Flinthammer Hall

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.

Last night, I ventured into Warsong Gulch for the first time, unsure what to expect. The battle to capture the flag was complete chaos and I loved it! Me blood raced every time we charged a group of horde to defend our flag carrier. I have had moments of me bum being smartly handed to me, but oh, the exhilaration of running towards a group of enemies to further the cause was well worth it. What a much-needed change from me tedious ventures into the Blackrock Mountains or the Plaguelands, which I now know as well as the back of me hand. Warsong Gulch offers what I crave — the element of surprise!

For Khaz Modan!