All the Horrible Girliness

Like A Virgin

Regarding my previous post: I may have overreacted. I was in the same emotional vein as the EA Spouse. I do that when I read. Mr. Aran's job isn't nearly as horrible as EA Person. I just miss Mr. Aran a lot.

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I was a little disappointed with Furor the other night. Furor, the leader of the infamous guild Fires of Heaven, has been helping me quest in the Plaguelands this week. He's known for being an asshole, and entertaining as hell. The sweetest thing he's ever said to me, before inviting me to a raid, was: "You'll have to do."

The best quests in the game thus far are in the Plaguelands. You're putting dolls together for little girls who don't know they're dead; using machines to make worms crawl out of buildings; blowing up ziggurats; and killing some really epic elite mobs.

I know Furor doesn't like to die. I've heard tell. His girlfriend likes to imitate him by pointing at the monitor and yelling, "Why am I dead?" So when you're the priest to his warrior, you go in knowing he'd better not die, or you'll get a... screenful. Some of the most colorful insults I've seen have come not from Shakespeare, but from old FoH raid screenshots.

So, Furor dies.

Pause.

"Gay," he says.

Quietly, he retrieves his corpse. I feel a bit inadequate, at level 56, with ho-hum gear and no prior mmorpg experience. We discuss, civilly, how I might manage mana better this time. "Use more efficient heals," he advises, "and no bubs. And he seems fearable."

We try again. We get adds, he gets low on health. I hit fear. The adds fly off, but the big guy resists.

Furor dies.

"Don't fear," he says.

This time, I die too. We ride around looking for the guy. The most antagonistic thing he says is, "Where the fuck is he?"

With the help of a couple other guildies, we take down the monster and loot his patch of fur.

I thought, up until last night, that he was being easy on me because Mr. Aran has big biceps and a knife rig in his office. He can be intimidating. Then, last night, Furor let me know he wasn't afraid of no biceps.

After killing off our party near Stratholme (I was too far away for him to take aggro off me) the resulting conversation was a blur of "What the fucking fuck fuck fuck! Fucking fuckety fuck Samus! Fucking range fucking ability fucking imbecile!"

Okay, he may not have called me an imbecile, but it was implied. I laughed my ass off. I read it off to Mr. Aran (who was loving a new wrestling game in the next room), and took screenshots.

I felt exhilerated. It was my first time, and I think he was rather gentle, in comparison. At the end of the evening, he thanked everyone but me for their help.

I went to bed hours earlier than I would have with any other guild. God bless FoH. I love all you guys.

posted by Samus @ 2:25 PM