The battle for the resource nodes in Arathi Basin began last week. I do have to admit that the new battleground gives me renewed energy. Everything is so new and fresh and … dare I say it? Fun! Even losing doesn’t hurt as much because I still get rewarded for the resources gathered regardless of the end result.
Yeah, I think I’ll stick around for a bit and keep up the good fight! Why not?
I look at me journal and see an entry proclaiming me joy with Warsong Gulch. Nearly two months later, I no longer feel that way. Warsong Gulch has gone from a fun sporting event to an apathetic grind for the sake of collecting points and earning new armor.
Where has the thrill gone?
On me way to the griffon flight master, I passed by the throne room and decided to peek in for a second to get a glimpse of King Bronzebeard. He saw me and although he nodded his head in polite recognition, his jaw tightened. I waved and kept moving. When I was a wee lass, people had teased me and Princess Moira for our striking resemblances. Even King Bronzebeard would feign confusion and pretend I was really his daughter and jovially laugh at Moira’s shrieks of protest. I’d also get a wink from him now and then as one of his guards would mistake me for Moira and announce that the princess was approaching. It was nothing more than a merry little game.
Of course, now that Moira’s is screwing the royal lineage with Emperor Dagran Thaurissan’s seed, I wisely keep me distance these days!
A gnome named Cog shipped a batch of deviate fishes, inviting me to partake in his delicacy. Last time I trust a gnome, I tell ye! Me legs became horribly stretched out, me breasts shrank, and me stomach became queasy as I turned into a roguish human!
I figured since I was taller, I’d see how high I could kick up me legs in the air. Instead of doing the fine dwarvish clog stomping that we be renown for, I couldn’t do anything more than wiggle me bum and touch various parts of me arms repeatedly or do a butter-churning motion.
Did I not mention that me breasts shrank?
Ay yi yi.
“Selling four lesser bloodstone ores for one gold!”
“What? That’s too much money!”
“You’re ripping off the poor people!”
“I need the ore, but I am not paying for that!”
“Why, I can get that cheaper in the auction house over in Ironforge!”
“No way that’s worth a gold. That took you, what, thirty minutes to get?”
Who committed the greater offense here? A seller putting a price on his labor or the people loudly griping? If ye don’t like the price, don’t buy it. Before lamenting upon the woefulness of it all, have some consideration for those within earshot and take the soapbox elsewhere. Nobody likes a bully.