Wednesday, 1 June 2011

Confessions of a Huntard

Heres a tip: when Warcrafts new expansion comes out don’t do what I did and suddenly fall out of favour with the character you had painstakingly leveled to 80 geared, gem’ed and glyph’ed, deciding instead to level an old level 55 alt. Dont do it – for a start you would be copying me and that would be weird – but also you will have to, as I did, play through all the old content of the previous two games before you can join all your friends in new and shiny land.

Where am I going with this? well that was my long-winded self-rant way of saying WOO MY HUNTER DINGED 85! go team…

this, of course, means its time to get ready for endgame which for many people is where the game actually starts… thus did my dwarf venture forth into the layer of madness we call… five mans! which leads to the unfortunate realisation; in my many months of race/class/role changing and solo questing… my hunter has become, a huntard! But the first step to getting help is to admit you have a problem right? Thus this blog will be a hopefully amusing look at my rediscovery of the class I love the Dwarven gun slingin’ beast mastering hunter!

But why the sudden confession of n00bishness? I hear you cry (which you shouldnt because it bad form to start a paragraph with but… so im told.) well in one word, traps… I’m crappin’ traps! (More on that later!)

To be more specific, my whole UI and playstyle has become so inefficient and suited to solo play that my first run (thankfully with Guildies) was a comedy of errors I knew what I was supposed to be doing but all my tools (and an 85 hunter has a LOT of tools) are all over the place…

the first moment of huntardiness came curtsey of my razor naga mouse -a Godsend when i was tanking as a DK, my right thumb would dance through my rotation without a care in the world setting off spreading death and diseases without a care, as long as i was setting something off and keeping everyone’s attention on me, fine. Now however, i have a mob marked and CC requested, a tank about to make the pull and dps with itchy casting fingers… it is the absolute wrong time to miss the trap launcher located at button 8 and hit 5 thus arcane shooting the owl headed cat people we had snuck up on… in the face. Worse, my hunters dexterity may be off but his instincts are spot on, so as it begins to look like wipesville population: Us, I Misdirect and Feign Death like a master, and leave my guilides fuming as I stand up and survey the devastation. “Huntard!” …indeed.

Still we made it past that one and onto the next, and the aforementioned; crappin’ traps. You see at some point while soloing in Outland, the alien oxygen doing strange things too my tiny little mind, I decided I would place all my ranged attacks (of which trap launcher is one) on the 17 buttons on my mouse, and my pet and utility commands on the number row of the keyboard.

And-so it was that I found myself in Vortex Pinnacle, mid pull, managing pet, focus, dps, and tricky fight mechanics. Because of (or more likely despite) my best efforts, we made it out the other side of some really ticked off air elementals with ease, not bad thinks I, until my friend the tank turns round and, down the headset, laughs his head off , because as my left hand wildly stabs at kill command, rapid fire, and hunters mark I’ve gone astray a few times and my dwarf is now standing in the middle of Vortex Pinnacle looking like a proverbial Christmas Tree, and Santa has delivered… my whole compliment of traps beneath me 6 times over. Worse; our every previous pull can be traced back along the colourful breadcrumb trail of beartraps… “huntard…” indeed.

So what have we learnt kids? well that while it’s certainly possible to do a quite bit of soloing with your toolbars all over the place and the practiced muscle memory of a death knight tank, this newly maxed huntard has got several UI columns to read and a bartender to have a word with before he even thinks about those purples, because his long-suffering guild-mates might get RSI from rolling their eyes at this rate.

Oh and next time you hop in a handy whirlwind jump, bring a step-ladder? you see there’s a 4 foot dwarf atop a 10 foot pile of his own traps, and he can’t remember which ones got the snakes in…

but in the meantime

…swear Allegiance!

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