“Yes, we know that you’re a warlock,” you might be thinking.
But do you know that I’m a clarinet player?
I’ve been playing my clarinet for almost a decade now.
It feels weird that I’m old enough to say things about myself involving a decade of pursuit.
I think it was fifth grade I learned to play the recorder. I remember loving playing Hot Cross Buns over and over on that probably really badly tuned plastic stick with holes on it with twenty-some other really bad recorder players in the carpeted trailer that served as our music classroom.
In fifth grade, the last grade before middle school, the middle school band teachers came over with a whole bunch of instruments. Everything you’d see in a sixth grade band — clarinets, flutes, trumpets, drums, saxes, trombones, french horns.
I wanted badly to play the drums. Specifically the xylophone.
Unfortunately, they required piano practice for some unknown reason to play the drums. I still don’t know why.
People, this is why I endured two years of piano. I quit piano after I realized that the advanced pieces required huge handspans (Screw you, Chopin, for making music I love but CAN’T play) and I’m a person with small hands. Example? A DVD case’s height is thumb to pinky stretching. The Logitech USB mouse with only two buttons and scroll wheel is my perfect mouse size. I have small hands.
Anyway, I banged on the drumpad as best in rhythm as I could. I even got to try the trumpet, but I didn’t like it because I fail at buzzing my lips. Years later a trombone friend (who happened to play a cat druid in a guild with some dashingly crimson vestments) told me that was weird because typically people start out on the trombone which has a bigger mouthpiece.
After you try all the instruments, they tell you which one they think you’d be good for playing for the next three to seven years.
I got the clarinet as my result.
Dime a Dozen
The clarinet, in my opinion at the time, was like the violin of bands. Violins are to orchestras like clarinets are to bands. There are a LOT of clarinets. The clarinet section takes up an entire side on high school band seating. There’s easily 20-30 clarinets in a section. In District Band tryouts — that is, the school district and all the band players in it — 70 was on the low side for a tryout listing.
Because of the clarinet’s abundance in school bands, it’s considered an honor if you make Symphonic Band instead of the lower Concert Band. Same thing for flutes and maybe trumpets.
For something like the oboe or the bassoon or the percussionists, you weren’t even remotely bad-ass until you were in the first parts’ (parts are split into first, second, and third, sometimes fourth in old pieces) seating. Maybe not even until you WERE number one chair.
Why? If six oboists show up to audition, grats, you made it. Number-wise, nearly 100% of the oboists who auditioned got into one of the bands. Maybe one person didn’t make it because they only needed five across the two bands. You have to beat four maybe five other people to get an audition spot for States. It wasn’t that rare to have the first chair bassoonist be a godly good senior, and the second chair was just pretty good sophomore.
Seventy clarinets show up to audition and about thirty-five to forty made it. Number-wise, 50-60% of the clarinets made it. You have to beat sixty to sixty-four people to get an audition for States. Basically, not only did you have to be playing first part in Symphonic Band, you had to be in the top half of those playing first part to be even guaranteed an audition for States. The two clarinets on either side of me were maybe a point or two off from my score. You had to compare the first chairs of the two bands (#1 of auditions and #21 of auditions) to get any real jump in score.
Once, I made it to 12th chair Symphonic. That’s end of the second row (three rows usually). 13th chair was the beginning of third row. I was the last possible second part clarinet. I was ECSTATIC. I still have my nametag from that that says my name, my school, and my chair. I wasn’t even playing first part and I was SUPER HAPPY.
Sure, as an oboist, you’ve got pressure because no one has your part. But clarinets? To be a good clarinetist, to separate yourself from the merely average clarinetist, you’ve got to be godly good.
Which is a ridiculous amount of pressure for anybody to bear.
But I’m Special
I wanted to be a percussionist when I was littler because I wanted to stand out.
Clarinets and flutes are largely composed of girls. There’s always talk of that One Guy Flute or that One Guy Clarinet and whether he’s going to still be there by sophomore year. Percussionists and brass players, on the other hand, are largely guys. Though, I admit, I would have been a stereotypical percussion girl if I did happen to play the xylophone. Girls played the bells, y’know.
My friend, who happened to play tuba in marching band, said tubas measure marching bands by exclaiming that OH MY GOD THEY HAVE A GIRL TUBA! OH OH OH MY GOD THEY HAVE TWO GIRL TUBAS!!!! THEY HAVE TWO GIRL TUBAS WHAT IS THIS I DON’T /faint.
Girl tubas are rare like panda babies, yo.
I wanted to play an awesome instrument purely because I was awesome naturally.
I didn’t take band class when I entered into sixth grade. I was FURIOUS that I was chosen for the lowly clarinet. You can’t even hear the clarinet during pieces. Oh, it looks like they’re playing, but are they really? I don’t hear them.
I’m special, I deserve to play something special and unique.
So I took the option that wasn’t band class. A rotation of keyboarding (l2type class), art class, and choir.
Keyboarding was fun because it was computers, but really boring considering I aced most of the speed typing contests.
Art class could have been fun except I don’t like being told how or what I’m supposed to paint. Art is subjective, right? It’s feeling, right? It’s totally not concrete “Draw this”, right? I was known among my classmates for having a knack at drawing. Well, not like Ginny awesome drawing. But better than your average stick figure.
Choir. HAH. Oh, choir, I don’t miss you at ALL. First off, I was shy and unsure of my singing abilities. That whole singing in front of your peers alone thing? Do you know how nasty peers are?
I had this joke: I can sing, but you don’t want to hear it.
LFM Concert Auditorium, need Clarinets
Late in the semester, the band teacher pulled me and some other people out of art/choir. Just to talk.
Apparently, they needed more clarinets. We three had scored as clarinets back in fifth grade tryouts, so they pleaded with us.
I reluctantly said yes. At least it wasn’t artchoirputer, right?
To epeen a bit, I was first chair clarinetist in my school bands a lot, and when I was wasn’t, I was the highest chair clarinetist in my grade. The one time in District Band I did not make Symphonic Band, I was first chair Concert band. I was in marching band during high school, and I tried out for marching band in college, but kept getting cut below #30 out of the freshies and the returners.
I’m good at clarinet. Not godly good — no, that was a girl in the year below me; she was the James Galway (aka flute GOD) of clarinets that I’ve seen so far. But I think I can say that I’m a good clarinet player.
And to think, I didn’t want to play clarinet in the beginning because the clarinet is the common instrument.
A Clarinet’s Part
Clarinets tune the band — did you know that? Yeah, no shit, they do. Sometimes a flute or an oboe gets picked, sometimes they choose the tuba so you can tune down, but those quickie tunes before the conductor gets on stage are typically done by a clarinet. Mainly because it’s super easy to tune a clarinet. You just pull out if it’s sharp or push in if it’s flat. Nothing with the reed, not much with your embouchure (mouth shape & position), just pull out or push in. Takes half a second.
Our reeds are really cheap, too. I can get a box of 10 for five bucks. An oboe or a bassoon? They can get one of their reeds for 20 bucks on the cheap side. You can also snap an oboe’s reed pretty easily since they have no mouthpiece. Their reed is the mouthpiece.
You can chip a clarinet reed pretty easily too, though you gotta be a real dumbass to do it. If you ever see a bunch of clarinetists carrying around their mouthpiece cover and putting the cover on after every pause … this is why. To prevent ourselves from being dumbasses on a regular basis.
Clarinets play in the same key as trumpets. Trumpets are loud. Trumpets are also stereotypically full of themselves. A standard band joke is “How many trumpets does it take to screw in a light bulb?” “Seven; one to screw it in, and six to tell him they can do it better.” You hear trumpets more often than your hear clarinets, but we often play the same parts.
Or we’ll be playing with the flutes. That’s what first part clarinets do a lot, because we’re in the upper register all the time. The second part clarinets might end up playing with the french horns, harmonizing with everyone. The third part clarinets often end up playing with the bassoons and bass clarinets. Not solid rules, but generalities.
Sometimes there was a clarinet solo. It was upper register nigh on all of the time. Then you’d have clarinet sectionals — it’s like a solo, except the entire section plays. My favorite sectionals were marches. You might think marches are kinda boring. They are foot-tapping, but rather predictable. The trio was almost ALWAYS the clarinet sectional. I love march trios. The first time through the trio, it was just the clarinets on top of everybody’s piano (I mean soft volume this time). The second time, everybody joined in, but it was still the clarinet’s party.
I also love Celtic songs. Not because I happen to have Irish heritage and like Celtic music anyway, but I love playing the clarinet on Celtic-sounding pieces. Very mellow sounding, and you get long notes that bring out the clarinet’s natural woody sound. (Wood clarinet >> plastic clarinet)
College Band Class
I still play my clarinet from time to time. Not as much as I used to. I did play for a bit in the college band class, but I kept feeling bad about not practicing so I stopped. It was relaxing, though, and quite fun, so I probably ought to try it again.
There was one time when the trombones (GEEZ TROMBONES) couldn’t get this funky rhythm to work. The conductor / band director asked rhetorically if they could count to four. One…eeeee….piiiiii…FOUR! …right? Am I right? You know I’m totally right… right? Then he stopped himself and started a poll of our majors to prove we should be ashamed of ourselves for not being able to count properly.
About half the band was comprised of engineering majors. I mean, I go to a university known for engineering. That was expected.
The majority after engineering was math & science majors — almost the rest of the band. Science being a broad term ranging from biology to animal sciences (we also have a pretty good veterinary grad school).
There were no music majors present. Not a single one.
So yes, it’s entirely possible to assemble a band of a hundred or so people who play an instrument outside their major just for shits and giggles. Even more amazing, you can come back the next semester and the same people are there. Crazy, right?
I am a Warlock
I have this joke: I can sing, but it sounds reedy. (I “sing” through playing my clarinet.)
It’s not too hard to tell people I love the clarinet and have them believe that I play my clarinet because I love playing the clarinet. They don’t believe I play it because I want any sort of fame or it’s a hard instrument to pick up or I play like freaking Benny Goodman good or anything superficial reason like that.
So why is it so hard for other WoW players of different roles to believe I play my warlock, a pure DPS class, not because it’s hard or it has less pressure than a healing or tanking spec or because I can be a hardcore raider with hardcore recognition of my hardcore DPS numbers?
I believe tuba players play the tuba because it’s fun. Not because it happens to be the most important instrument in the room when the band has to crescendo (or decrescendo).
Can you believe my fellow clarinets that they play their clarinets, their warlocks and hunters and mages and rogues and cat druids and moonkin and fury warriors and arms warriors and frost DKs and unholy DKs and enhancement shamans and elemental shamans and shadow priests and ret pallies … because they like to play their DPS spec for shits and giggles?
Can you believe that I play my affliction warlock purely because I love being an affliction warlock?
Believe me, I know I’m a dime a dozen, I’ve been a dime a dozen for half my life now, and it’s not an insult to me. I relish it, actually. After years of playing the upper register, I’ve come to the conclusion that second part is where it’s at! I know I’m not the soloist, and it’s not an insult to me. I know I’m not the best in my class, and it’s not an insult to me. I actually like being Not The Best.
What is an insult to me, is you telling me I couldn’t possibly choose a class for what it is. That I have to have some stupid reason like less pressure to boost my self-esteem in order to love what I’m doing.
That…is what I, as a player of a pure DPS class, find insulting about this whole DPS-Healer-Tank trinity discussion that pops up every once in while.
I mean, really. I had a few good typed rants that have been trashed. And I thought about doing the whole “YAY IT’S OVER” post, but…nyahhhhhhhh.
So there. Alas should be happy.
If you hadn’t seen INTERNET DRAGONS, you fail. I mean, really. It was all over Twitter and blogs and podcasts and stuff. You shouldn’t see it because it was everywhere, though. It was everywhere because it’s just that awesome.
Over this whole “saga” I retweeted more than I think I ever have, and I’d added a lot of posts to my “blog favorite posts” bookmark folder. Y’know, those posts that are just so awesome, I go back weeks or months (haven’t gotten to a year yet!) later just to read it again. Some of them are rants, some of them are happy posts, and some of them are sad posts. But they — bloggers, Twitters, the WoW community — all hit me right there.
In that place where your inner internet dragonslayer lives.
Psssst: welcome back, Gnome!
It’s all I really want if you’re going to leave.
I don’t care if you’re leaving because you want to raid or somebody threatened you, but don’t you dare say you still love me and then just leave with a stupid obligatory goodbye forum post or one-liner in-game.
I don’t really know what the problem was that started the schism or what brought it about. Thrax, the guy that called me a n00b the first time I saw Shatt on a friend’s computer screen in Chem lecture, was demanding some communication about the ICC25 raids and why he wasn’t invited. He’s a dick half the time but he’s a competent raider, at least, I always thought. He’s a dick, but I can ignore him, mainly because I know half the time it’s because he’s angry or he doesn’t mean it.
It’s like crude jokes in-game or with my guy friends. I let them pull sexual innuendos out of everything I say and I go back and forth with them on it, but only because I know they don’t actually mean anything by it. They would never actually hit on me or treat me dirty. The same with Thrax. I don’t really know, but I feel like despite his ability to be a complete asshole I felt like he would never actually go through with a lot of things.
Other people didn’t think so, I guess. Whatever, people got pissy in the forums, Thrax said somebody threatened him in private, so he did it in public, in the thread.
Did I ever mention I was on the young end of the guild? Yeah, Thrax is 30-something, he acted like he was 3. Other people involved are as old or older than him, they acted like they were 3.
I thought it was going to be another drama llama and then we’d all just laugh about it 2 weeks later in some Naxx alt raid for kicks.
Every day I log on, my loading screen takes forever. Probably because I have so many addons. But I go visit the guild forums every day during that loading screen or when I just wake up. Every day. It’s often the first site I go to every day. I mean, Google is my homepage, but before I hit up Twitter, before I hit up Facebook, before I open Thunderbird, before I go to Blackboard to find out I forgot to do X Homework…every day the first thing I do on the internet is TSR.
So I pull up the forums and there it is. Cat-fight. Omfg, wtf, geezus guys, I log on expecting to go wtf? and get a oh, it’s just drama again, /angry, words, /sigh, okay I still love you guys, what was I thinking, lolwut.
I got “Ed has promoted Rob to be the new Guild Master.” [G][-Ed-]: I’ll see you guys on the forums. Ed has left the guild.”
WHAT THE GODDAMN SHITTIN FUCK.
This is ED. ED! Mr. Cool. Complete one-fucking-eighty for him to leave, in my mind. I swear, the amount of shit he put up with in raids and Vent and guild and he still kept a cool head. Only after raiding with him for a long time could I begin to tell when he was getting frustrated. Actually, it was only after I took a stab at raid leading. He was Mr. Cool, my role model for keeping a level head while dealing with drama in the game.
And he fucking left. Supposedly due to Thrax, who is known for his asshattery. I say supposedly because it really doesn’t feel like it was just because of Thrax.
For the rest of the day I got to watch as forum and in-game /gquits commenced. I didn’t want to log off or afk in fear that I would miss saying goodbye to someone. Not that they really said goodbye. Steve, Mary, Ed, Sean, Dave, Daniel…all gone. They all have five bazillion alts, too. Do you know what that looks like?
Once, Kel-Greg got hacked. Kel has like five bazillion alts, mainly because he’s been around since TSR was born, I swear, so half of them are almost bank-alts reborn. The day he got hacked we were waiting around for a healer or something to finish out a raid, and boom, he logs on. Hey! Kel! Come heal for us! etc.
But he never answers. Switches toons even. Kel? Kel, man, come on, come heal for us. No answers.
The sleezeball logged on and off Kel’s various alts for about two hours, selling off his stuff and mail the gold to somewhere else.
And we got to watch. And couldn’t do anything about it except watch and take screenshots hoping Blizz would give Kel his stuff back. Though, I’ve never been raped personally, after watching someone be hacked in WoW, it’s the closest I can get to feeling like I just watched someone get raped.
When half your guild leaves, and they remove all their alts, you get to watch. Helpless. You can’t do squat. They keep telling you it’s not your fault, but, omg, it totally feels like it.
As they quit the guild, they keep telling you they still love you.
The day/night before this, I had been engaged and listening to the Twisted Nether Blogcast with Miss Medicina guesting. I took notes and figured I’d do sort of my commentary on her interview. One of the questions asked was what was your Greatest WoW Achievement ever. Hers was putting together a successful ICC 10man that raids two hours a week (in the same night) and is up to Festergut.
Yeah that’s pretty awesome.
My Greatest WoW Achievement ever was getting my Dreadsteed of Xoroth.
Why? I got it done when it was still a quest. I solo’d my way “growing up” in WoW. Aside from sharing green text with TSR, I didn’t really feel part of TSR, just kind of Tig’s RL friend who happened to joined and could read about adventures in Kara. I knew the dreadsteed quest involved a crapton of mats, only some of which came from my professions of tailoring and enchanting. It also involved a few dungeons, including the culminating step.
I needed people. So I asked on the guild forums for help. Small, shy, I know you might point me toward the mats, but I’ll need to get them myself. I might have to badger people into going to get the dungeons done, because, pfttt, who does Dire Maul anymore?
Within a couple of days, my guild practically dropped everything I needed for the quest in my lap. No questions asked. Although you HAVE to complete the quests for the ritual items, we used Roliat’s old items. I think we even did the pally charger quest at some point during the dungeoning.
I still remember riding on my felsteed up through the Burning Steppes on my way to complete the final final final step. Y’know, the Alliance flightpoint is down in the southeast corner of the map, and the warlock dude is way way way up in the northwest corner, and no, you can’t just fly like the crow riding over there. It was epic. I felt epic. And then I handed it in. And had plenty of laughs involving as many sexual innuendos as possible involving fire, reins, steed, thrusting, etc. with Thrax in guild chat.
When I feel down in Wrath of the Lich King, one of the ways I still cheer myself up is to look up my Dreadsteed of Xoroth Feat of Strength achievement.
My guild helped me get it. My. Guild. My. My guild.
My Greatest WoW Achievement EVAR was the day I felt like a Robe and a Warlock at the same damn time. Chest pieces are pretty, but I wear my tabard with pride, and talbuks are pretty, but my Dreadsteed is the one on my mount macro.
My tabard is my WoW blanky.
I started WoW because of a Robe RL friend. I was born in the Robes. I’ve grown up in the Robes. I matured in the Robes, as a Robe.
It’s so old and stained and patched up. There are tears in it, laughing ones and sad ones. I’ve sneezed on it. I’ve wiped blood off my felpuppy’s cheeks with it. I’ve held it over my head when it rained AGAIN in Duskwood. I’ve used it as a fan while grinding Cenarion Circle rep in Silithus. I wore it when I dinged 70, I wore it when I dinged 80. I criticized gear appearance because it made my tabard look bad.
I wear a Red Linen Shirt ever since I’ve been able to make Red Linen Shirts, because isn’t that what a proper Scarlet Robe should wear under her tabard?
Y’know when you ding the real life 16 or 17 or 18 or 31 and your parents tell you it’s time to throw that old thing away? And you totally can’t. At first you totally can’t because it’s your BLANKY, enough said. Why can’t they get that. And then it’s because you KNOW it’s old, its time is gone, and you SHOULD just throw it away or donate it or whatever…but you can’t. Because it’s a part of you.
My tabard is a part of me, goddamnit.
And yet, I realize maybe I should put it away. I want to raid and see some content. The people who are left in the Robes, well, they’re awesome people, and yeah, we could raid, but the majority just don’t. Some of them, Patrick & Leah, were top-end, yes. Some others, not so much. It wasn’t that they didn’t try, but it just wasn’t the right attitude.
So part of me wants to go, because it realizes I might not be happy here.
Might not. Well, it took me a while to figure out that raiding is not the actual end-game. Not to me, anyway. My guild is the end-game. Playing with people I care about, even though I’ve never met them beyond their online avatars. Right now, my end-game feels scattered to the winds. There, but not all together.
But my tabard is still my blanky. I still have memories of the Scarlet Robes, some of them with the people who left and some still with the people still tagger <The Scarlet Robes>. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to say goodbye.
I can’t even phrase goodbye, right now. And I know how it hurt that people never really said goodbye, except in a forum post or one-liner before “___ left the guild.” I don’t want to hurt the friends still here. Because I would be saying I’m leaving and still loving them, but leaving doesn’t feel like loving at all.
I feel like a lost puppy. Originally I felt, to rephrase Leah, like a puppy in the middle of a divorce. Both sides saying, “C’mere, girl, c’mon!” and using me as proof the other sucked. And me, sitting, panting in the middle of the room, switching form looking at one to looking at the other, with that sad face on my face that says, “But, why can’t I have both? Why this now?”
Now that the one parent left, I don’t want to diss the parent I have left by saying you’re not good enough. Because you’re not. You’re amazing. But it doesn’t feel the same anymore, and I want that family bond back.
An old Robe comes back on the forums every once in a while, and as this all went on, he posted a little bit about What Are the Robes?. He said a friend of his, an ex-Robe of long past, had been through 14 guilds since. Fourteen. And not once has he encountered a bond in a guild as strong as The Scarlet Robes.
So, here’s one lost puppy, LF a Robe-strong WoW family. She likes to play catch in demonic portals, pick Lifeblooms, and Maul unsuspecting skeletons. She might go home with you, or she might stay with her Tattered Robes as they rebuild. She really doesn’t know what to do anymore.
My guild just died. I got to watch.
Overnight, somebody had a pissy fit and whipped out a threat of physical violence at a guild RL gathering and just like that. Boom. My guild died.
I logged on to find the GM had stepped down and then I watched him leave. THe entire day I couldn’t log off because I was afraid I’d miss the chance to say another goodbye. Half my favorite people are gone.
I don’t log onto WoW to theorycraft or to raid or to do quests or to WoW. I log on to play with my Robes, my family.
And now my Robes are gone, almost. I say almost, there are some of us left, it was huge schism, though. So there’s still The Scarlet Robes, been around on US-Eonar Alliance since forever, but we’re tattered scraps.
I’m still terribly sad, devastated, and a little shocked. So maybe posts will come just so I can write my way through pain or maybe I’ll leave off here for a bit. I’ll try to keep up the TNWiki like I said I’d start, though.
It exploded in the WoW blogosphere, I think. It seems to have subsided a little, so probably after compiling all my thoughts and ponderings on the subject, I’ll be too late and too repetitive. I still feel like it would be a good exercise: for thinking, for writing, for perspective, for blogging, for whatever.
My core perspective is my two mains: an affliction warlock and a beartree druid. My absolute “main” is my warlock — a DPS. Moreover, a class whose three talent trees are all designed for the DPS role, so I play a pure DPS class, to be specific. But I also have devoted a great deal of time and effort into being a great bear TANK and tree HEALER. My tree is currently decked out in 4pc t9, bear is after warlock, and warlock is in progress through the Triumph handouts. At first I was outraged by the post — because I swear, I’m a warlock at heart, a pure DPS. Then I got to thinking…
And I’m still thinking. Mostly reading other people’s perspectives and opinions and blog posts on the subject and then thinking some more through my own opinions and perspectives.
Would posting my thoughts be too late and/or too repetitive of others’ before?
Battered Hilt should be BoP. It recently threw my heart and head for a few loops while I fought with myself over whether I had rightfully and fairly won the roll or if I had “stolen” it from a guildy. But it also brought me some heartful happiness, not just +200 spellpower.
Epic loot for my warlock
Long story short: a group of guildies had been trying to grind the elites in Pit of Saron for this epic drop. One of the members keeps disconnecting, so he tells the other four on Vent to find somebody else; it’s obviously not working for him. I answered the call for one more DPS in guild chat. I come in, I haven’t done the quest to go to HoR, and the four tell me they’re grinding for the Hilt. No prob, I’m just here for badgers more or less. Something like the third elite I’m in there for, the Hilt drops. I paused in case this was a run for a specific somebody. Nope, “all roll need,” and within 30 seconds, the Hilt was mine.
The part that was throwing me for a loop was after I won it, some of the group was telling me to link it to another guildy. I did. Twice. It wasn’t until this guildy told me that it was his spot I had taken when I felt like a total asshole for essentially though unintentionally waving the epic drop in his face. And the other four were offering me gold or allowing me to trade the item if I felt so guilty.
I didn’t want to steal the item, especially not from a guildy. The Robes are my online family. But…I also don’t like being taken advantage of for something I had won fairly. I told this to the group, and they said, no, it was a fair roll for all and I won it, so I kept it.
It should be BoP
Its state of BoE (Bind on Quest?), tradeable, SELLABLE–it’s complete bullshit. It’s way too stressful deciding who gets it. A RL friend mentioned in passing, which toon did I give it to? My warlock or my druid? I was appalled. Decking out my druid with the mace when my warlock won the Hilt would feel like double rolling. Then what, my druid can roll for my warlock next time it drops? While WEARING the friggin mace? Bullshit. My warlock WON it, my warlock GETS it.
That’s rather like walking into a raid on my druid, and a cool enchant or that wicked pattern drops. Is my druid allowed to roll on those and win, since my warlock can use them? At least on Eonar, the answer is hell no. Of the pugged raids I get into, many RLs will state that you must link your 450 profession and then learn it on the spot.
Then why is this epic item any different? It’s not even legendary. I mean, yes, the questline is pretty awesome, but it’s still only purple.
Lens of the Mind: Why do you want it?
Guildies, whom I trusted and who are good raiders, were willing to bribe me for it. WTF. No offense, I don’t get to raid much on my warlock anymore. I’m usually pulled to come heal or tank. It’s not like I’m going to be hitting up ICC anytime soon on Pone, unless I pick up a rep-grinding pug. These four guildies? Three of them are in the guild’s top ten on WowHeroes. Like, y’know, ToC25 is a “medium” raid difficulty for them. So it’s not really like it was an “upgrade” deal. The guy who bribed me gold for it was offering 5k, maybe 7k, for it. I know it’s going on the AH for 19-20k. Had I taken it, not only would I have sold a winning roll, but I’d have gotten thoroughly cheated out of it, too.
Really guys? I almost didn’t want it anymore. I figured much like the EoE key, I’d never get it on my warlock due to prioritizing tanks or healers. It’s not worth stressing over, especially among guildmates.
But I got to see Sunwell
I started playing WoW in Feb 2008, and soloed my way up to 70 as I watched many raids go on in guild chat. As they wrestled what’shisname in Karazhan, the satyr guy, I kept getting told I need to get to 70 NOW so they can have a good affliction warlock for that fight. One of my dreams of integrating into the guild (since I got in by being a RL friend) was to finally raid with them, because then I’d be “one of them.” Ironically I did get into Kara maybe once. I remember I was at 69 or maybe I had just dinged. I came as loot monkey, running around trying to enjoy the place while the other 9 people who had the place memorized were rushing ahead. We got to the satyr guy where affliction warlocks are king, and I was told I was just going to SoC the shit out of the place, and I looked through my spellbook and…I didn’t have the spell yet. Bummer.
I remember doing dailies in the Isle of Quel’Danas for a while to get myself ready to raid. About two weeks of being 70, Wrath hits. And I went back to soloing and leveling. Again. So I hurried my butt up to 80 so I could raid. FINALLY RAID. With my guild, my “family.”
Anyway, favorite WoW pasttime of mine is to go solo old content I never got to do. For one it’s a good exercise for my class abilities. Soloing Mechanar at level 80 is still pretty slow and deadly as an affliction warlock. I don’t care if you think I’m doing it wrong, I never got to go there. It’s fun. Like, y’know, when I got to the Antechamber in Ulduar, I was excited that I got to pull Banish out of my spellbook and put it on my bar. Because OMG I GET TO CC. So here I am, at the waning end of the questline, about to go into SUNWELL PLATEAU.
OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY.
I went in already Alt+Z’d and was snapping screenshots like a paparazzi. Because I figure since none of the old farts want to go back (they just want moar epix), I might never see it again. And I figure I will keep this sword forever, much like I still have the cloak some guildies mass-made for an Old World Wednesday old-level-60 Onyxia run.