My Hearthstone is one of those things (like orange fire and perennial warlock nerfs) that I’ve always more or less taken for granted. It’s not much to look at, after all: just a little white pebble with inscrutable blue markings — easily the least impressive of the many trinkets in my backpack. Compared to a shrunken head, a sextant and this gaudy little piece I picked up in Black Temple one night but have never bothered to use, my Hearthstone is downright boring.

Sure, it’s nice to have. Certainly convenient, in that it can teleport me — once every 60 minutes — to the Scryer’s Inn in Shattrath City … which, come to think of it, doesn’t actually have a fireplace, let alone a hearth.  (Home is where the hearth is, right?)

I suppose in that regard, it’s like a portable pet mage that doesn’t talk.

Hearthstone > Mage, check.

But, I digress. My point was that I had never given much thought to how my Hearthstone actually worked. Chalk it off to intellectual incuriousity (purple pigtails notwithstanding, I am not a gnome), but the fact that it did work was enough for me.

Until it didn’t.

I was attempting to hearth from the Scarlet Monastary to Shattrath City the other night when I heard a large *CRRRRACK*. (I blame the Worg Pup. He’s been teething lately, and chewing on everything he can get his little black paws on.)

My Hearthstone shattered into a hundred tiny, rocky pieces …

… and I ended up suspended in the middle of some starry nowhere, which my innate sense of direction (and the world map) informed me was over the ocean west of Desolace.  Just south of the turtle.

I’m not going to lie: I was a little scared.

Fortunately, I had been out and about with guildmembers — saving my old hometown of Brill from the Headless Horseman and getting ridiculously sick on tricky treats in the process — who quickly realized that I was no longer with them.  After having a nice long laugh at my expense (sigh), they arranged for another warlock to summon me back to Shattrath, where I promptly traded my old, broken Hearthstone in for a shiny new one.

Still, I think I’ll be flying for a while.  After I check my Reins of the Violet Netherdrake for toothmarks, that is.


I was rereading my last post for the hundredth time (I can’t help it! I’m OCD like that!) when it suddenly occurred to me to wonder:

Is it:

(a) a holy paladin
(b) a holy Paladin
(c) a Holy paladin
(d) a Holy Paladin

I initially used (c) in my last post, but quickly edited it to (a) when I realized I wasn’t being consistent. Why should the “H” in Holy be capitalized when the “P” in paladin isn’t, especially since holy is the adjective and paladin is the (potentially proper) noun? Besides, I’d previously referred to a prot warrior, not a Prot Warrior or even a Prot warrior, so if the warrior (Warrior?) wasn’t worthy of capitalization, why should the Power Ranger paladin be any different?

Also, I just misspelled (and thankfully caught) occurred. Does WordPress seriously not have spellcheck? Maybe a move back to Blogger is in order.


I took my baby resto shaman to Karazhan for the first time last night, with an oddly composed group: half undergeared alts and half T6 raiders, with a T4 druid tanking, a T6 druid DPSing and a newly-70 prot warrior … well, not really tanking or DPSing, but wacking on stuff and picking up plate drops that no one else wanted.

I healed. Or, rather, I dropped totems, popped Bloodlust and tossed around some chain heals that weren’t really needed since our T6-geared holy paladin could easily have solo-healed the place.

If it sounds like it should have been fun … it wasn’t. I feel like a silly girl for admitting this, but I was almost in tears for the first half of the run. I’d been looking forward to healing Kara for 70 levels, and spent a significant amount of time (more than I ever put into my ‘lock!) researching — and then farming, crafting or grinding — entry-level raiding gear (resto4now, how I love thee!) in preparation for it.

Then, in 90 minutes of chaotic chain-pulling madness, we full-cleared the entire instance and I was left feeling more like a spectator than an active participant. I know I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t particularly enjoying herself; the other healer whispered me a couple of times to observe that the tank was pulling like an idiot and that the DPS was overconfident and reckless (not focusing the same target, frequently breaking line of sight, etc.) so I shouldn’t be too hard on myself. I did snap at the guys on Vent a couple of times and at one point flat-out refused to heal the tank when he charged three pulls ahead of me while I was drinking. I feel a little guilty about it now, but the experience was beyond frustrating.

On the plus side, I did walk away with several off-spec pieces, as well as a new healing neck, ring and shield; spellpower cloak; T4 helm; and (irony of ironies) a very nice dagger that managed to elude my warlock for 8 months. (No joke: she was rocking a Tempest of Chaos before she even saw a Nathrezim Mindblade drop!) I wasn’t sure if I should roll against the shadow priest for it; even though it’s a huge healing upgrade over my Essence Focuser, I can’t help but think of it as a DPS caster weapon. My boyfriend pointed out that even though it doesn’t have mp5, it does have spell crit, which is better for me than the priest given the new emphasis on critical strike that’s been built into the resto tree. Either way, it’s going to take some time for me to wrap my brain around the idea of sharing non-armor upgrades with priests, mages and warlocks.

But, yes. My second “first Karazhan” was a disappointment. I told myself that I’m only going to run with undergeared PuG’s from now on … but who am I kidding? I love my guild and will always raid with them, even if they do make me slightly crazy from time to time.

Self Portrait


I was blog-hopping at work today today (I can’t view blatantly WoW related sites from the office network — curse you, Internet productivity filters! — but for some odd reason, I can see Blogspot* and WordPress …), and came across this meme on several sites, including this one.

I couldn’t resist. I just had to make a Wordle of my own.

*Yes, that means I can no longer view Pike‘s blog. /cry

Villanie misses hunter kindergarten so much that she went and dyed her mohawk blue. Teenagers and their rebellions, I tell you …

A lower-case “i,” to be exact.

My guild breezed through 7/9 Black Temple last night in our first post-3.0 raid. We were a little nervous going into it. Rumor had it that the BC bosses had infected by some kind of mysterious ailment (could it perhaps be this “expansionitis” I’ve heard so much about?) and had 30% less HP as a result. Still — on paper, at least — it looked more like a rebalancing act than an outright nerf.

Sure, we had these awesome new talents, not to mention raidwide totems and auras (buff!). But class synergies had been drastically changed or eliminated altogether, some of our best buffs no longer stacked and our healers apparently forgot how to downrank to conserve mana (nerf?). Everything was different, all of our mods were broken and most of us were still experimenting with new specs and rotations — very few of which appear to be “finished” for the new endgame at 80, much less balanced for the current one.

So, yes, we were nervous. Things could go very good or very, very bad.

Turns out they went good … too good, even. We one-shot everything (although a “bear stand” saved the wipe on Mother Shahraz when one of our resto shamans d/c’d right on top of the stacked tanks — with the Fatal Attractions debuff, of course).

It took us exactly three hours from start to finish, with a good 10 minutes spent distributing Supremus loot when our elemental shaman experienced a UI glitch that killed his chat box. (We played a game of /em charades to figure out that he wanted to bid on a pair of mail bracers.)

Anyway, we’re anticipating a quick Council kill on Saturday, and then our first real attempts at Illidan. It’s tempting to be disappointed by how easy BT has become, and some of us are worried that downing Illidan — when we finally do — will be anticlimactic.

Personally, I’m of two minds on this. While I would have loved to have defeated Illidan for the first time pre-3.0, I am very proud to have led a casual raiding guild all the way from Attumen to the Illidari Council, with all of our i’s dotted and t’s crossed along the way. (By that, I mean that we downed both Vashj and Kael even after it was technically no longer necessary to do so. /flex)

For a relatively small, determinedly low-key guild that raids three nights a week with a rotating roster — which means we seldom have the same group for two days in a row, let alone the flexibility to min/max for class synergies — we’ve come a very long way. We’re definitely the server tortoise … but then again, how many hares have we seen sprint ahead of us, only to break apart in the homestretch because they lacked the commitment to each other and loyalty to the guild that we’ve built over the course of the last 14 months?

There’s no doubt in my mind that we could have gotten Illidan down without the 3.0 talents or HP nerf. It’s unfortunate that we won’t have the opportunity to prove it to the rest of the server, but— … *epiphany*! When have we ever worried about that?

We’ll earn the “i” on our progression bar, and it won’t be capitalized because the powers-that-be agreed that post-3.0 kills should be noted on the realm forum in lower case letters. But that’s okay.

[HLMKLV] [AHVK] [RAKAA] [NSATGEMCi] has a nice ring to it too, don’t you think?

Roll an Undead female — preferably a caster — and /cower.

Cutest thing ever.

Zigmat is currently 20% of my damage. Granted, I haven’t perfected the rotation and — because I’m an idiot — was testing a fire spec using a Soulfrost-enchanted Tempest of Chaos … so I probably wasn’t pulling my weight.

I think the rotation is supposed to go something like this: Corruption > Immolate > Incinerate until Immolate is down to its last tick > Conflagerate, with Chaos Bolts thrown in whenever the CD is up (provided they doesn’t make Conflagerate miss an Immolate). I haven’t bothered to do “warlock maths” though, so this is just something I’m feeling out. Eventually, I may get around to playing with real numbers; for now, we’re just pew-pewing away at the target dummies in Thunder Bluff with a jury-rigged UI and half the mods we’re used to.

… Did I just say we’re used to? Oh no! I hope I’m not picking up that huntery habit of talking in the first person plural. Minions are slaves, not pets!

Except for Luu, for some reason. I can’t help but think of my trusty devoted felhunter as ‘Lock’s Best Friend. We do everything together, and he is definitely my pet of choice for idling around Shattrath looking oh-so cuute in my new purple pigtails.