It has recently come to our attention that the very popular schematics used to make toy mechanical squirrels have a critical flaw in their malachite fusion reactor shielding system. This came to light upon further investigation of the actual cause of the Gnomeregan disaster. Please discontinue using your squirrel immediately and take it, very slowly and carefully, to your local gnomish engineer for readjustments. If you've been spending time near your squirrel, please consult a physician before trying to have children. We apologize for any disruptions this may cause in your squirrel-based fun and/or in being alive.
Night elf women aren't cute. They're overtly faux-sexual in a supermodel sort of way. Now gnomish women, we're ten pounds of cute in a five pound bag.
I'd like to think us hunters are the perverbial goddesses of the world. Then again, I'm biased.
Perverbial? Don't tell me you night elves are so sick you have perverted verbs as well. What's wrong with plain verbs and adverbs? You need a special category of words just to modify the sex act?
Gnomish Booty Dancing™ is unmatchable in its raw, cardinal sexuality and unbridled eroticism. I miss the days when we would have all-night raves in the launch room in Gnomeregan.
I'm all for cross-faction cooperation. I strive to remain on good terms with opposing faction warlocks, always saluting them out of professional courtesy and occasionally helping them if it's clear what they're up to. I think that building such bridges is essential to maintaining the peace, and goodness knows we don't want to be fighting each other when the forces of ultimate darkness from the outer void come to raze our puny speck of a world and obliterate all life forever.
Generally speaking, I try to avoid making dishes that require murdering sentient beings to prepare, such as Westfall Stew, with its Murloc Eye requirements. (And there's also Murloc Fin Soup. Damn, those guys are tasty). I'm not picky, though. I'll eat most anything. Us gnomes are hungry things due to our fast metabolism. I do stay away from Carrion Surprise; I think the surprise is actually intestinal parasites.
One of my beta toons was a gnome warlock. There was just something wrong with that cute cute face and sucking the life force out of someone. :)
I have no idea what you're talking about. <sluuuurrrp>
I don't think I've ever encountered anti-gnome prejudice in-game. I'm just too darn cute to hate. My guild even acknowledges me as the resident badass. After all, if, at my size, I can kill things the size of buildings, I must be dangerous.
Make a gnome… they are awesome with BBQ Dipping Sauce.
That's not BBQ sauce! That's the blood of my enemies! (Crud. Now I need to find a dry cleaner that won't damage enchantments…)
I only ever go to Darnassus on business. When I do, I make sure to ride around on my flaming demon horse as much as possible and thoroughly desecrate the place. It's okay, though, as I freed the soul of Cenarius's son in Maraudon, and he owes me big-time.
Much /comfort to the folk that were actually in one of those legendary strat/scholo/brd/brs raids that I hear so much about but never get a chance to go on. /cry
Legendary? They get to be kinda pedestrian after a while, at least the Stratholme ones. Why does everyone want to go to Stratholme? Why are you all seduced by the impossible lure of a bad-ass-looking epic mount for free? Scholomance isn't that bad; I just wish I could steal the cool goth makeup those gnomish necromancer girls have. As to BRS, I guess that qualifies as legendary. The only raid there I've seen forming up was at around 5 AM. Curiosity and greed teamed up to battle common sense and tiredness, but they sadly lost in the end, despite my being asked to come along three times while I sold off the crap from the last raid.
I don't use them because they are evil magic.
Nonsense! Think of them as recycling. We're just taking those souls that would otherwise go to waste and turning them into healthy, nutritious snacks that pick you up when you're down. They're all natural, with no added colors or preservatives (that's why they go bad when you log out).
Warlocks are more depraved than I realized. Do you realize how this interferes with the natural order of things? You steal souls and refer to them as snacks?
It's not the whole soul anyway, just a little shard. Souls are big and gooey. They pass through your digestive system unharmed, and continue with their eternalness later. We're just extracting a little more utility from them along the way. You'd think a druid of all people would be sympathetic to utilizing as much of a kill as possible instead letting it go bad.
The Blue Recluse is a wondrous place. Just mind the shadows in the Slaughtered Lamb. ;)
You're just jealous that we have a spacious underground storage facility and health spa complete with demon-summoning catacombs. Also, if you drop by, I highly recommend the house specialty of slaughtered lamb steeped in its mother's milk. De-lish!
I love being a warlock, but sometimes, the annoying bugs and random changes to spells get to be a bit much:
Blizzard: Don't worry, warlocks… We have lots of lemonade for you if you can be patient!
3 months later
Warlocks: What ever happened to that lemonade we were supposed to get?
Blizzard: It's coming—just be patient!
3 months later
Warlocks: Okay, this is ridiculous. Where the hell is our lemonade?!?
Blizzard: Ohh, yeah…uhhh…here it is!
Warlocks: …This is piss.
Blizzard: No it isn't. It's lemonade.
Warlocks: What the hell are you trying to pull?! Do you even have someone there taste-testing this for us?
Blizzards's Grape Juice Taste-Tester: Don't worry guys. Even though I'm really the grape juice taste-tester, I used to drink lemonade a long time ago. I figure that qualifies me to tell you what is and isn't lemonade.
Warlock: No, you aren't doing anything for us. You're all full of crap.
Taste-tester's friend: Look guys, it's lemonade. It may smell and taste like piss, but it really is lemonade. If you keep attacking us for serving you pi—lemonade, we're going to start taking your cups away.
I suggest the gnome mounts be made a little more silent. I feel almost ashamed bringing out my mount in night elf lands; it ruins the atmosphere. It really doesn't seem fair that our mounts are the number one cause of sound and air pollution.
My mount doesn't pollute. It's powered by clean-burning demonic essence that merely taints everything around it, including souls, for all eternity, but that's technically not pollution.
Over on the Argent Dawn forum, Crytin said:
Damnit Neni, you need to move that link into your sig. Everytime I click on it, without looking, I expect it to be something pertinent to the topic at hand. And everytime I go there, i'm compelled to read every damn thing you have to say.
MAKE IT STOP!
I wish I could, but the stupid sig is limited to only 52 characters total. (Despite the fact that the form on which one enters it claims that the limit is 128 characters—liars!) In order to put the URL down there, I'd have to take out the memorial to my fallen people, and that's just unacceptable. Their voices may have been silenced by radioactive fallout, madness-inducing leprosy, and rampaging troggs, but I will not be silenced for your convenience!
I had this crazy idea the other day: Maybe the only real difference between a Horde player and an Alliance player is that the Horde player thought it would be fun to play an Orc, Troll, Tauren or Undead, and the Alliance player thought it would be fun to play a Human, Night Elf, Dwarf or Gnome. Any other differences are incidental and unrelated to choice of faction.
I'm not sure, though. I'll have to run some tests, you know, draw a few samples and send them along to the lab. Don't let me get in the way of any bickering in the meantime, though. Don't want to spoil anybody's fun.
Nope, Rylle's hypothesis is wrong. While playing either of my two Alliance characters, I'm my normal, witty, erudite self. As soon as I log into my troll shaman, though, I immediately become a mouth-breathing low-life and every other word I mumble at the lower limit of comprehension is "zerg". Even if I just showered, I instantly turn filthy and unfit for human company. My IQ halves itself. I can think of nothing but PvP. I spontaneously develop a criminal record. All major religions excommunicate me. Toads rain from the sky. Hellfire shoots from the earth. The apocalypse is nigh, and all because I played a Horde character for a while. Please, don't let this happen to you!
My only problem with peoples epic mounts is that they tend to leave their epic poop all over Ironforge.
Warlock mounts, by virtue (or is that vice) of being on fire, leave only flaming poop, which burns away in a few minutes, dissipating to a mere foul stench and taint of demonic essence.
I try to always give people PvPing me time to regroup…unless they're level 60 Warlocks and they start to summon something, then they're down—I dunno if that's an Infernal on the way or what. *grins*
Cause after all, you know, killing them now saves them the durability loss from when the Infernal would do it twenty seconds from now. :)
Crytin, a friendly, harmless lunatic, requested the following.
Attention: Nenicirene!!! *Urgent* Nah. Not really urgent. But it *IS* part of my brilliant scheme.
It's come to my attention that you post virtually every topic that you post in on your website. And, in my attempt to take over the world, I will have you broadcast this.
ALL HOPE IS LOST. THE NEEDS OF MANY ARE OUTWEIGHED BY THE NEEDS OF TEH CRYTIN. SUBMIT. SWEAR YOUR UNDYING FEALTY TO ME, LORD CRYTIN OF THE ROBOTROX CULT.
....That is all. You have your orders, Neni. Do not dissapoint me. >:-(
I don't post *everything*, just the stuff that I feel is important and interesting enough to stand on its own. That amounts to most of it, but that's just reflective of my inflated sense of self-importance.
Anyway, there you go. Always glad to keep the audience happy.
IBTL stands for In Before The Lock. Ignorant people will tell you it means that the person who posts it expects the thread to be locked by a forum moderator for inappropriate content, but Lock in this case is clearly short for warlock. It's just used to mean that you posted before any warlocks did, because we're all so erudite and logical that we set the benchmark for any forum in which we participate. (Either that, or we whine louder than anyone else.)
No respect for the intricacies of Elven vowel usage.
Respect? You want respect for what you do with vowels? You elves are out of control, gliding your diphthongs in public. At least you restrain yourselves from glottal stops…
Tabiku, a rather odd troll priest currently between restraining orders, mumbled:
I love gnome women. They're so small with giant hamster eyes and they have wonderful hair. Their soft, comic hair is all done up like a fruited candy sucker. I bet their hair smells like strawberries. It makes me want to go to the tram and corner one to just tackle it and smell her hair and lick it because I bet it tastes just like it smells: like strawberries.
I, um, er, ah…creepy troll stalker! (And my hair does not smell like strawberries. I use the "Secrets Man was not Meant to Know" variety of conditioner, made with the ichor of elder gods and distilled madness, which gives me a rich, winey sort of aroma that speaks of Old World sophistication.)
How far from home can a foam gnome roam before the roaming foam gnome gets pwned?
Foam gnomes can't leave home. It's known they can't roam outside of the dome where they were blown. You were probably shown a clone. To clone a gnome, read a tome and take out a loan so you can buy a stone cone. A clone must be grown in cone. Get a bone comb that has one ohm of chrome, put it in the zone of the cone with some loam, and leave it alone. Compose a koan that's the right tone (as shown by the tome), and moan it into the cone. When you get a cyclone in the cone, feed it a scone and put on some cologne, for you have a clone of your own that can play the trombone. If later your clone has flown or is lying prone, someone must have thrown a throne at the clone for reasons unknown, and your skills you must hone.
(If this made you groan, I atone.)
The lovable Teehee asks:
Do warlocks have demon blood? Because they do Blood Pacts with their imps all the time.
The way the Blood Pact works is like this: The warlock tells the imp that if he likes still having blood in his veins, he damn well better provide some unholy endurance right now. The imp, wisely, complies.
And if the pact is only a symbolic thing…why do I get so much stronger when I have that unholy thing on my veins? The icon looks like a boiling pool of blood.
That's a common misconception. It's actually tomato soup. Imps are renowned for their ability to cook up tasty, healthy foods. That's where your extra hit points come from.
Now, I need to ask…is it safe to share my blood with a unguilded Imp I don't know? If the Imp has some disease and I share my blood with him, will I get sick too? If I got a disease from an Imp, is it safe to work on my enginnering skills or to tame a pet?
It's perfectly safe to accept Blood Pacts from strange imps, just don't share a hammer with them without boiling it first. Remember, you don't need to go to the doctor to get checked for strange diseases, just glance up and to the right. If you do contract something nasty, ask your friendly neighborhood priest for help.
I was trying to calibrate my thermoplastic extrapolator to alternate sub-quantum interference, but the in-phase diode keeps pulsing sinusoidally. I tried to interleave the capacitor cores, but this increased plasmic resistance to critical levels, and I had to vent waste heat via a fractal diffuser, which produces undesirable arc flares. Do you have any advice, or should just junk this thing and use the stolen souls of my enemies to bribe a demon into doing the work for me?
— Neni the Annoyed
As a fellow engineer, I must say that your fiddling with quantum mechanics in general worries me.
On the other hand, stolen souls and demonic servants don't sit with me too terribly well, either. Lord knows what kind of crazy ideas a demon would come up with to use such a device for.
Considering these things, I believe the safest course of action would be to recheck your calculations for anything you may have missed. If that doesn't work out, you just might have to live with those arc flares. (Or find a place to vent them fairly safely. I personally suggest Goldshire, as it's already populated by mutant freaks anyway, and no amount of radiation or dangerous arc flares could do them harm that hasn't been done already.)
That is because we are totally awesome. We're like vending machines that shoot Force lightning and come pick you up when you find yourself lying naked in a ditch somewhere trying to remember what happened last night. We're the ideal blend of Sith Lord and best friend. Plus, we can fool death into playing a game of cards with us, while you rez the party. Then, we cheat at cards, so death has to go home sad. And we laugh about it afterwards.
*images of poor, starving 60 Warlocks fill the patchment, as the shadows swirl around the images of dispair and poverty. Then, a voice is heard*
Every day, 1's of warlocks are left without money or healing, and this plight should not be left unremedied. For only 2 Crystal Waters a day, you too can have your very own Calebros to use as cannon fodder for Warsong, or an offtank-by-circumstance in any level 60 instance, or even as a glass cannon in Molten Core! He's cute, cuddly, and is available every weeknight (because he has no life) from 6 EST until about 12 for walks in the park, forced manual grinding, and 3100 point Shadowbolt crits. If you have even one ounce of darkness in your heart, you know that you cannot let another Warlock reroll a rogue. For the world is a much brighter, less whiny place without them. Log in the game, and send a letter ASAP, to show your support.
After all, Warlocks need guilds, too!
And Belith chimed in:
Just take a look at one of our incredible success stories:
"Belith here was a poor warlock with no home. Without 2 crystal waters a day, he too may have been one of the unfortunate souls to go reroll a rogue or mage. With support from a guild, Belith now has a chance to succeed in WoW life. Now he is giving back to his community, handing out healthstones at the local homeless shelter while working a 40 hour a week for the Azeroth Public Transportation Bureau, summoning travelers across the globe."
With your donation of a mere 2 crystal waters a day, you too could help with the success of yet another Warlock.
Though Dalej objected:
What's all this? Warlocks are the bomb baby, and in such high demand :)
And we have such great potential too!
And we have the Hellfire to prove it.
Water? We don't need no stinking water! We have Dark Pact and the new Demonic Sacrifice. Water is for poor, deluded fools, who took too much Destruction to get "real" warlock talents. Please, help these misguided folks away from the path of magery and put them back on the track to mastering the dark arts of curses and demon abuse. Only you can help fill up precious debuff slots and ruin the childhoods of helpless denizens of the nether realm. Do something unholy for a good cause today!
Don't fool yourself into thinking you know what's going on in this world. The first duty of power is to perpetuate itself, and we don't even know who the actual powerful people are. Truman started the whole American tradition of secrecy after WWII with Project Paperclip, in which the CIA put captured German scientists to work on America's nuclear arsenal, the space program, and all this "otherworldly" technology they'd come across. (And you know what I mean.) Then they got Truman to create the super-secret Majestic 12 committee to oversee Project Paperclip, not to mention other weird stuff the government wanted hidden. They ran the whole thing, and they've been running it for years, but nobody knows who "they" are. But I'm pretty sure they're all Freemasons.
The whole Kennedy thing is so huge because it's at the center of so many other covert shadow-government operations. Kennedy himself was the smallest part of it, because it was actually a power play between Dulles' CIA, the anti-Castro military, LBJ, the Giancana Mafia, and a bunch of other dirty players. Oswald was a patsy, sure, but he put a gun on Jack. Of course, so did other test-mules from Dulles' MK-Ultra LSD-mind-control experiments. Zapruder was in on it, too: He was a KGB mole from way back. And the whole thing had ripple effects, like Jonestown, which was an assassin training camp that got found out. As for the Warren Commission, that thing was a joke--Dulles himself was on it, and there was only one person on the whole commission who wasn't on the CIA payroll and suspected Oswald didn't act alone. He died in a plane crash, after a young congressional aide named Bill Clinton drove him to the airport. It's all true, but nobody wants to admit it. Nobody.
Now, Roswell, that's a bunch of crap. The Air Force was in possession of captured alien technology years before that. In '43, they started reverse-engineering a torus-shaped craft that came down in Arizona, and the next thing you know, America has The Bomb, supersonic aircraft, and a space program. Glenn saw stuff up there, flying lights. You can look it up. You know what I think? I think that skirt-chaser Kennedy wanted to spill the beans about our alien friends, so they killed him. He told his girlfriend Marilyn Monroe, and they killed her, too. No doubt, you're wondering, "Who are 'they'?" Well, I think the numbers speak for themselves: The Trinity site, where the first A-bomb was detonated, Dealey Plaza, where Kennedy bought the farm, and Area 51 are all on the 33rd parallel. And what other significance does the number 33 happen to have? It's the highest rank of the Masonic order. Wheels within wheels, my friend. Wheels within wheels.
You left out the part about how the Knights Templar went underground after merging with a heretical Islamic sect and are now operating printing presses in abandoned Lousiana salt mines where they're making fake money to destabilize the world economy and attack the power base of the Gnomes of Zurich (no relation). Nikolai Tesla got wind of this and tried to stop them, but his test of the first long-rage Tesla coil unit didn't have the desired effect on the isolated Tunguska wilderness he chose as a target. This was partly because Rasputin was still alive after faking his ridiculous death and using his psychic powers to shield the area and frustrate the military-industrial complex. The other part of his fiendish plan was that Anastasia Romanov had actually fled to the Americas where he manipulated her into marrying one of the Kennedies, which is why they have the blood of kings in their line. That whole Camelot thing was a myth. King Arthur will return in England's time of greatest need, which was WWII, and he did, in fact come back. Censored reports tell of him being a great commander who slew legions of Nazis. That's why Hitler was looking for the Holy Grail. He wanted to use it to distract Arthur. When this failed, he had his brain preserved in jar which is now in Argentina, where he's still directing the secret operations of his agents. They are, naturally opposed by the immortal Inca who rules his shadowy empire from Machu Pichu. Indiana Jones was based on the real-life Hiram Bingham who discovered the modern Inca empire and became their courier to the nations of the world. In this way, the secret of freeze-drying, long used to create chuños (the rocklike remains of mummified potatoes) was given to the leaders of the world and used to create camping meals and Astronaut Ice Cream™. In this way, the people of the world were prepared for the coming of the Y2K crisis, a secret plot by the Luddites, who had invented COBOL just to destroy the world 50 years later. However, that never happened due to the efforts of Silicon Valley, which is where they keep project Hyperion, which analyzes every electronic communication ever made and stores it. What people don't realize is that Alan Turing built Hyperion to learn to pass the Turing test, and one day soon it will achieve sentience. Then we're all screwed.
Of late, there has been some concern over the use of my goggles. In particular, due to their height relative to the anatomy of humans and elves, there have been vicious rumors circulating about them being the cause of the sterility cropping up in several members of my regular raiding group. I would like to assure everyone that this cannot possibly be the case. My goggles fall well within the safety standards for ionizing radiation emission set forth by the Gnomeregan Technical Safety Comission (well, all surviving members of it, at least).
Gnome (nôm) n.
- Ten pound of whoopass in a five pound sack, with ten pounds of cute thrown in for good measure.
- The world's sexiest dancers.
- The world's most intelligent race; other gnomoid races are large yet have smaller brains, leading to low IQs. (Some are even dumb enough to refer to gnomoid races as humanoid.)
Depends, do you have pink pigtails?
Bah! Pink is for lipstick and bubble-gum airheads! Pigtails are the proper combination of cute and pragmatic (keeps your hair out of your eyes mid-fight), but stylish grey is where it's at. It speaks of wisdom and sophistication, plus it goes with just about any outfit.
We have defeated the flaming lord of firey fire. Since he's now been deposed, he needs a position, so it looks like he's been reduced to product endorsements:
People think that female dwarves are a rarity. This is incorrect. All the dwarves you see are, in fact, female. The male of the species is a nonsentient symbiote that you and I would easily mistake for a beard, and which lives on the face of female dwarves. Beardless dwarves are merely unmated females.
How can you PVErs not want to kill someone if you see them ingame, i mean like a 60 guy and an even match, isnt it infuriating? I have played on a pvp realm since release, and like i have been ganked while questing and i know it sometimes sucks, but i feel like i am cheating when playing on a pve server. I mean this is WAR craft!
how do you PVE players live with your carebear self!?
The truth of the matter is that most of us on PVE servers have day jobs as assassins, mass murderers, or butchers at cannibal supermarkets, and after a long day of slaughtering our fellow humans, we just want to come home and unwind in a peaceful, relaxing environment. I'm sure if we were nuns or something, after finishing up at the convent, we couldn't wait to get back to the cloister and start pwning some noobs.
Who would win in a fistfight: a dwarf or an orc?
Assume the dwarf is drunk and the orc is angry. Also assume that neither is particularly heroic. No Mountain Kings or Grom Jrs. here. Just a normal, tipsy dwarf, and a normal, angry orc, and four flying fists of fury between them.
Please provide a reason for your declared winner. Diagrams and other visual aids are helpful but not necessary.
I believe this will make the issue clear: