The trading post rewards this month included a lot of transmog that I just absolutely adore, AND this mount, the Forsaken’s Grotesque Charger. There’s also a version of it for sale in purple from the trading post, which I picked up (of course). I think it’s really pretty, and while I do tend to stick to my usual mounts, I’m sure I’ll be using it here and there.
It’s a slow period in World of Warcraft right now, at least as far as my sales are concerned. That’s not a bad thing, the market ebbs and flows and I know that this slower portion will eventually turn around to some bigger sales eventually. I’m currently posting around 100-150 items across 20 different North American servers. It includes a mixture of full/medium/low servers, and is mostly transmog, pets, and recipes. I rarely ever (ie: never) deal in current-tier sales, which I know is where the bigger money is at, but I’m nothing if not patient and consistent.
There’s so many events going on in World of Warcraft at the moment that I was almost paralyzed with indecision over what to work on first – but I did get a LOT done, and I’m quite happy with the progress I made.
First up – I did install Classic Catalysm, and I created a Pandarean Monk to complete the Mists of Pandaria pre-event that rewards you with a mount in the regular version of the game. This was INCREDIBLY painful! It took hours, and was nothing but a reminder of why I play retail and NOT classic. I died more doing that starter (I also made the mistake of going tank, I had 2 skills I could use the whole time, ouch) than I have in the last year of retail, I think. I did manage to reach level 12, completed the starter island, picked a faction, and received my mount in retail. Worth it? Well, if you enjoy collecting things, yes.
Next – I took a good number of my level 80 characters through LFRaid and did their weekly chores, which includes professions. I also did timewalking on each of them, and the delve weekly. They have their belts, so I also upgraded them (the first week I did this I had no idea I was supposed to use the quest reward ON the belt to level it up, whoops).
Timewalking – It is the burning crusade, and I have done a LOT of timewalking this week. The goal was to level up roughly 1 character each day from 70-80 through timewalking. First, I leveled up a paladin on my EU account. I love playing my EU account but once I was 80 I realized I would have to do all of the story for The War Within to unlock the weekly quests, and honestly, I just wasn’t up for that so I swapped back to my NA account. I leveled up my shaman, death knight, rogue, and I’m currently working on a druid. I love timewalking. Not much to say about that.
With all of these new level 80 characters I’ve also been participating in the collector’s bounty event that Blizzard has going on right now. There are a lot of mounts I’m missing and of course I love to collect transmog as well. Having completed M+ in previous expansions I had some ports, like Freehold, that all 80 characters could use. So I would just port them to the dungeon and clear the zone in 2 minutes and hope I got the parrot that I’ve been trying to get for some time now.
On my 8th run – it dropped! I was so very excited. I’m not sure what other mounts I plan on going after, but I really think this collector’s bounty is a neat idea. I’ve also picked up a few addons for it that easily track what I’m missing and where I need to go for them. Of course as always, travel is the longest part. Especially since I’m running multiple characters all over the place.
Anyway, I’ll get back to gold making posts soon – for now, I’m just having a lot of fun playing the game. Happy gaming no matter where you find yourself!
I was only trying to queue for the cooking daily.
One click too many and—poof—I was standing in the upper reaches of Hellfire Citadel, wrapped in the vaguely sulfurous scent of The Blood Furnace, wondering why I’d equipped my tea-stirring spoon instead of my proper staff.
“Wait, are you the healer?” asked the draenei paladin at the front, squinting at me as though I might still poof away.
“Er. Yes! That’s me. Auremai. Mistweaver monk, mostly merchant, occasional healer,” I said, bowing. “I dabble.”
The group charged ahead before I could elaborate, which was probably for the best because my last healing run had been before Deathwing redecorated the planet.
I took a deep breath and shifted into mistweaver stance, letting the familiar flow of chi swirl through me. It was like riding a gryphon: you never really forget… but that first jump still makes you question your life choices.
The first pull? A lesson in humility. And combustion.
I targeted the wrong person, cast Life Cocoon on the rogue who hadn’t taken any damage, and managed to roll directly into a Firebomb.
“Gnome down! Gnome down!” the mage laughed, while I extinguished myself with a small squeal and a health potion that tasted like burnt pennies.
But I didn’t give up.
Monks fall, monks rise. And monks—especially gnome monks with a sense of misplaced confidence—improvise.
I planted my Jade Serpent Statue this time (in the right direction!), let Renewing Mist dance through the group like a breeze, and used Vivify so fast my fingers blurred. The tank, bless him, only died once more after that.
“Getting the hang of it, shortstuff,” the rogue grinned after we survived a rather dramatic encounter with a room full of technicians who really needed a union.
“Thanks,” I muttered, cheeks warm, as I ducked behind my cartwheel to dodge another Fel Nova. “Just… channeling the mist. And mild panic.”
By the time we reached Keli’dan the Breaker, I had settled into the rhythm: soothe, roll, heal, repeat. The boss ranted something about destruction, but all I could think about was how very rude it was to yell indoors.
When he finally exploded in a spectacular burst of fel energy (and flair), everyone stood—somehow still alive. Even the mage.
We looted in silence, the good kind, and the paladin finally gave me a thumbs-up. “Not bad for someone who said they ‘dabble.’”
I shrugged, blushing as I tucked a small healing charm into his bag when he wasn’t looking. “Helping people is the easy part. It’s the not panicking that takes training.”
Back in Stormwind, I climbed onto my cart, pulled out my notebook, and jotted down a new idea: Love in the Time of Felfire. Maybe with a paladin and a baker trapped in a fortress together…
Maybe next time I’d heal on purpose. But for now? I had tea, a story brewing, and no scorch marks.
A pretty good day, all told.
The feed had gone galactic.
Live relays from New Eden’s largest newsnets flickered across the command deck of the Kinetic Regret, each one centered on the bright burning corpse of the 1DQ1-A Imperial Palace—the Imperium’s long-standing Keepstar, now in its final moments. Years of history, thousands of pilots’ stories, and enough market tax revenue to fund a small war were vanishing in a hail of ceremonial autocannon fire.
The terms of the sendoff had been simple: bring a Rifter.
And bring Rifters they did. Over 3,800 pilots descended on the Keepstar in a rust-colored swarm, celebrating the final breath of the station that had, for so many, meant something. Top damage and the final blow were both delivered by Rifters, as per tradition.
There were no dread bombs. No gate camps. Just a mass of enemies and allies, sitting shoulder to shoulder in tribute.
Except, of course, for Pandemic Horde.
Back in E8-4, Captain Gobbins stood at the front of the deck, holding a datapad with far too much smugness for a man in Crocs and a ratting shirt. He tapped the display like it was a punchline.
“No way,” he said, grinning. “We stole the 1DQ Imperial Palace Keepstar Core. And got away with it. LMAO.”
The bridge crew exchanged glances. Someone coughed, uncomfortably.
“Massive props to Nestor X85, by the way,” Gobbins continued, undeterred. “Dude just yoinked it right out from under them. In front of three thousand Rifters.” He let the number hang in the air like a trophy. “Imagine going to a funeral and coming back with the casket.”
Ensign Brin cleared her throat. “Sir, if I may… that Keepstar was—”
“A monument to hubris, Brin,” Gobbins cut in. “Let’s not forget what they did with that thing. Endless ganks. Nullbloc politicking. Remember when they charged 3% market tax and called it a deal?”
“Still,” she said cautiously, “it was meant as a tribute. To an old director of theirs, I heard. The Rifter thing was symbolic. An homage.”
Gobbins waved his hand dismissively. “If they wanted it to be sacred, they shouldn’t have left the core in. That’s like building a shrine and forgetting to lock the donation box.”
From the corner, Gallente Citizen 4586793463 blinked, then returned to typing quietly. The title on their notepad: “When a Warlord Steals the Gravestone.”
“I’m just saying,” Gobbins went on, pacing now, “this sends a message. We’re not just winning on the map. We’re winning in the mind. Every Rifter in that system was firing blanks. We were taking.”
He held up the datapad again. A grainy image of the core being dragged out of the dying station, pixelated and triumphant.
“No structure is sacred,” he said. “No space is safe. And no farewell is without cost.”
“Sir,” Brin said after a moment. “Should we… say anything? You know, public comms. Condolences, or…”
Gobbins raised an eyebrow. “You want me to issue a condolence ping for a Keepstar we robbed during its funeral?”
“…Right,” Brin muttered. “Never mind.”
The bridge fell quiet again. Outside the viewport, a Rhea freighter drifted past—likely full of “salvaged” Keepstar fittings. The war went on. The map changed. And in some forgotten subchannel, three thousand Rifter pilots raised a toast to the fire they’d lit, unaware that the core had gone missing while their backs were turned.
A Pixel Nomad 