The first thing that hit me was the speed  - the tank was off & running while I was still chatting to the quest givers. But everyone did say hello at least (after I said Hi first of course).

I caught up with the tank & he was still alive – thank goodness. Quickly shielded him & then hit penance for good measure- I don’t even think he needed it since he was probably heirloomed to the hilt (I must be the only person left in game who for some reason still hasn’t got many heirloomed characters).

Didn’t have the nameplates set up as raid frames so that was tricky – I was looking at numbers & could barely see the health bar. But was too nervous to try & change it mid run. So I made the best of things - liberally PowerWord Shielding like an overprotective mother & casting Penance whenever anyone’s numbers so much as hinted they might drop.

And I chased, chased & chased – the tank was single minded in his aim to get to the end of the run in minus ten seconds. I was terrified of losing him so looted nothing & rolled greed on everything because I could not afford even a split second to check out stats.

By the time we got to the ship I was exhausted & my hands were trembling. Ridiculous I told myself- it’s only the Deadmines. And basically shielding was doing all my work for me. But it was my first time as healer in a long time – I’d forgotten how scary it feels to be amongst other people in the game, other potentially highly critical people!

But I survived (and more importantly so did everyone else). And everyone was very nice at the end – they said thanks for the run etc. I sorted out my raid frames & I’m just about to go in again. But this time I’m going to try to remember to breathe.

So I tried SimCity. Totally different. Quite enjoyed it but now can’t prise husband off the game. He walks around the house fretting about fires and oil reserves (newsflash- as I type this he tells me his town hall has burned down and he has lost a department- he looks truly traumatized). Over cups of coffee he tells me about his expansion plans for the region. There is a gleam in his eye I find rather disturbing. It’s well & truly his game now –  I have admitted defeat.

Desperately I tried Assassin’s Creed. I’d bought it for husband for Xmas but he hadn’t really got into it. Neither did I. Fight combos that involve more that two buttons are out for me. In real life I frequently forget how to work my thumbs. I did not get far  but enjoyed the opening cut scenes.

Toyed with the idea of Civilisation. I used to love the original Civ. I invented the pyramid did you know. But in the end decided to try Fable III – it was for sale in town. Hmm. Really enjoyed the opening & the dialogue & the general look of the game but once I started fighting I started to dislike it. I found myself just banging X, or sometimes X, forward, release X (the timing of which often failed me) to do some rolling thing that was singularly unimpressive (since  I kept doing it wrong). I was also irritated by the dog barking at me all the time, instructing me to dig like some newly promoted canine foreman (I told him I’d left my spade at home). But what I really disliked the most was the movement and the camera angles.

In Fable III I found myself often facing the wrong way, running towards the camera instead of away from it, and running right through mobs as I hacked & slashed the air. This meant I then had to turn slowly around to get the ones I’d missed (nearly all of them of course) and that meant faffing around with my viewpoint. Oh it was just ridiculously complicated. For me anyway. I found myself yearning for WoW. I really have been spoiled with WoW. The camera is fixed permanently behind my character’s head unless I choose to do something crazy with my left mouse button  (which I never do – unless I’m in a panic or want to see how fetching I look in a new outfit). I go forward with W (yes I’m a keyboard mover   –  don’t knock it – it has built  muscles in my index finger that I never knew I had). When I veer left or right the camera goes with me. When I fight I can stand still unless I choose to move (which I don’t – I’m no jack in the box PvPer – I‘m a frozen in ice mouse clicker). And so today finds me with my WoW account back up & running, on a new server (I’ve made the decision not to try to level on a PvP server anymore –  frozen in ice mouse clickers do not fair well & nobody shows mercy, even when I wave). I have a level 8 (soon to be 9) blood elf rogue. She runs &  the camera follows, she  turns left & right  & the camera still follows. She never runs past me, giving me a sly little wink as she disappears off the  screen. In WoW I even enjoy the fighting (if the mobs helpfully stand in one place anyway).

Or WoW why do I leave you? When will I ever learn? I have to face facts – WoW has ruined me. It’s the only game that fits my particular (low level) skillset. And yes sometimes it gets tedious, sometimes it feels like I’ve done it all before, sometimes I cry when Auntie Bernice hands me the pie for the 999th time. But then I try something else and I remember why I’ve played it for so many years – despite all my shortcomings as a player.  The grass is always greener I know - but not when you have to press three buttons or swivel god knows what just to see it properly. It’s not you Xbox games – it’s me. I’ve given my heart to another & it has spoiled me forever.

I’ve tried & tried to fall in love  with WoW again but it’s not working. I’m bored. My subscription expired last week & I’m reluctant to renew it since the truth is I don’t want to play it anymore (apart from logging on to say hi to the guild) . This means I have an MMO sized gap in my life, and this gap is staring to feel Eve sized.  So yesterday I took the plunge & renewed my Eve subscription.

After downloading various patches I was finally in. I’d pretty much forgotten everything about the game – including who I was, who I was trying to build standing with and why. But after about 15 mins some of it (not all …far from all as you’ll see) came flooding back. I was doing  Distribution missions but with a long term goal of R&D. I was training skills to open up the  R&D missions, and doing Level 1 Distribution missions to increase my standing with the corp I wanted eventually to do R&D for. See I had a plan.

So I picked up a Level 1 Distribution mission from a Duvolle Lab agent. It all looked straight forward, but the mission details did say I would be passing through a low sec area if I used the automatic route. Ok I thought, never seen that before, but surely they wouldn’t really put me in danger for a Level 1 mission, would they? Surely it’s just an overly dramatic piece of text to give the mission some edge. Of course. That’s what it is.

So I accepted the mission, set destination, undocked & went on Automatic pilot, and picked up my book to read while I traveled through LOW SEC space.

Yes there are names for people like me. Don’t put them in the comments. You’ll hurt my feelings.

What happened next is a blur. First I glanced at the screen at one point and noticed it said in my overview that there was a corpse  nearby. Ooh interesting, I thought, never come across that before. The next thing I see is red text telling me I’ve done something foolish (umm, yes), there are some explosions, more red lines indicate my ship is in a rather dire condition, then I  jump somewhere and  it all seems to be over. I’m still in space, still flying.

Whew that was close, I thought. But not that bad. But then I notice I don’t have the usual shield & gun icons at bottom centre of my screen. Odd I think. Where have they gone? Then I look more closely at my ship…. there is no ship.  I am in my pod. How can a pilot lose their ship without realising it? Well I think you have to be a  special little pilot, a twp pilot (perfect Welsh word), a pilot like me. It would be a huge achievement for me to reach noob levels – I am in pre noob state – an Eve amoeba.

It dawned on me (finally) that no ship meant no cargo for my distribution mission. So that was over too. I’d braved low sec space for nothing. I arrived at my destination and  pondered what to do next. And this was where full blown craziness descended on me. I thought there was still a way I could do this. I had been given a new ship (a Reaper –  basic but functional). I looked at the map & wondered whether I could cobble together some sort of safe route back to collect the cargo again. But I was in Low Sec space. There was no safe route. The minute I undocked I was a sitting duck. So I … undocked. Of course I did. For some reason I thought the laws of the Eve universe meant I wouldn’t be attacked again & that I could get home safely. Yes this is the sort of naivety that means I should never be allowed to leave the house. So I undocked, clicked on the big A  (please Eve experts, stop rolling your eyes with such vigour- you really will hurt yourself) & yes – you guessed it, within seconds I was back in my pod waving goodbye to the shortlived Reaper. And within a few seconds more I was back in some hangar in a totally different part of space  being told I was dead but thank god I had a clone (yes thank god – I had randomly created clones when I last played Eve without any real idea of when I’d need to use them). So I’d failed the mission, lost two ships, been killed and was now a clone  - all within the first hour of returning to Eve.

I then spent the next two hours or so  jumping what felt like a zillion times trying to get a ship big enough to complete  just one “transport some soil” mission – first I tried a Reaper (another one) plus two expanded cargoholds (for which I had to jump  7 times to get to a market that sold them), then when that didn’t give me enough room (and yes I know I could have stayed where I was and tried a simple approach known as Maths to work out if Reaper plus Expanded Cargoholds would have been enough …but you’ll have gathered by now that logic isn’t my strongest point…and also thank goodness I gave up Accountancy!), I then found a way to search my assets scattered all over the Eve solar system & jumped twenty or so times to pick up my old Wreathe (which for some reason in the past I’d named Foxy????), and then jumped twenty or so times back to pick up my dirt, but then remembered I’d left half of it  back in the  ship I’d left in the hangar 20 or so jumps back and so… well you get the point.

Welcome back to Eve Michelle…

And yet…yet…it’s Sunday morning & I’m back on it again. Eve – the game for  illogical masochists perhaps  - in other words me. Have I found my new MMO home?

Continuous as the stars that shine
In Pandaland but high above,
They stretched before me, oh so fine,
A herbalist would fall in love:
As a skinning alchemist what to do?
To Sha Touched Leather say toodle-oo?

The bears and cats made “skin me” motions,
But the herbs promised more
In alchemy potions,
But as I gazed—and gazed—I very much thought
Of the gold and wealth old skinning had brought:

For when before the screen I sit
And watch my character I must admit,
My eyes seek out the icon of mail,
My skinning auctions never fail.

This is the bliss of the skinning profession;
And so then my heart is pleasure fed,
With thoughts of animals all quite dead.

So I’ve been thinking about what I miss about WoW & have narrowed it down to this:-

I miss many of the dungeons I’ve done a zillion times as dps & for some reason all of a sudden I want to do them all again. But I don’t just want to do them with a new character- I want to relive what it actually felt like when I did them a year or so ago- a time which seems to have been a sweet spot in my dungeon & WoW life.

In other words I want to go back in time. And creating an alt- which is a time machine of sorts I guess- just doesn’t cut it for me. You can never recapture that exact same feeling with an alt. I think that feeling was influenced by a multitude of things including the time I played,  what was on the TV in the background when I played, how I was feeling about my life at the time, even the way the light streaming in through the French windows hit my screen (which was also incidentally the reason I got lost so often- or at least that’s my excuse!).

There was a time when I felt happy…or at least comforted…by WoW & I want that time back. But I don’t know how to get it. And maybe you shouldn’t look for comfort in a game anyway? Is that healthy? I have no idea. But there was something magical about a year or so ago when I played WoW- everything about the game interested me, I loved my characters, I loved the dungeons, I loved levelling, I loved gearing, I loved the sounds of Stormwind, I loved guild chat, I loved my time on the game – it made me happy.

I want to flick a switch & get all that back again, but I have absolutely no idea how. All I know is I have a very strong compulsion to log in & play & see where it all takes me. Maybe I can’t relive the past- but maybe I still have new WoW experiences ahead of me that will bring the same, if not more, pleasure? I guess there’s only one way to find out.

It’s not easy being an angel’s apprentice, as Owen is soon to find out. He has recently entered the Malak, an angel academy set up by angels cast out of heaven for displeasing God (casting out was God’s last resort, he had tried making them sit at the foot of the heavenly stairs). The academy angels have high expectations – particularly around mop control (you must never mop with the stick end of the mop – it is absolutely forbidden). And this is nothing compared to what Owen now faces on his mission for the “Greatest Angel of the Land” (title patented by said Angel). For one thing the mission is not very nice. It involves a decapitated head. And for another he is accompanied by a dragon with a tendency to talk too much. And finally it involves uncovering a dark secret, a secret that threatens the very fabric of the universe (yes once again the fabric of the universe is threatened – it’s clearly not a very tough fabric – but what can do? If you argue back with God he makes you sit at the foot of the stairs.)

Yes this is The Guardian Spirit, Part 1: The Angel’s Apprentice – the first part of a new fantasy humor series. Part 2 (The Splintering) will be available in Spring 2013 and the final part (The Fall of the King) will be out this Autumn.

If you like books about angels (particularly angels with obsessive compulsive disorder), books about dragons (particularly dragons with an unacceptable crush on a princess with a secret) and books about a monkey king (particularly one who wields a pick and NOT a wrench) then happily this is the book for you

It’s on Amazon.Com here & Amazon.Uk here

If you read & like it please please leave a review! Thanks.

Vengeance sprees, angst, laments and fun Saturday afternoons at the archery range – I have a little arrangement with the owner. He gives me humans to play with. I like it when they run.

And what do you look for in a partner?

Well like I say I like a good spree and I need a man (or woman – I’m very open to most things … apart from gnomes of course…but that goes without saying- even gnomes hate gnomes) to keep up with me in the spree department. Basically if they can shoot an arrow and are good in the kitchen (I need a shitload of Forsaken Blight and the herbs bring on my allergies) then in return I will bring him or her tea and toast in bed every Sunday. And the odd decapitated head. Just to keep it real, ya get me?


Any personal goals you’d like to share with prospective partners?

Well killing Arthas was a goal of course. Arthas murdered my people and turned me into this monstrosity – although I do have killer abs and a butt to die for …in fact I did die for it…haha. But Arthas and I had some fun times too of course – there was always a hint of sexual tension between us – even when we were trying to kill each other. We were the Richard Burton and Liz Taylor of Azeroth- but with more blood and madness (…I think… although Burton was Welsh wasn’t he?). And other goals…hmmm- well plastic surgery of course. There’s a great surgeon in Silvermoon apparently. Doing a ton of butt lifting there- although not sure how much more butt lifting my blood elf brethren can take. But this doctor can apparently remove the undead look – I mean who wants to be a weird blue colour? I’m not some bloody smurf. It’s a flesh transplant of some sort – I don’t understand the details but it uses elekk flesh – which is not going down too well with the Draenei – but to be frank no one gives a shit about them.

What’s chat up line do you use?

“We are the Forsaken. We will slaughter anyone who stands in our way. Now buy me a drink dreadlord.”


And best chat up line ever used on you?

Umm – “ON YOUR KNEES” – in a very commanding voice.  Like many modern undead females I like to be dominated. I also appreciated the conscientiousness of the guy who said “May my aim be true” – it was.

Guiltiest secret?

I once got drunk and sang a dirty version of the Lament of the Highbourne. I replaced Anar’alah with Anus and  Sin’dorei with schlong and …well you get the picture. I’m not proud.

What do you do for fun or to relax?

War and vengeance every time. The Horde will be victorious. We will find our own path in this world and slaughter anyone who stands in our way. Oh and I like to shop for shoes of course. I love shoes, the higher the better. And they HAVE to have a closed toe so that my weird undead blue toes are covered up. I hate looking at my undead toes. I have GOT to give that plastic surgeon a call- I mean summer’s coming & summer means sandals right – even in bloody Gilneas.

Final words to any readers out there who might be thinking of giving you a call?

Don’t hesitate to get in touch. I’ll respond to all messages.  We can meet up for a drink.  And yes of course I will set my Vrykul girls on you if  disappoint me in some way – but don’t let that stop you getting in touch. After all deep down I’m just a misunderstood troubled soul who’s really really good in bed – and that’s not something many can resist is it? And remember NOW is the time of the Forsaken. Power to the Forsaken – NOW AND FOREVER.  Give me a call – this could be something special.

Not for the easily offended – and I might even be pushing it with the hard to offend – but heyho

Want something WoW-related to say to your beloved when you’re in the throes of passion? I’m not going to ask why – I’ll assume you have your reasons & will just offer you the following suggestions:-

Top 12  suggestions for Sex Talk Azeroth Style- The Mage version (other classes to follow)

1. Let me portal you to the vale of eternal blossoms – ok slightly cheesy admittedly

2. You ignite my passions – cheesier still

3. I want to frostburn your arse – ok that’s slightly scary- remember your safe word

4. Do you want to see my living bomb explode? – this might set rather high expectations 

5. Excuse my Dragon’s Breath – for the morning after

6. Damnit I have a frozen orb – usually when you’re trying something alfresco

7. I can’t do that anymore, I have frostjaw – does not need explanation

8. I’m approaching critical mass – always polite to give fair warning

9. Damn you & your icy veins – if he/she refuses to cuddle afterwards

10. Can I summon a water elemental? – a polite way of asking for a threesome

11. I blinked and missed it – a tactful response to one who “arrives early”

12. Have you got any ointment for my ring of frost – no comment  (but I am giving a sympathetic wince)

FADE OUT

I am writing to demand compensation for the romantic mini-break I foolishly booked in your grotesque little town. My wife and I have just returned from a weekend of pure hell in what you claimed was the most romantic place in all of Azeroth. I can assure you Sir, there was no romance in Duskwood (except for the occasional flirty glances Commander Althea threw my way when the wife wasn’t looking …but that’s besides the point).

My wife and I booked a room in the Scarlet Raven tavern after receiving your flyer through the door promising us peace, seclusion, a roaring log fire and a dinner of tasty crab cakes. Imagine then our horror when we first arrived at the inn. We were told that before we could even check in we needed to go out and collect the ingredients for our evening meal! And what ingredients – yes here comes the second bombshell – the crab cakes were made of spider legs! I have never come across such a thing in all my life. I mean horsemeat in Findus beef lasagnes yes – I’m a man of the world – I’ve heard of these things. But spider meat in crab cakes?! It beggars belief.

But out we went. And oh my poor wife – she had never held a weapon in all her life but off she ran with her dagger poised at the ready to try to take out the required number of spiders … and wolves too – beautiful Althea asked us to kill twelve of them – which I was only too happy to do for her of course. But then that bloody cook came along and took total advantage of us by demanding we also being back five wolf steaks for the evening meal. We don’t even eat red meat! (Mind you up until my weekend in Duskwood I didn’t eat spider legs either … now I can’t get enough of the little fellas, but anyway I digress….)

Yes my poor wife was out there with the dagger hacking away at whatever wolf or spider she could find. She was becoming infected by rabies and spider poison by the second. I could see it all from my position up a tree… I have arachnophobia you see, so unfortunately I couldn’t help out at all. She was in helluva state. As the poisons took their toll so her coordination became affected – in the end she was just lunging blindly in all directions. Thankfully I was there shouting words of encouragement from the tree (and telling her how many she had left to kill) and I think it spurred her on (although she got a bit carried away by the end and even put the dagger to my throat- don’t know what was going on there).

So finally she’s done it and we go back to the inn to hand everything over. By now, well you can imagine, I really want a hot bath and a lie down before supper (the wife is bawling her eyes out however and screaming she needs a doctor, but I put that down to time of the month and just offer her some chocolate….out comes the dagger again…bloody hormones). Anyway, we are then told there is more work for us to do before we can even see our room, more things to kill, more errands to run. By then I’ve had enough. “We’re not doing anymore,” I say firmly, “Come on Betty time to leave.” I think she understood me – but by now she was frothing at the mouth and blood was pouring from her eyeballs … she didn’t look her best I have to say and I was more than a little tempted by Althea when we walked by – but I’m a man who honours his marriage vows (unless it’s with someone who takes money for her services – that doesn’t count) and to the flight master we went to arrange our flight home.

So I’m sure you can understand why I’m seeking compensation. The holiday was far from what you advertised. If you do not reply favourably I will have no option but to take this further. The only bright spot of the whole weekend was running into that lovely chap Abercrombie. We did a few errands for him (well I did anyway – the wife was having seizures by this point) during a stop over at Raven Hill. Says a lot about your town that you’d leave a lovely old man to rot away in that shack – where’s your charity, where’s the town spirit? Anyway I left him practically dancing on the spot with all the things I’d managed to get hold of for him (odd requests but like most old people he was a little quirky in his ways– you’ve got to indulge the old dears and hope that they remember you in their will) and I left with a warm glow in my heart feeling that I’d done some good in that godforsaken town of yours, although you far from deserve it.

Anyway I await your reply and hope for your sake it includes a cheque with plenty of zeroes (and a number in front of the zeroes- don’t go playing silly buggers with me).

Yours expectantly

Mr G.R.Edie