Agent of the Forsaken. Life on a PvP server. Life’s not over until you’re 60. Life ends at 60 rather often. Enjoy it.
Darkhoof took the night off. No doubt ruminating on some of the grasses of Mulgore, recovering from the blistering he got in Molten Core Wednesday night.
Oddity though, lazy Orc that he is, has been just resting up a storm in the Undercity. Level 38 and some amount of rested xp built up again.
It’s time to hit the pavement Orcy boy. “Lok’tar!”
I make sure my gear is repaired, my bags are empty, I check the mail and grab the stuff that didn’t sell and run it back to the Auction House again.
I’d got an invite to go later to Razorfen Downs but that companion-in-arms had not appeared in the realm yet.
I exit Lordaeron (Thanks, Human Race, for the nice city. Too bad we’ve got it now!) and turn westwards. I don’t know why I decided to run, but I did, and I headed out to the Sepulcher.
On the road I saw some younger characters heading the same way. One had acquired a Worg and the Worg was chewing his butt but good. He might have kept going and the Worg might have lost interest except the Worg had managed to daze him. I got to within charge range and let that Worg have it. I looted the body and saw the Worg’s heart was still collectable. I gave it to it’s intended victim since I know he would shortly have a quest to recover more such hearts. I ran on after he’d thanked me and I’d cheered.
I reached the Sepulcher but then decided that what I wanted to do was clear up some quests in Hillsbrad. “Ganksbad” is what they should call it. Gank Mill and South Gank. I jest. But I also wasn’t running there to PvP. I’ve got 40 to reach, and by gum, I will. Eventually.
First quest on the list was to collect a few more skulls from the pesky humans. The poor Deathguard in Tarren Mill, stuck there guarding the place, had sent me out to do his business. And his business had me collect him 30 skulls. Nice. Agent of the Forsaken is what I am.
I’ve seen leper gnomes. I’ve seen dark dwarves. I’ve seen Undead elves and humans and trolls.
We Orcs were torn from our homeworld of Draenor. We were once noble, we embraced nature and it’s forces. But the Scourge came and corrupted us.
I guess unlike the other races, where pure representatives are still to be found, Orcs are, to a man, woman, and child, corrupted forms of our once noble selves. I’ll be very happy if one day I can return to Draenor and find an Orc cousin who remains untouched by the scourge. Would he be a tusked brute driven to constant warfare? I think not.
But here I am. Product of the scourge. Tusked and with fire in my eyes!
So, Orc Think here: You need 30 skulls? Okee dokee.
And I also had to get some shards from some Forsaken traitors being held by, or in the protection of perhaps, the mages of Dalaran. And I needed to collect some stones off these mages and researchers as well.
Since Dalaran was closer to the Sepulcher than the village of Hillsbrad, that was my first stop.
The prison camp is easy enough to find. The guards are laughably inadequate to keep a warrior such as I out, and one by one the traitors met their end, leaving me with the shards they had sought to turn over to the Dalaran mages. The last of them was guarded by a mage who dropped a journal. It accounted her tests of the shard. It accounted her attempts to establish the material characteristics of the shards. It accounted for about 12 pages more than me, a brute Orc, cared to read. “Ah, maybe somebody cares back in Lordaeron!” Into the bags it went. “Zug Zug!”
I then moved out to the old city of Dalaran. Most of it’s been bubbled, whether it is protected or devastated inside is a question. Outside it’s only ruins with the odd Dalaran researcher wandering around. They carry stones for some purpose and I managed to pry a few from the more than few cold, twitching, fingers.
Now Dalaran is on the “run path” for the Alliance to go to the Scarlet Monastery. The Scarlet Monastery is the questing destination for both sides, from about the mid-30′s to 40 or so. What that mean is every so often I’d spot Alliance, individuals or small groups, running past the place. One such Alliance, a Druid, ran rather close. I checked the level, 34 or so, and figured “Me Orc! Me have business to do!” so I turned my attentions back to the folks of Dalaran.
Now after this Druid had passed a Dwarf rode up on this massive Ram. (Them’s good eatin’!) His level was ??. Karma, remember that? He waved, I waved, and he rode off.
And shortly I had the shards I needed, and the stones too. Next on my list of jobs was to collect 30 Human Skulls.
So I went to Hillsbrad Fields and I played out the neverending battle between Orc and Mankind and it took a while but eventually I had my 30 skulls. (How is it possible that these Hillsbradians don’t all have skulls? What’s up with that? Are they degenerates? What’s holding them together??) While I whittled down the population, and whittled down their successors, I did see a few Alliance scurrying about. Usually at a distance, always moving the other way. Yay! (Ooh. I forget to mention I dinged 39 at Dalaran. Yes, the skulls quest is below my level, but a quest is a quest, I can earn reputation with the Undercity, and sometimes it just feels good to harvest skulls.)
Bags full of stones, shards, and skulls, I made my way to Tarren Mill and turned it all in.
A freind whispers me and asks if I need help in Stranglethorn Vale. You bet, I reply.
So I flew from Tarren Mill back up to the Undercity and then took the Zeppelin down to Grom’gol Base Camp in Stranglethorn Vale. This friend was Onaeveim who has helped me in the past.
Camp Nesingwary’s is a little busier than normal. And while I hunted tigers and raptor and panthers there are more than one or two misunderstandings there between Horde and Alliance.
There was a ?? Rogue wandering the area. At one time I came within a hairsbreadth of me and another killing him. His vanish foiled since I’d put a Rend on him. And there! He lets out a last breath! As I let out mine. No Honor Kill for me. Later he’d find me alone and kill me without too much threat to his neck.
But I do manage to get a good bit of hunting accomplished. Ona joining me at times, other times ranging ahead, or looking for trouble behind. He encounters a Paladin and a Mage and makes a, most likely astute, assumption as to their possible sexual orientation. Further on we run into a hunter, or rather Ona does, and then this ?? Warrior runs into me, and then all hell breaks out. There’s Ona, 60, me, 39, and like 4 Alliance, 2 or 3 ?? to me. “Darkhoof’s got to come!” says Ona. “Okee dokee” says Oddity. Oddity leaves the world in the Spirit form, and Darkhoof comes alive in Orgrimmar (dust, not grass, he’s been munching on it would seem). I, as Darkhoof now, astral recall myself to Kargath and then jump a pridewing down to Grom’gol. Before I land I see that Grom’gol is under attack. Good. Not far to go to find the fight.
There’s Ona, surrounded by 4 Alliance, all level 60′s, some younger ones, the Orc guards are out fighting too, some Horde players as well, and I run in, Frostshock one on him, and then a Flameshock and it dies. I’m rooted and then a 60 Hunter starts firing! I Frostshock! and Frostshock! and come free and knife the little guy to death with my Sorcerous Dagger! Earthfury gear for the win! (Since I’m not at all Elemental specc’d. I’m a healer. Not a fighter.)
It’s raging. Back and forth. I do die twice. But I get 8 HK’s. It’s late and we’ll have to leave soon. But Theido joins us. A guild Druid. And Ona and I change to Ghostwolf form and Theido gets into cat form and we run up the coast. Ooh, I’d hate to run into us. Little Gnome Warlock with pink Princess Leia buns? Left without the means to self-motivate. Night Elf Hunter lady. Remember us? We remember you!
And Ona says “This is what I’m talking about.” Yeah. It was fun. I’m sure it was fun for the Alliance too. We live a little, we kill a little, we die a little. We need to have fun. (And keep company with at least one level 60 friend around.)