Versus

I stepped on Darkshore. Boy, do these elves have psychological problems. I did not pass my history lessons often enough not to know about their fault in everything falling-apartedness, but come on already. To live that long you have to forget about things, not to drag them along for thousands of years. If our Tinker was that nervous, he would kill himself the next day Gnomeregan was irradiated.

There are elves, who seem to stop caring about the past and turn their attention to the present. Silverwing forces in Ashenvale were formed to keep Horde from cutting trees. They tend to speak about ancient powers and nature calls and fauna suffering, blah-di-blah. Forest is fortress for kaldorei, orcs are slowly turning their fortress into planks and logs. It's obvious, as obvious is the need to strike back. It's a war.

I heard, that you can earn quite a lot, fighting for the gulch which controls southern orc camp. Not money, but experience- and gear-wise. So I decided to lend them a gnomish hand.

It was exhausting. There is not that much space in the gulch, more than 10 people is too many — because if the enemy can hold off 10 people in this trench, thay can hold off a small army. But 10 soldiers (escpecially “soldiers” like me) cannot hold the entire base without being everywhere — which means running and running and running around. I was taught to run fast, but not for half hour, dammit. And my stealth quite often let me down, but Subtlety training is not what I can handle right now. It requires steady hand and agility which I lack. So down with Combat for now.

By the end of the day we took and lost the lumbermill four times, my wounds were screaming with pain and head was dizzy from paladins' hammers. Maybe another week.