Tag Archives: azeroth’s most hapless blood elf

Did I Ever Tell You Guys About How Baby Althalor Is Internet Famous

I can’t remember.  Did I?  Perhaps I did.  It was a long time ago.

Seven years ago, to be precise.

World of Warcraft was still everywhere in those days because there were 12 million subscribers.  It was a pop culture phenomenon.  So it a pretty common thing for comedy articles taking the piss out of it to exist.  Such as this one on Cracked.

cracked 1Oh hey, look, it’s a baby hunter posing with The Rake in Mulgore.  You know, I did that once…

…with a blood elf who looks suspiciously like the one in the picture…

…wait a minute…


That’s Althalor.

Forever immortalized on the internet at level ten.  Poor guy.

Hey, he’s still got that cat!

WoWScrnShot_090915_093830 (2)

So I Don’t Know If This is a Bug or What, But…

Crown of the Fire Festival is now transmoggable!

This is a prize from the Fire Festival holiday event, and up until now, it was really only good for selfie and screenshot purposes because you couldn’t transmog into it.  But as of yesterday’s patch, well… let’s just say Althalor is even prettier than usual now!

CN6rq3PUsAA7WBp.jpg largeSo if you have this item lying around, and want to look pretty at ALL TIMES… go for it!

This wasn’t in any sort of patch notes so it may be a bug rather than a feature.  In that case, enjoy it while it lasts!

Why Taking a Break Was Good For Me

As all three (or maybe four?) of you long-time readers left know, I quit playing WoW for several years and thus left this blog to unceremoniously sit for just as long.  Sometimes I wonder if I should have kept playing so I could keep blogging, because I do so love blogging.  But, ultimately, I’m glad I took that break.

See, recently I’ve been seeing a lot of people both on Twitter and in blogs talking about how they’re growing tired of, or bored with, the game.  And then here I am, over here in my corner, having a blast and in general being content with my life in Azeroth.

And you know, I think it’s because I walked away for so long.  I walked away and now that I’m back I’m looking at it with fresh eyes.

It’s not the same as it was back when I first started, no.  It will never be quite that magical again.  But sometimes I think it can get pretty close.  (In fairness, I might be biased, because I am very easy to please.)

Even Althalor is easy to please.  In this case he's LUDICROUSLY HAPPY because there's a squid on his head.
Even Althalor is easy to please. In this case he’s LUDICROUSLY HAPPY because there’s a squid on his head.

So yes, I’m glad I took a break.  I’ve sort of… recalibrated my own thought process on the whole thing, if you will.  It used to be that I thought quitting WoW was sort of a huge deal, but now I treat it like any other game.  I can drop it for months – or years – at a time, and then I can come back again later whenever I want.  And you know what?  That’s okay.  Especially now that I can pay for a subscription just by logging in and poking my garrison for twenty minutes a day.

Breaks.  They work for me!

There’s Always Money in the Tel’Abim Banana Stand

these are my awards cadyAlthalor likes to collect little pets – probably because he likes animals (he’s a Beast Master, after all) and also because he’s a sensitive sucker for things that were orphaned like he was.  Then he shows them off to his best friend Cadyna.  Like so.  (And then she promptly pretends that she has no idea who he is.)

Cookies to all of you who get the reference in the quote!

This has been a Cop-Out Post brought to you by the fact that I’m going on vacation tomorrow so I’ve been running around getting ready for that.  I will be sans-WoW for a week but I plan on still writing lots of posts when I can.  See you guys on the other side!

[Story] Monster

Storytime! Today’s story stars my hunter Althalor and features a cameo by Mr. Pike’s mage, Cadyna!  Whoo!

Althalor was drunk.

He couldn’t remember how he had gotten himself this drunk in the first place, or why he was in Orgrimmar, or how he’d even wound up in the Brawl’gar Arena to begin with.  None of it mattered, though, as he riddled the colossal silithid in front of him with arrow after arrow while his cat Hobbes raked deep claws into the enormous insect’s back.  The silithid reared up and lunged, and Althalor ran to one side and skillfully planted an arrow between the creature’s eyes.  And with that, it finally stumbled and fell, the blood from its many now grievous wounds pooling onto the floor.

Althalor’s vision was swimming but he managed to drag himself out of the arena, where the crowd– mostly orcs, although there were smatterings of other races here and there– had been whipped up into a frenzy.  They loved seeing fresh meat, especially when said fresh meat somehow managed to climb into the higher echelons of the Brawler’s Guild rankings where the enemies were even nastier.   They especially loved seeing an elf fight (and then, of course, die)– that was a truly exotic spectacle that the goblins loved to hype up.

Someone– Althalor didn’t see who– handed him a tankard full of ale, which he promptly downed, although much of it landed on the floor, on his person, and on Hobbes, much to the great cat’s patient chagrin.  The next match would be in a few moments when the floor was cleared, so while Althalor waited he stumbled over to a table in a remote corner and nearly fell into the chair.

He was, on some deep and still vaguely lucid level, aware of the irony of the entire situation.  He was dressed smartly in the mails of a Thalassian ranger, and he wielded a weapon emblazoned with the sin’dorei Icon of Blood.  These were things he had taken with him to Draenor to remind him from whence he came.  But here he was, drunk, caved up in a dirty orcish hovel in Kalimdor of all places, and surrounded by orcs and trolls and goblins.  It was all a far cry from the lush, eternal springtime and refinement of Quel’Thalas.

And yet this was where his people belonged now, wasn’t it?  They were monsters; Arthas had made sure of that when he’d poisoned the Sunwell and then Kael’thas had driven a final nail in that coffin.   He had killed thousands of people in battles across Azeroth and beyond, and his eyes glowed green with the light of hellspawned demons.  No, this is what he was now.  Some kind of demon; some monster.  Perhaps it wasn’t so ironic after all.

A huge, burly orc, who towered above even most other orcs in the city, seemingly materialized from the shadows in front of Althalor’s table.  “You’re going to have to stop winning, elf,” he spat.  “I’ve got a lot of gold riding on the next match.”

Althalor’s head buzzed and most of the orc’s words went through one ear and straight out the other.  “What?” he said at length, his speech slurred.

The orc slammed both of his large hands on the table and leaned down so he was almost at eye level with Althalor.  His breath smelled of booze and tooth decay.  “I’ve got more gold on this next match than your pathetic long-eared life is worth.  You are going to lose it, or you are going to answer to me.”

Despite his blurred vision, Althalor could now see that the gigantic orc was flanked by two others, both with their arms crossed against their chest.  Beside him, his sharp hearing picked out the familiar, deep rumble of Hobbes’ growl amidst all the noise and chaos in the building.

The head orc was talking again.  “I suggest you forfeit, to make things easier for both of us,” he said.  He looked down at Hobbes, who was now bearing his teeth.  “And take that cat with you, before I skin him.”

That did it.  Althalor pushed back his chair, stumbled to his feet and reached for his bow, dodging an immense swing from the huge orc as he did so, although he clumsily dropped the bow as he performed this dodge.  His head swimming with alcohol and terrible judgement, he raised his fists, but then he was aware of one of the orc’s buddies at his side and a second later everything was black.


“Dor shar’adore da shando.”*

The Thalassian phrase was the first thing Althalor heard upon waking up.  He had the headache of a lifetime and his ears both rang.  He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was lying down in a bed somewhere.  He tried to sit up, his eyes still shut tight, but something pushed him back down.  “Hey dere, you sit tight, mon.  Dere’s still a lotta healin’ to be done.”

“I’d like a word with him alone, if you don’t mind,” said the first voice.  Althalor recognized it now.  Sunwell save me.

“He still needs de doctah, but I tink I can give him a break,” said the second voice.  Althalor painfully opened his eyes now in time to see a tall, lanky troll witch doctor stand up and stretch his back.  He then exited what appeared to be a small, orc-styled burrow– they were probably still in Orgrimmar, then– and that’s when Cadyna approached.

The mage looked down at him, one long, elegant eybrow raised inquisitively.  “You idiot,” she said at length.  “What do you think you were doing trying to fight that orc?”

“Um… I don’t know,” Althalor said at length.  He knew his response sounded pathetic but his head was throbbing too much to put much thought into the real reason.

“Well, you’re lucky I showed up when I did,” Cadyna replied, crossing her arms.  “And you’re lucky Hobbes was willing to fight for you even when you were out cold like the fool you are.  By the Sunwell.”

It was then that Althalor noticed that Hobbes was curled up on the foot of the bed, and he smiled, despite himself.  “Good kitty,” he said quietly.

“What are you doing in the Brawler’s Guild to begin with?  It may be news to you, but we’re kind of, oh I don’t know, fighting a war on another world?  Sound familiar?”

Althalor painfully propped himself up in bed.  “They wanted a good fight,” he said.  “I was giving them one.”

“They wanted you dead,” Cadyna said.  “It’s all well and good to be blood buddies with Vol’jin but down here, do you think they care about one fewer sin’dorei in the world?”  Her eyes glowed a harsh green as she spoke, but now she sighed.  “Anyhow.  That troll is doing some… voodoo or something, so I’ll let him get back in here.  We can portal out later.  Don’t make me babysit you anymore, okay?  I’ve already got enough idiots wandering around my garrison.  Can’t even clean the latrine properly.” She was still muttering to herself as she exited, and the witch doctor came back in.

Althalor lay himself back down as he approached.  The troll struck up a conversation as he mixed some herbs together in a poultice.  “Bruddah, I hearin’ what dey be sayin’ at the arena.  Dey say some stupid elf fought like a monster late last night.  Dat be you?”

Stupid elf monster.

“Sounds about right,” said Althalor.


*Thalassian, “I’m surrounded by idiots”


Pike’s Three Easy Tips For Making The Most of Your SELFIE Camera

I have seen a couple of people mention that they aren’t a big fan of the camera because they dislike the silly faces that their character makes.  That’s fair, but selfies go beyond that.  Want my advice?  Here’s my advice:

1.) Take off your shoulders.  They can get in the way.

2.) Take off your hat, unless you’re specifically going for Silly Hat Day.

WoWScrnShot_040615_0510593.) Experiment with emotes.   Not only will emotes show up on your selfie, but the emotes can also combine with the default “selfie expressions” for often hilarious results.


Still not a fan?  That’s fine – I can’t imagine that the selfies are for everyone.  But seriously, don’t write ’em off before trying my above tips.  More than once.  When you manage to snag just the right expression, you won’t regret it.

What are YOUR selfie tips?

Check Out These Sick Polygons

Weird thing about playing a ten year old game: when stuff that is blatantly 10+ years old crosses with new stuff.  Example: Weather-Beaten Fishing Hat on an updated character model.

"Yeah brah, check this out"
“Yeah brah, check this out”

Another example: flying around mountains in the old world that are textured by, like… a 10×10 pattern copied ten million times.

And yes, I know, “time is money friend” and so on.  Mostly I just think it’s hilarious, to be honest!

Also I couldn’t think of anything else to blog about, so you get belfies.  Because when all else fails, I’m gonna give you belfies because my belf is a cutie.


Also known as “Thalassian Ear-Warmers”

althalor scarf 3It’s a bit nippy at the garrison in Frostfire Ridge.  How’s a young blood elf supposed to keep his ears warm?  Althalor has hit upon the answer, and the answer, my friends, is socks.

Seriously though, has anyone ever thought about the logistical problems caused by elf ears?  Stuffing them in a helmet has got to be awfully uncomfortable, but otherwise they are at the mercy of both the elements and the enemy.

Clearly socks are the answer.  Ratchets, my up’n’coming goblin hunter, is already planning to bring a whole crate of them to Silvermoon and market them as Thalassian Ear-Warmers.  Stay tuned.

Sometimes I Draw Dumb Pictures

althalor smugfaceAlthalor only wishes that he could be this smugface in real life.  In reality he’d rather not deal with most people.  All he really wanted was to stay home and hide with lynx cubs and dragonhawk hatchlings.  Unfortunately extenuating circumstances made that prospect rather unlikely.  Thanks Arthas.

Actually probably what happened is that he was giving his squirrel Nuts an “I told you so” look during a pet battle, at which point Nuts turned around and lobbed an acorn at his head.  (This has actually happened in game.)

Anyways, yes.  A smugface.  Heh.