RP Hate

There is a member of my guild who is very vocal about disliking Roleplay, I’ll call him Mack. To be fair Mack is also very vocal about just about everything.

Mack has told me over and over again how horrible the players from Moonguard and Nesingwary are when he runs into them in random heroics, ending his comments by spitting, “Fucking Roleplayers!” I find it amusing because Nesingwary isn’t an RP realm, and he never mentions Wyrmrest Accord or Farstriders which are RP realms. My guess is he doesn’t really realize which are RP realms and which aren’t. If they’re bad they must be RP. I’ve done my share of pugging, and personally, I’ve had more trouble with players from the PvP servers on our Battlegroup than the RPers.

Are we talking about Tirion?

With the plethora of newbies invading the realm, I guess Mack has run into some roleplayers. Mack is very against the invasion of newbs, and it gets even worse if he thinks they are RPing at him.

So I found it incredibly amusing when someone said in trade, “If you don’t know who the leader of the Argent Crusade is then get off our server.” Mack said, “Yeah! If they don’t know that shit they need to gtfo!”

Last I checked, knowledge of the primary faction leaders and storyline is what we call Lore. Knowledge of Lore would be a primary criteria for Roleplaying. I called him out on it, and he had no response.

This one time at the Aldor bank…

It reminds me of this one time back in BC, a friend and I were outside of the Aldor bank chatting in /say. Some random person came up to us and told us to go find an RP server to RP on, because no one wants to hear us. The funny thing is that I was talking to her about taking my cat to the vet IRL.

I recognize that I’m not on an RP realm anymore, but it still makes me a little butthurt when I hear people trashing Roleplayers. I think a lot of times most mainstream players have no concept of what RP really is. It’s human nature to fear and lash out at that which you don’t understand, I suppose.

Guild Concerns

Mack’s viewpoint is infectious. The entire guild has taken to making fun of the Moonguard players whenever they appear in a group, even if they are playing well enough. “Oh the Moonguard Mage is doing 100 dps less than me. Stupid Moonguard.”

Even more frustrating, they start talking in Old English, as if that is how real RPers talk. “The Moonguard people are too busy saying, ‘My lord, perhaps we might visit the lumbermill this day, for they hath the finest oak in the realm.’ to perform well in a BG.” I’ve actually threatened to gquit. I know I should just let the jokes go, but I know I am a Roleplayer at heart, and it hurts.

/2 WTB a little tolerance, paying with kindness, pst.

My GM and I spoke about the issue a few days later, and all is well. They have had nothing but abysmal experiences with Moonguard. It has nothing to do with RP, although, since they know it is an RP server, the jokes tend to turn that way. At the time I didn’t feel like I had any means of standing up for RP. He gave me a few suggestions that he thought could diffuse the situation if it came up again. He apologized and explained that he meant no offense to me.

Special Project Time?

Personally, I have had nothing but good experiences with the players from the 3 RP realms on our battlegroup. I think it may be time for a new pet project in which I document what realm different players in randoms are from and grade them on skill and behavior, just to get a test of where the scrubs really lie (at least in my opinion).

The irony is that Cairne has a reputation for being the shitty server on the Battlegroup.

Amaste’s Tale: Part Three

Author’s note: This would be my entry for the Blog Azeroth shared topic: RP a scene with your favorite mount. It is also the next chapter in my story about Amaste Lightweaver. Ironically, this is where the story was headed, even without the shared topic coming up.

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Tripping over the rubble of the broken door, she stepped through the entrance way. She grabbed her cloak, drawing it over her mouth and nose to keep from inhaling any more of the acrid smoke. As she blinked away the tears from the smoke, what recently was a body filled her vision. A dark pile of ash lay on the floor in front of her. The person this once was had not been burned naturally. There had been a lich among the undead that had invaded here.

Among those ashes she could see the gleam of an emerald, an emerald in a beautifully filigreed setting. It had been her aunt’s.  She scooped it up and stuffed it into her pocket, fighting back tears. She glanced around in search for any signs of her sister. She had to stay strong until she found her sister.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement in the shadows at the corner of the room. She urgently hissed, “Dhoti!” but no answer came. She tiptoed forward, carefully avoiding any burning rubble. As she approached the corner, she heard a high pitched squawk and a rustle of feathers.

Her aunt had been attempting to hatch an orphaned hawk strider egg. In the turmoil of the invasion the egg must have hatched. She made soft cooing noises as she inched towards the corner.

Still wet with the fluid from it’s egg, the bird was huddled behind what once had been a bookshelf, shivering and squawking occasionally. Her feathers a jet black, as dark as the ashes of her aunt, the bird looked at her knowingly, calming as Amaste approached, and allowed her to pick her up.

Allowing herself a moment to cope with the series of events, Amaste bowed her head, hugging the bird tight to her chest and whispered a solemn prayer:

Out of death comes life.

Out of violence comes peace.

Rest easy, Aunt Zoe.

I will see that this life lives,

Even though you have died.

Amaste made a silent vow to herself. The bird’s name would be Zoe, and she would be the best hawk strider that ever lived. She wiped the bird clean with the end of her cloak and carried on in search of her sister, the newly named hawk strider in tow.

Amaste’s Tale: Part Two

Time seemed to slow as her feet fell rhythmically on the cobblestones, one step after another. She could hear the thudding of her heart as it worked to push blood through her struggling body. She could feel the tickle of a slow bead of sweat sliding down the middle of her back as she ran.

Her mind raced with images and thoughts, but none of them coalesced into true thinking. She was running mindless and numb, her only true thought was to get to her aunt’s house.

The world burst into flames around her as the sweet sickly scent of rotting flesh engulfed her. The Scourge had been here.

She darted off of the road, tripping over an errant tree root. She rolled into a tumble aiming her body to land behind the tree that had caused her fall. Although she had not seen a soul, dead or alive, she needed to be wary not to be caught. The undead had been here and may be here yet. She moved cautiously, slinking from behind burning rubble, trees and bushes as she approached the house.

Suddenly she stopped in a crouch, her body going completely rigid, as her eyes fell on the flames consuming her aunt’s house. Her body and mind froze completely as the gravity of the situation hit her full force.

She gulped in a deep breath. She had not realized she was holding her breath. Then coughing violently at the smoke and stench she had inhaled, the spell was broken and she started to stumble towards the burning house.

She had to know for sure…

We interrupt your regularly scheduled favorites to bring you this important announcement:

EVERQUEST SUCKS!

That is all.

Ok. I lied. That isn’t all. Allow me to explain.

Amaste’s Tale: Part One

Amaste gathered her books into her pack as class was dismissed, taking her time as she had no where else to go. With the approach of the undead army imminent, her parents and elder siblings had gone to prepare for battle and assist the rangers. That left her and her younger sister to stay with her elderly aunt on the outskirts of the city.

She didn’t want to leave the city. She didn’t want to leave the academy. More than anything she just wanted some quiet so she could continue to study. There was no sense in worrying about the Scourge. If the rangers did not hold them, surely the Elfgates would.

As the last of her classmates trudged out of the room, she regretfully hefted her pack over her shoulder and followed. Outside of the academy, the city was a bustle of activity, between rangers preparing for battle, normal life continued for the most part.

She edged her way through the crowds to a park-like area near the academy. She settled her tiny body onto a bench and dug in her pack for a book, settling it on her bony knees to read.

She was a waif of a girl, but beautiful, her hair long and black as night, her skin creamy like milk. The awkwardness of her age was apparent though, her legs and arms long and bony, her hands and feet seemingly larger than her body should have.

Lost in her academic world, she only subconsciously noticed the change in the crowd. There was a sense of urgency tinged by fear radiating through the people surrounding her. Slowly, she looked up, tucking her book back into her pack. People began running madly in every direction.

She caught a frightened looking woman by the arm, and demanded, “What is going on?”

“The undead! They are breaking through!” the woman yelled as she tore out of Amaste’s grasp and continued to run.

The woman’s words broke over the crowd, which erupted with frenzied screams, as they shoved at each other harder, struggling to go… somewhere, anywhere, as if those words finally made the reality hit home to each and every one of them.

Her eyes widening, Amaste muttered in shock, “Through the Elfgate?”

Gasping, she leapt to her feet, elbowing through the crowds as quickly as possible, heading towards her aunt’s house. The crowds thinned to nothing as she got farther from the city center. She ran. She had to reach her aunt and her sister.

Needing Paladin Roleplay Advice

I ended up deleting Amarriel last night. She wasn’t turning out very well. What fun is a backwater farmer’s daughter come to the big city, and now finds herself overwhelmed and with social anxiety? The only thing that was helping me keep going with her was the rp buddy I had made in game.

So, in the end, I do want a Holy Paladin. I love paladins as a class, I know I can play them, since I’ve done it before. I want to learn how to heal on a paladin. Lore-wise, I love the idea of a holy avenger. My trouble is how Blood Elves fit into that.

The whole thing with Mu’ru and the Sunwell and sucking the light out of a Naaru is terribly difficult to swallow. Yes, the Blood Knights were mislead by Kael’thas, but… Really, wouldn’t you know prior to all this that imprisoning the naaru and using it for power is wrong? I guess it comes down to alignment. It seems most Blood Elves are Chaotic Evil and only looking out for themselves. This is not who I want my character to be.

So, here is what I am thinking for my character, just so I can explain why I am not associating myself with the Blood Knights, if I am asked, and how I am wielding the light.

My paladin will have been a scholar studying ancient texts and religions from around the world. With the the destruction of Silvermoon by the Scourge and the troubles thereafter with the Burning Legion and Kael’thas, she was there and discovered an innate ability to touch the light and heal those who were wounded and to wield the light against those who would defile it (the scourge, the wretched, etc.) She staunchly refused to join the Blood Knights, but still continued to aid in the efforts to set things right.

So essentially, would it be acceptable to be a self taught paladin? Can I do this without being shunned by the RP community? I think it’s plausible, but I’m new to this. Am I making a Mary Sue?

Edit: Don’t think I am abandoning my lovely barefoot mage. I love roleplaying Amastrea Frostlight. However, I find myself preferring to stay in Silvermoon and RP, than leveling her. I want the best of both worlds. I want a character I will love to play and RP, hence the paladin.

Amarriel’s Diary

Day One

I left the farm on the outskirts of Sunstrider early this morning and made my way to the spire. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, a good day to start fresh on a new life.

I’ve come to seek my destiny in the big city, famous Silvermoon. I feel the stirrings of the light in me and I want to learn more.

I ran numerous errands at the spire and on into Falconwing Square. The Wretched are simply horrible. To be warped by the power of the light like that… It’s abominable. I have never been one to abuse power. Power is there as a blessing to share and use to help others.

I use the light to help me be stronger when fighting things like the Wretched, and to heal others who have been hurt.

I am spending the night in Falconwing. We shall see what the morning brings. So far the other paladins I have met have been great help, and very understanding in the use of the light. I’m a little worried about what will come when I reach Silvermoon.

Day Two

I rose even earlier today, in time to see the sun rise red over the horizon. There are still many errands to run.

On one of my errands to the West Sanctum, I came across a conjurer. We worked together to take out the elementals there, and he accompanied me to Silvermoon.

His name is Con’renar. He can’t remember his last name. He can’t remember much of anything. He’s very nice, if a bit clumsy sometimes, and quite good at conjuring.

The city! It’s too big. It’s too noisy. It’s too crowded. I just about lost my lunch when I went to inquire about a room in the inn. Thank goodness Con was there to help me.

I’ve promised to help him find himself. He has promised not to burn any more letters for coin.

Tomorrow I must seek the Blood Knights for training. Considering that I nearly ran straight back to Falconwing today, I’m afraid tomorrow will not go well. We shall see.

Meet Amastrea Frostlight

The Barefoot Mage

Between the two alts I am playing most on Wyrmrest, the one I am enjoying more by far is my precocious little mage.

Amaida (formerly Amaiya on Farstriders) is a little bit difficult to play. Being an idiot that has the vocabulary of a 4-year-old is perhaps not the best roleplaying choice to make. I love the idea of it though. I just wish people would talk to me, but no one seems to care to. I can’t say I blame them. It was the choice I made.

Amastrea, on the other hand, has gotten herself into brawls in the local tavern, took a lovely stroll in Eversong with a handsome fellow mage, and managed to offend one of the local Blood Knight officials, and she does it all while barefoot!

Character sheet

Role playing is something that I’m fairly new to. Like most new things, I’m absolutely terrified. I finally got up the nerve to write up a character description and turn on my FlagRSP2.

I introduce you to Amaiya:

Amaiya

Pale as death, her skull held together by bands of riveted black leather, greasy purple-black hair a matted mess, it is still apparent from subtle hints in her appearance that she was once a great beauty. Her lips, while pale, are still a perfectly shaped cherub’s smile, despite the glisten of spittle as she drools. The only thing marring the flawlessness of her creamy skinned face, are the bands of leather. Beneath the mess of rusted and torn chain mail that she wears, her flesh has fared equally well in preservation, despite the way her body is oddly slumped forward. She carries a tattered sword and shield