Thursday, December 03, 2009

The furriest escapist and more stories from Azeroth

The rogue cat

It's a lost/found story with a good ending for an evening of darkness and freezing rain in the cold, wet north.

I get a call at about 9pm AZ (midnight MI) from my roommates who have lost their Internet connexion because Comcast made a mistake. My roommate, Djenna, who got a cat to keep me company while I'm indoors during the day without anybody to spend time with tells me that Pullo – the rogue cat – has been missing all day. Nowhere to be seen in the house, and he hasn't eaten. And he eats like a horse.

TV weather warns that it's going to be a heavy snow.

About 1am MI her husband calls me to tell me that while casing our neighborhood for likely bushes, a cat-shaped shadow detached itself from some foliage and followed him home.

Pullo arrived wet, shivering, covered in mud, and not at all upset by his experience out in the icy-cold. Fortunately for me his time missing amounted to about an hour or so, my roommates, though, had to suffer through not knowing where he was for about a day.

This is the same cat who likes to try to chase squirrels and once got herded, cornered, and pinned against the house and a stand of firewood by a small troop of the fuzzy buggers and had to be carried out (by me) to get him back inside because he didn't want to go anywhere near them.

 

Fear and Loathing in Outlands

This morning, flying across the cracked and parched wasteland of the Hellfire Peninsula I realized that I am having bag space problems. Both my rogue and my hunter constantly run out of space to keep their flowers and pelts – this is discounting things like the skulls of the fallen and other bling.

So, I started looking around for some of the larger bags. Mine are all 16s right now, good ole Netherweave; however, with the introduction of Northrend there’s new cloth! Frostweave. And Frostweave Bags are 20s. So I now am the proud owner of eight new Frostweave Bags. Although, it would be nice to get a Glacial Bag or two (if they didn’t cost 1,000g a piece for those 2 extra slots.)

Spearmint went back to Hellfire and Zangarmarsh after a brief stay in Terokkar Forest. Mostly because she felt like painting the steppes red with the blood of brown fel orcs; and she’d left some big game in Zangarmarsh un-hunted. Positively fun, this one, looking for a giant hydra in Serpent Lake; and then she had to cut down a gargantuan crab-man waiting with his parking brake on in the middle of an island north of Zubra’Jin.

Oh, and Boglash.

Fun and games with Boglash. ‘Mint and her red-bug-of-death took him on and did the usual hunter song-and-dance with the flabby, pale menace, downed him and went home; but when it came tie for Anoxia to take him on…everything went a little differently…

She snuck up behind the thing, holding her breath against the marsh gases. Her fingers twitched, daggers rising and falling with the soft sigh of the water as the tripod’s legs slashed wakes from the otherwise somulent murk. She opened up with an ambush, both blades poised into the thing’s Achilles tendon—or at least what she expected was—it wobbled dangerously, spinning to face her. She twirled, blood, blade, and venom leading the way, slicing and dicing tentacle and tendril alike. It struck out with lightning, she kicked it in what she hoped might have been a kidney.

It seemed mere moments later, cool downs all burning, ‘Nox stood over the fallen blubber of the pale monstrosity.

“Oh, glowing spores. Gee,” she said. And then trekked home for the reward.

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