the senseless murder and gets on a fucking flag. I've missed you, WoW, so hard. So fucking hard. Please, give me more.

The rogues and the DKs are so busy that they really can't be bothered with a response. I'm just pointing out that our victory rests solely on their shoulders, and I'm fairly certain, by their lack of response and their heavy attempts at keeping the roads clear, that they understand this and agree with me.

I don't think anyone, at this point, wants to listen to me, because we lose Mines right after I said this.

It's okay, Sandreh, you tried. You really, really tried. Perhaps one day your deeps will count. For now, delete your account. You're useless. Get outta me. We are done.

I AM OATHBREAKER OF DRESSEDTOCUDDLE.COM, DERPOGUE. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

You're the reason I came back.

Ladies and gentlemen, My name is Oath. This is my blog. I write it with Alliance blood. Thank you for reading.

Said I'd Be Back...

Okay, consider that last one a lie. I'M A BIG DAMN LIAR. That's kind of okay though, because I've been busy with stupid IRL crap and now I can really focus on the most important thing in life: LVLZ, OMG. So I have hopes. Dreams. Aspirations. A credit card. And I'm about to get Guild Wars 2. The anticipation for this game has been mounting, and I'm bandwagoning so hard that I think I might even attempt to drive this sonofabitch for PvP. Yeah, when MOP comes out, I'll be there, being the big dick raider that I never was and getting my blood-letting kicks in GW2, so it'll be a simultaneous concoction of rum and vodka (which, in my book, both suck, because the gaming industry has yet to make my whiskey or scotch. EAT MY ANALOGIES). Where have I been since March? Day Z. Yeah, that's right, you might see me running around with the handle "[D2C] Oath" or just simply as "Ian," probably running full clip through Cherno or Elektro. Won't see me at any airfield without a buddy. Definitely shooting you up in a forest. Definitely on the other end of your hacking pistol. Douche. Though I have been recently fed up with all the alpha turds wiggin' code at me just to get their high-and-mighty jollies off. APB Reloaded. I got sucked into the frustration of this pay2win MMO (, more like MDSF, Massive Dick Swordfight). Playing with the people who populate those servers is like going back to second grade and trying to sling rhetoric. COMPLETELY lost on all of them, and hence you have to get down on their level, saying Timmy's a dookiehead, and now you're just another retard like them. More time wasted. Skyrim. Fuck. Drinking. This is coming from some angry stupor right now. What's up reality?! There's my rock glass. GOODBYE RELAITY. LAWL. WoW. I literally check in to make sure I'm still guild leader. ROFL. Sorry, seriously, I'll be really super back at expansion, though expect a lot of GW2 posts soon, maybe even a reawakening of my youtube channel. For now, I'm going to shake the dust off my MasterCard and make a poor decision. I'll talk to you guys soon. Hopefully. Probably not.

Back In Purple

I'm going to start off defensive.

I don't have to explain to you where I've been. All that matters is that I've been places, seen things, began drinking more frequently again, and recently took up playing WoW after an extended sabbatical.

I tried my DAMNEST to find something that wasn't as monotonous, repetitive, superfluous, and all together unsatisfying as WoW had been since the middle of Wrath.

So I tried Rift.



It's basically WoW, only slightly more button-mashy and pretty, and shit hits the fan every five fucking minutes. Here I am, doing quests for a harbor, trying to gather you assholes fish, then you tell me "DROP EVERYTHING, YOU ERRAND-RUNNING FUCK, AND DEAL WITH THE TENTACLE FUCKING IN THE FIELD OVER THERE" because your priorities are messed the shit up. No.

I thought, "I like comic books, more than the average comic book loving man, let's try DCU."



As soon as you start flying, just like City of Heroes, it kind of loses its steam. Though in that comparison, City of Heroes makes you work for your travel skill; DC Universe just gives it to you. So you know what? Steam, lost, 5 minutes. NEXT.



Oh EVE. The space cowboy in me will always have a soft spot for you. It was on Steam a while back for only $5 with a month free, so how could I say no? If it wasn't for the ridiculous rotisserie oven gameplay (set it and forget it, if you didn't catch the late night infomercial reference), then it'd be mildly fun. Waking up violently from your keyboard, accidentally raking up buttons off the spring mounts with your teeth, finding that, yeah, you've trained up Minmatar Frigates to level 4, but you're in a fucking egg, isn't exactly how I want to enjoy my MMO. Let's hit warp to something else.



Who doesn't like Star Wars? Aside from elitest Trekkies, lemme ask again: WHO DOESN'T THINK STAR WARS IS THE MOTHERFUCKING AWESOME SHIT?! I was excited just as anybody else that Star Wars Galaxies was getting the poopchute and The Old Republic was going to be my air-thrusting MMO fix for a long while.

WHO ELSE WAS DISAPPOINTED?

I played with all of my little Sith soul, but there was no drive in all of Palpatine's creation to make me want to keep going with this single-player MMO. You know what? It's not even an MMO. It's KOTR with other people complaining in a box on the bottom left. I didn't once need to group up with someone because WoW taught me that I can usually do shit on my own. 'Lo and fucking behold, that sort of tenacity and personal perseverance stemmed towards not having to ask for any goddamned help from any goddamned nunces. I'm not paying $15 to show off my gear that everyone else has and talk about a story that everyone else already knows. Outtie.

Severely disappointed, completely burnt out, still needing my MMO fix, I start watching the Youtubes for something inspiring. Leave it to the Pandaria coverage to make me start having problems.

Monks are overrated. I'm going to make one, but I probably won't play it passed the starting zone. I already have a rogue. *smugface*

What I did start thinking about was all the things I haven't done. I've never played Alliance passed level 20 (the thought makes me vom a little, no lie, but to properly defeat your enemy, you have to know them, I guess). I should start a new Warlock to see the changes as he or she grows up. I've never killed the Lich King (don't judge me).

So it starts. Azeroth, my 7 year old friend, I'm coming home.

Broken CPU Pin? I FIXED IT.

So I ordered new RAM for my desktop. To install it, I had to remove my huge CPU heatsink. I own a Zalman CNPS10X 120mm, which, for any PC building enthusiasts out there, is a moderately sized heatsink. For laymen, it’s huge. It looks like a metal brick in the corner of my PC box. It’s a bit of a chore to take it out, but an upgrade is an upgrade, and it had to be done.

For an AMD CPU mount, specifically an AM3 socket, there’s a black frame around the socket itself on the motherboard. The bracket that attaches the heatsink to the motherboard is just a band of steel that uses resistance to stay on, with two loops at either end of the black frame as hooks. I popped this off and pulled the heatsink off, and the CPU chip came with it. Oh snap, not good.

The thermal paste was so stuck on that it had yanked the chip from the socket. I panicked a bit, and carefully pried the CPU from the heatsink, gray glue all over my fingers. I took a look at the CPU and it seemed fine, so I put my new RAM in, replaced the CPU, heatsink, wires, and turned it on.

Didn’t post. My heart started to race.

I unplugged everything, took off the heatsink, took out the RAM, and examined all the hardware. Everything seemed fine, and I started to do RAM musical chairs to see if I had gotten some bad sticks. It didn’t seem to be that, and then my heart sank at the notion that meandered across my mind. The CPU.

I have an AM3 Phenom II 965 Quad-core processor; at the time that I bought it, it was over $200. It’s honestly a really good processor and has never given me any trouble, but right there and then, I pretty much just gut-punched it by accident.

I took off the heatsink and looked at the processor. There was a bent pin. NOOOOOOOO.

I tell myself, “I can fix it, just a bent pin. No biggie.”

I took some eyeglass screwdrivers and started fiddling with it, pushing it carefully here and there, and then my hand slipped and the pin snapped.

I broke the most miniscule little bit of metal off the most important piece of hardware in a computer. I died.

I stared at the CPU, my hands against the sides of my head. It took my five minutes to muster up the mental faculties to even think.

I suddenly had a stroke of inspiration. I went to a closet in my house and found an old VGA cable. I yanked out a pin from it with some needle-nose pliers. I counted the pins on the CPU chip to the vacant spot where the pin was. Then I counted the pinholes in the motherboard to the exact location of the essential pin. I shoved the VGA pin into that pinhole, carefully replaced the CPU, heatsink, wires, and turned it on.

POSTED.

I am PRO. :D

I honestly can say I didn’t think it’d work.

EDIT:

I JUST found this. Apparently, Linus had the same EXACT thing happen and he made a video of it. Pretend he's a blood elf and you've basically got my situation. :P

YouTube Video, GO: 4.2! Part 1

O: Check out parts 2, 3, and so on and so forth as they come out on my YouTube Page!

Like I said, best thing about 4.2

Look at Old Crap, Become a Professor

Hey, guess what.



After the long and arduous grind of sifting through old bullshit people left behind, I've acquired what most haven't: the certified ability to teach at a post-secondary institution.

Here's my rap sheet for the blues and purps:



Sad thing, probably only three of those are gonna see the light of day. Oh well. At least I got my title, which I'm retiring Loremaster for. I figure, in a more applicable sense, all that I've been through to get the Loremaster title, I can now say I teach it.

Get your felt-tip pens ready, ladies. You gonna be writing "love you" on your eyelids for this warlock. Got the D.A.D.A. position at Dalaran University.

Stupid People: Fartzapper

'Sup.

Been a while since I've dicked around with people, and since I've been playing with Äsclepius more, I've REALLY dicked around more than usual. For those of you who aren't privvy first hand, Äsclepius trolls you. That said, allow me to lay the scene.

I'm tanking on One, waiting for 'Pius (pronounced "Pious," but I say "Peeus") to show up, so I decided to level via insta-queue, catch up a bit because he was ahead in the bars. At 83 and 84, you've got two choices for instances: Bonercore or Vortex Testicle. I get Testicle, and it's already up to Puff, the Magic Dragon. Brilliant.

I'm with a Mage, a Priest, a DK, and Fartzapper, an Elemental Shaman, who, at the time of writing this and seeing his armory, has six items that give Agility, two items that give Strength, and an Intellect headpiece that has an Attack Power and Resilience enchant.



Mm. This is already awesome.

We down Puff, surf the jetstream, and I start marking. I take a gander at recount as markers go up. Farts is pulling about 1200 DPS. I quietly give him the benefit of the doubt.

Mage gets Moon, Shaman gets Panties; I don't really trust some pug Priest healer that isn't 'Pius to MC the Adept. I announce in party what each marker means. CC pulls, I pull off, but Panties is still walking around. The Minister of Air is annoying. He's got a green thong on his head and he's lobbing electricity like he's Tesla for a good five seconds before the priest, who wasn't told what to do, who is also healing, MC's the Minister and tosses him off the side for relief. The Elemental shaman is meleeing. I get a whisper from the mage before the next pull.



I promise that Rift article is coming. Anyway, after I reassign duties properly and everyone BUT the shaman rolls like a pro, I engage in a bit of conversation.



Hey, you never know. I'm not gonna call someone bad if they're just distracted. And if they're constantly distracted, like Repello always is, then yeah, I'm gonna call him or her a baddie. Kids, don't be a Repello.

Farties replies.



My issue? Buddy, you are my issue. I will not suffer a lazy toddler. Carry you? Fuck your mother.

Stars are up next, know what he does to try and make up for shit DPS? Earth Elemental Totem, GO!



I don't understand. HELP ME UNDERSTAND YOU. No? K, next pull. No Hex, I'm not gonna ask you to look through your spell book. Not gonna educate you on how to play your class. Not my job. I am curious though. After a pull, noticing that myself, the DK, the Mage, and even the Priest show up on the recount, I inquire further.



Kinda understood what you said. Not really.



"Let's just go"?! Peanut gallery's restless. Seriously, have we gotten to this? I'd have thought, with the advent of the new expansion, we'd have gotten back to humbler roots; I was under the assumption that the somewhat-harder-than-Lich-King content would do away with the loosely supported arrogance. Here's Farts though, proving my assumptions wrong, talking big without even a foot to stand on.

So we kill the last group of stars and I give it a shot.



Apparently the group isn't with me. You uninvolved prats. Thanks for making me lose more faith in humanity. Asaad goes down easy; the shaman even knows to get in the triangle, which tells me he's done this before and has been carried quite often. He proceeds to be a fully-realized fucktard.



Captured Lightning, by conventional standards, is a healing trinket. Pretty sure he doesn’t need Billowing Cape, unless I missed something in Caster 101. I query his intentions.



Perhaps now, since the instance is over, I'll get a fairly straight forward, reasonable answer.



Lemme fix that for you. What you should have said was, "I LIKE BLUE, IT'S MY FAVORITE COLOR." I would have accepted that, thanked you for your time, and wished you luck in all your endeavors, both in game and IRL, as it's so very difficult for those who are headfucked by a serrated dildo to fit in with normal society.



I know, I know. I could have laid into the guy. Could have left him writhing in agony; could have left him cut with a scathing remark or some witty repartee to turn his teeth inside out and make him wish he really was playing Rift (God help him). But no. Went with the poke and bolted. I could tell, deep down, that dry puss was feverishly banging at the keyboard, raging like the anonymity doth allow him, and I honestly just wanted to ding, so getting out of there was priority number one for me.

In any case, I want you out there, my few and loyal readers, to pay him a visit on his fair Darrowmere. Ask him, sincerely, what the flying urethra fuck is he doing with Strength gear. Ask him nicely though. Then tell him to check out DressedtoCuddle.com. :)

Seriously, the Only 4.2 Change I'm Looking Forward To:

Finally.

4.2 Needs to Piss People Off

Gonna be honest here, I think the game maaay be peaking. Or at least getting really close. I'm seeing less guildies signing up for raids, hell, less guildies signing on at all; there was a tumbleweed rolling back and forth in the AH today, and most people I've asked to go to ZA and ZG with me just went, "eh." I pugged Stonecore the other day and I heard crickets, fucking CRICKETS CHURPING when Slabhide was supposed to appear. THE BOSS WAS SCRIPTED TO APPEAR AND HE WASN'T EVEN THERE. Probably playing Rift or something on Steam.

I've seen it written about on other sites already through the years. Everything that takes commitment to enjoy peaks, as will WoW one day. So, Blizz, this modest Warlock implores you, in the upcoming patch:



That's right. I fucking said it. Kill him. Kill him really super hard. From a very objective and confident standpoint, I hope he dies and never comes back. I hope his voice is silent in the annals of Warcraft lore, I hope he will still be decomposing a year from now, and I hope we never fucking see him alive again.

Now why the hell would I want something like that? He was my Warchief for years. YEARS. I fought, bled, and died for him on a regular basis. I still fight for him now in hopes that he'll slap the shit our of Garrosh and take his rightful place as leader of the Horde, or make Saurfang Warchief (dear Lord, please). He has been an unwaivering hero through the toughest times Azeroth has ever faced, and despite all the hardships he's been through, he's shown such esteemed valor, strength, and fortitude. He has lead as an example to all, and for fuck's sake, do I want him to die so bad.

I'm going to comic-book nerd it up now. Just so you're prepared. Remember when Superman died? Obviously someone like him, as iconic as he is, could never die. But he did, and it was good. Then he came back AND THE STATUS QUO WAS REESTABLISHED. Captain America was shot after Civil War. Did he stay dead? NO, BECAUSE OF SOME DEUS EX SHIT. Uhh, he's actually been transported through space and time BULLSHIT. Fucking dick writers. Oh, and Batman in Final Crisis? Darkseid lasers him DEAD. Does he stay dead? NO, ASSHOLE TRAVELS THROUGH TIME AND OPENS A COMPANY WHERE HE MAKES AN ARMY OF PISSED OFF ORPHANS. Well, not really, but yeah. Didn't stay dead.

Point is, when a hero, who is part of an epic story, dies, he or she is capable of coming back because the universe is so big that anything is possible.

No.

Fucking. No.

Here it is, Blizz. This is your one shot. Shock the gaming world AND MAKE THE FUCKING DEAD STAY DEAD. Aerith Gainsborough this shit with a Masamune. Seriously. Too many times have we faced evil and overcame it. Every challenge you've pitted against us, we've not only conquered, but destroyed. There have been numerous, seemingly ridiculous attempts at decimating the shit out of Azeroth, and have we saved it every time? Yeah, we have, and even in one expansion, pretty effortlessly. There comes a time when we need to make a mistake, when we need to learn; there needs to be a moment when we fall so hard that it does nothing but place pain, anguish, and suffering so deeply in our hearts that we have no better respite than to FUCKING FIGHT THAT MUCH HARDER.

I want his memory to lead as an example. I want him to be regarded by both Horde and Alliance as a fighter for all that is good and just in our world. I want us to stop finding a crutch to tangibly fight behind and just believe in ourselves.

Thrall needs to die and stay dead. Our universe has never known defeat or failure against pure evil. It's time to lose so that we can take a step back, humble ourselves, then keep moving forward.

Maybe his death (and his keeping to the whole dead thing, not coming back, and really being super dead) will create what Blizzard needs to keep the franchise going, rather than monthly panderings and hotfix rollercoasters.

We don't need a new system of finding guilds, tracking NPCs, or modifications to talent trees. We need to start worrying. We need to get piss.

Blizz, I want you to kick me square in the nuts. Kill him and never let him come back.

Warlock Pet Genders, huh?

Zarhym better be fucking pandering. You kidding me? I don't want to see an Imp with boobs, I don't want to have a bondage Incubus following me around, I don't want to see my Big Blue with two C-Cup Blues vaporiously floating in front of her, I don't want to EVER see a female Doomguard, and there can't be seriously genders for an Infernal or a Felhound.

A girl Felguard, that's fine by me, BUT THAT'S WHERE I DRAW THE FUCKING LINE.

Like a Week-old Baguette

Only I'm not so French, mon ami.

So you're probably thinking, "Seriously, Oath, what the flying fucking shit. You've made promises and said things and done things and...no, you know what, fuck it, I hate you. I hate you right here, deep in the cockles. So much. So fucking much. WHERE'VE YOU BEEN, ASSHOLE?! You were funny, and entertaining, maybe even so slightly informative, but to get right down to it, we're sick and fucking tired of you not writing!"

Now, if you're not thinking that, thanks for being slightly considerate! I will not make any elaborate excuses as to my whereabouts, nor will I attempt to promise anything in terms of writing topics or dates from here on out.

I will say simply, as to the nature of my absence, that I've been busy. That said, I want to share a fairly general philosophy I carry with me and try to apply to most of what I do: there is a distinct difference to finding time for something and making time for something.

I will make time. That, I can promise.

Also, I have a YouTube account now! Yeah, now you'll be getting Fraps videos of me playing not only WoW, but a plethora of other games! Hopefully it'll urge more in the way of writing, but like I said, no promises on that. Articles will come when they do.

So check out D2C@youtube.com for all my digital exploits!

Thanks for checking in, if you do, and I hope to fulfill your future cuddling needs.

PS. Wartenx, get back to me. Your free shit is collecting dust.

I call her "Proud Mary"

Thanks Gobbies. I dig your neat toys so far. :)

Bilgewater Cartel? We're Totally Bros.

EXCITE TRIKE.

The end is so very effing nigh

The ground beneath them rumbles, and each one takes their respective places to prepare for the changes that have been foretold.

Cartwright, a strong-willed and aspiring shaman, stands upon the threshold of Orgrimmar. Much change has come in the last few days to his people and the Horde; Cartwright learned of Thrall’s self-bestowed quest to face the elemental threat, leaving Garrosh Hellscream in charge. Cartwright had never been fond of the son of Grommash, and despite all attempts to enlist with the Earthen Ring, the young shaman was denied, as he lacked the formidable aptitude to join. He knows the time has come to make his choice: enter these gates and relinquish his freedom to the tyrant-to-be, or leave, never to return, seeking his purpose elsewhere and at his own volition, gaining what he can of what's left of the shattering world beneath his feet as he prepares to join the Earthen Ring. Cartwright stands at the gates, feeling the earth quake beneath him.

Qi, the taciturn assassin, sits on a step of a short flight of stairs down Murder Row of Silvermoon. With a sharpening stone, she works at the blade of a dagger. There’s a nick, where an Alliance sword had met her parry. She runs the stone across the forged steel, methodically and with great care. A tremble from the ground beneath her causes her hand to go astray, pushing hard against the grain. The blade nearly snaps, but she’s quick to move her hand just in time to avoid causing undue pressure upon the metal. The point digs into her wrist with her movement, and as blood runs down the hilt, Qi neither howls nor panics, but calmly lifts the blade out and sheaths it. She quickly bandages the wound. Later, she thinks to herself, she could find a dummy to practice on, maybe recuperate through fighting. She looks to her side at the sheath with the nicked dagger. The blade is flawed, which she’d have to live with, as blades do come and go. It’ll serve her well enough in her next fight with the Alliance, thinking of her battles to come in Tol Barad. The stories of the place came across the seas and lands, and her appetite for a good fight will be sated. She looks to her other dagger, sheathed, and pulls it from its holding. Blood covers it from point to hilt. While the other had the nick, this one met its mark. She wouldn’t clean it, she thought. If one isn’t perfect, best to leave the other as it is.

Oneironaut, paladin of the Light, paces back and forth in Farstriders’ Square. He has lived a life full of purpose and camaraderie, helping and serving any wherever he was needed. Now, feeling change in the air, he cannot fathom a rightful place for himself. What is he to do, now that his brothers and sisters in arms have taken to their own adventures? Only recently has he returned to Warsong Gulch to reclaim the ground he lost so long ago, and even that, as satisfying as battle can be, is still not the same as it once was when he was new to the world. His armor, mismatched in style and purpose, tells of past exploits and adventures of which he holds a great fondness for. Now, as the ground shakes, cracks spider-webbing across the fine buildings and stonework floor, he takes a knee. The time will come when he will be needed once more by his friends. For now, he prays.

Wash, executive-underboss-assistant-manager-in-training to the esteemed and highly respected (only at face value, of course) Trade Prince Gallywix, dances the night away. His shuffle is legendary among the goblins of Kezan, and at his party, celebrating nothing in particular, he shows his party goers what this groove is all about. The ground trembles beneath his feet, and for a brief moment, each goblin in attendance pauses to collect themselves. Far in the distance, a massive explosion is heard; running outside, goblins set their gaze on the not-so-dormant Mount Kajaro. Lava spews from its maw, the ground shakes and buildings begin to collapse. Sirens can be heard across the island, as can Gallywix’s voice. He demands money in return for a safe passage off the island. Wash debates his options: go to a bank and withdraw everything, closing all accounts and cashing in all his stocks; get a gun and start robbing houses and other goblins, then head to the bank and rob that; or start swimming. The lava has reached his home and has begun to burn the foundation, and Wash knows, at that very moment, the fun of the next few moments depends on how much he could steal.

Oathbreaker, Loremaster and well-rounded brigand, screams in the face of an already dead corpse. Since his exile from Orgrimmar for accidentally burning down the Auction House, he took to the wilderness and found a knack in killing off small Alliance settlements for fun. The citizens of Southshore never knew such terror and few understood what pain truly felt like until the warlock visited that morning. Magistrate Maleb’s left leg is missing, and all he can do, as he tries dragging his battered husk with one functional arm across the splintered wood of the burning town hall, is look on as Oathbreaker demands a dead guard the whereabouts of a competent tailor to fix the seam of his robe, which he calls a “man dress.” The ground trembles violently, and a timber beam falls on Maleb, killing him instantly. Oathbreaker’s attention turns to a tremendous noise outside of the town hall. Dropping the dead guard, he runs outside, bearing witness to a tidal wave bigger than Black Temple itself. He summons a Demon Portal down, hoping that wherever he may be once the wave hits, he could just poof back to safety. He begins to cackle uncontrollably at nothing in particular. He stands at the end of everything, hoping that the water, devastating as it appears to be, is at least relatively warm.

Remembering the Fallen

First off, my apologies for being absent for so long, I never wanted to take this much time off from something I love and care about, but real life sometimes gets in the way. Expect things in the future, and Wartenx, I got you bro, I’ll talk with you this weekend. On to the post.

Today is Veterans’ Day here in America; it’s a day in which all US citizens take the time to remember the military veterans who have served the United States. There used to be importance for this day, but I still see people working and going about their daily lives. Several of my students didn’t know what the day was intended for. It’s sad to think that a day rooted in the ideals and beliefs of our country could be met with such ignorance, even such disdain.

World of Warcraft has the Harvest Festival, celebrated very briefly for a week in late September, and the idea behind it is just the same: remember the fallen. In that week, players can honor the spirits of soldiers past who wander the gates outside their major city, either Orgrimmar or Ironforge, for their respective faction. There is also a brief quest, in which the Horde honors Grom Hellscream in Ashenvale and the Alliance honors Uther the Lightbringer in Western Plaguelands, placing an offering at either’s monument. I recall a year or two ago when a few of my friends had done the quest, but complained severely that there wasn’t an achievement.

IRL or in Azeroth, our soldiers serve, but tend to be forgotten or unappreciated.

Growing up, my Uncle Terry has always been a close relative and a father figure. He reminds me of Bo Duke, with his southern drawl and charm. I used to watch John Wayne movies in the den with him and the rest of the family. His son and daughter have been my surrogate brother and sister since diapers (I’m an only child). I always knew my uncle had served, though I was never privy to what extent and under what circumstances. He was a marine assigned to a particular battleship during Vietnam, and as far as any of us were concerned, he had a good ol’ time just smoking and drinking, and then he came home. It wasn’t until I started working with veterans at an assisted living facility a couple years ago that I understood.

Uncle Terry and my aunt came down that summer, wanting to see what we were up to. He came by the ALF to see me work, not realizing there were veterans. He started making conversation, quietly at first, asking tiny questions. “What was your rank?” “Army? Navy?” “Did you know this guy in this platoon?” At first, I didn’t think anything of it, just military guys talking military. A few times Uncle Terry had to go out and smoke, which usually never took more than three minutes, but while he was at the ALF with me, he took fifteen minute breaks. I would check on him and see a few of his Marlboro butts by his feet. The end of the day, he got to talking with the VA benefits rep, and came to find they both had served as marines during the same tour, just stationed down the river from each other in Vietnam. As they were talking, I found that, in retrospect, it was the hardest conversation I have ever stood witness to.

My Uncle Terry sleeps an average of five hours every night, and has done so ever since I’ve known him. I never knew it was because his company was under fire, and the sound of bullets in the brush kept him up at night. I didn’t know he heard things, conversations down the hall or his name being called out by voices that don’t exist anymore. He avoided certain smells, scents that triggered memories that would excuse him from dinner tables and get-togethers so he could go into another room to collect himself. I never knew he would catch himself staring off into the distance, forgetting his task at hand. I had no idea he served three tours, one of which so his brother wouldn’t have to.

When the day was over and we went home, I talked with my uncle; I told him that I loved him, but I also told him thank you.

Whether you know it or not, hell, whether you care or you don’t, you have your liberties because of our soldiers. The ideals, beliefs, and intentions behind war are moot, for on this day we honor the selfless and the heroes. The reasons do not matter, only the action. If you observe Veterans’ Day, Remembrance Day, or Armistice Day in your respective country and you happen upon a former soldier, tell them thank you. You don’t have to believe in a damn thing or advocate why we fight, but be gracious to those who have fought for you and for all of us.

To anyone who has served or is serving in the military, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I am by no means a patriot, nor do I believe in everything my government does, but because of you, I love my country. Thank you.

Brief Update, New Layout, Whatchoo Think?

Hi. Sorry. I'm back. I promise I won't do that again. Where have I been? Psshh, protecting our rights and our freedom, you ungrateful sonsofbitches.

Okay, not really.

In terms of the last contest, Oath vs. Fangore, I think it goes without saying that Wartenx of Burning Legion won, problem is, there is no Wartenx of Burning Legion. You transfer servers there, buddy? Let me know, I'll hang on to your card and the pet.

New layout. You like? I'm missing some widgets on the side. I'll add them later.

Next post is a big one. All about PvP.

See you at home, honey.

INC New Stuff

Promise.