Friday, March 31, 2006

My Crew

I'm sure many of you wonder what the other goblins are like.

Even if you don't, that's what you're getting. If you don't like it, get your own damned blog.

First on the list is my buddy Goblin Shaman. Despite my recent desire to beat him to death, I still count him among my friends. If I stopped being friends with everyone I wanted to kill, I'd have no friends at all.

And let me tell you, the list ain't long to begin with.

Shaman is pretty cool. He's a Black Mage. Every now and again, we like to go to Bastok and yell "FIRE!" Then, when people start looking around, he casts Firaga III on all the low levels.

Nothing says bonding like watching galkas spontaneously combust.

Next on the list is Goblin Pathfinder. Damn, that guy is irritating.

Everytime we're walking through the jungle, he goes "There's a path. And there's another."

I mean, he's basically a horribly deformed girl guide. Of course there are paths. We're walking through a jungle. Walking through a jungle necessitates a path.

And his freakin' pets. I mean honestly, he's a goblin. Have some pride, man. Why the hell do you need a bee following you around?

Goblin Furrier used to be cool. Then the damned ranger "adjustment" happened. Now, he just bitches and whines about how great it used to be.

I'd stab him to death, but he always subs Ninja and I don't have the patience to fight shadows.

Goblin Leecher is a great guy to have around. There is nothing funnier than a group of n00b adventurers getting me down to a sliver of health and having Leecher cast Cure III on me.

"YAY! He's dying, he's dyi... Oh dear lord, he has become Death incarnate! Oh gloorrrgrgrg [muffled stab related dying sounds]"

I'd hang around with him more often if it wasn't for the smell. I mean, I don't think he's showered since the Japanese Beta. People wonder why there's a deodorize spell. The reason: Leecher.

Then, there's my little brother, Goblin Tinkerer. I was very proud to see him take up the Dark Knight job, but if he doesn't stop singing "Tear my life into pieces, this is my Last Resort," I'm going to be an only child.

Being a ruthless killer I can accept. But emo? Hell no.

So those are my friends... well, the guys I hang out with. Actually, I don't even hang out with many of them.

Basically, other than Shaman, they're a waste of DNA. And I only like him because he knows Fire IV. Hard to say no to a guy who can light you on fire.

Damn, I hate my friends.

Mr. Smithy Goes to Jeuno

Just when I thought I'd seen every possible way to stab a n00b, I get sent on a new assignment, Dynamis-Jeuno.

For those of you unfamiliar with Dynamis, let me paint a picture for you:

A group of adventurers (read: soon to be corpses) spend a buttload of money to enter an alternate dimension where we run the show. Everywhere you turn is another way to die. Statues that summon more enemies. Goblins on steroids ripping holes in people.

I'm getting misty just thinking about it.

They actually pay money to come in and get stabbed. That still makes me laugh everytime I think about it.

"Oh please, Mister Smithy. Take my life and exp. I'll give you money."

So, I log into Dynamis and the first thing I see is my new name. Vanguard Smithy. How awesome is that? I sound like something from Dragonball Z.

I'm in Dynamis, gone all Super Saiyan Smithy, and this place is amazing. Always dark. No lines at the auction house. Sweeeeet.

I'm really starting to like this place when I see something come up in the log...

BlackMage1 starts casting Fire IV on Vanguard Smithy.
BlackMage2 starts casting Thunder IV on Vanguard Smithy.
BlackMage3 starts casting Fire IV on Vanguard Smithy.
BlackMage4 starts casting Thundaga III on Vanguard Smithy.
DarkKnight1: OMG!!11eleven! Gobgobgobgobogobogobog
BlackMage5 starts casting Thunder IV on Vanguard Smithy.

I immediately think to myself "Hmmm... something may be wrong..."

This thought is then reinforced when my flesh is magically converted into pain.

As I die, oh so many times, the last words I hear are:

DarkKnight1: Ooooo, he dropped my AFB.

I hate Dynamis.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Damned Moblins

You know, this really pisses me off.

Why do Moblins get their own city? We've been here longer.

Where's my damned city?

Sure they let us hang out there, but I don't see them calling it Govalpolos.

They're not even a new species for Altana's sake. They're goblins. Yes, that's right. Goblins. Sure they get cool equipment and a fancy city *coughbastardscough*, but when you cut out all that other crap, they're just goblins.

Oh yeah, change the 'g' to an 'm' and noone will ever figure out the difference. Good work there, Mr. Bond.

And why the name Moblins, anyway? Last time I check, goblins were not connected to organized crime. No, no. Simple extortion and racquetering, that's us.

Stupid damned Moblins.

So, I head to Oldton Movalpolos one day to check the place out... okay, I was cruising for chicks. But as I walk in the gate, this big Moblin jerk gets in my way. Some idiot named Ashman.

Now, before we go any further, let me describe the situation for you. I am wearing a suit of heavy grey armor that is literally still wet with n00b blood. Seriously, it looks like I just got off work at a slaughter house. I'm carrying a giant blade (also covered with blood and what I can only assume are pieces of someone's face).

And then I get stopped by a moron... I mean moblin wearing shiny golden armor and carrying half of a house on his back. It looks like Trading Spaces threw up on him. The only thing his armor is wet with is the drool running from the corner of his mouth.

Then he gets up in my face.

MoblinAshman>> Where do you think you're going?

This is a prime example of moblin stupidity. I just walked in through a giant gate. Where does he think I'm going? I'm going in. Otherwise, I would not have walked in the giant damned door.

GoblinSmithy>> Uhhh... inside, Genius.
MoblinAshman>> Oh no you're not. You're going to have to leave.

Now, he steps in front of me. I have issues with authority, so I show him my blade. Not to be outdone, he shows me his frying pan.

Yes, you read that correctly. I'm being accosted with cookware. I'd hate to see what they use in wars. Nuclear casserole dishes strewn as far as the eye can see.

Perhaps you shouldn't buy your weaponry at Pottery Barn.

GoblinSmithy>> Unless you're gonna make me an omelette, get the frying pan out of my face, Assman.
MoblinAshman>> I said you're not coming in here.

And that's when he swung the frying pan. I expected iron swords and I get the Iron Chef. I dodge out of the way rather easily.

It's a freakin' frying pan after all.

GoblinSmithy>> Nice shot there, Stevie Wonder. Do you need to go back to the kitchen to find more weapons?

He swings again and misses again, but that's when I hear a loud clang.

He just hit me with a ladle.


Now, it's on. I bring up my foot and kick him in his stupid gold mask. 24 carats of pain, bitch.

So then, it's time to work. I start slashing like a wild man. He tries to defend himself with his frying pan (that gets dumber everytime I write it), but to no avail. Finally, I knock him down and stand on his neck.

GoblinSmithy>> And why can't I come in?
MoblinAshman>> Because you slept with my sister!


GoblinSmithy>> Ooooooooh. I'll just leave then.

I thought he looked familiar. I should write this stuff down.

P.S. Somebody owes me a city.

They ruined my fun.


Why would they they change it so I can't hang around zonelines anymore?

That was my favorite part of the job. Some fool would run by and I'd start murdering him. He'd run (they always run) and I'd chase him. And then he'd hit the zoneline...

And then it was party time.

I'd find me a nice little unsuspecting party and start killing people. Always the White Mage first. They hate that.

And I'd always wait until they were in the middle of a battle. Silly little adventurers picking on a Mandy. Not in my house.

They'd start fighting and then suddenly, one of their teammates would be dead. WTFs and WTHs would fly like streamers and then, the realization would hit them.

It's Smithy time.

They'd try to run (they always run) and the whole process would repeat itself. One party would save themselves at the expense of another party. White Mage bodies piling up like Christmas presents.

It was fun.

And then they went and ruined it all. Now, as soon as the hit the zoneline, I get warped back to my homepoint. No murdering. No fun. Just pop and I'm back where I started.

There was a time when someone yelling "TRAIN" struck fear in the hearts of adventurers. Jungle parties lived in constant fear of my presence. They would run and hide, and sometimes cry.

Damn, I loved that.

Now, I run past and there is no fear. No running. No crying.

Even when I kill the guy I'm chasing, people just look up for a second and then ignore me. And then pop, back to home point.

Why would they ruin my fun?

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

I have feelings too, you know.

It's not like I want to be popular. I'm the quote unquote "bad guy." I get that.

But some damned recognition might be nice.

Everytime I camp in Maze of Shakrami, I never get any attention. Oh no, everyone is looking for Argus. Argus this, Argus that.

It makes me sick.

Have you even seen that guy? He's a blob of goo with about 100 eyes. He's an eye-bally gooey blob. I'm decked out in seriously cool armor and the gooball gets all the attention.


And don't even get me started about when he gets to the bathroom ahead of me. Yesterday morning, I had to wait while he put in his contacts. By the time he was done, I had to shave again.

What does he even need contacts for? As soon as he logs in, he gets stabbed to death. It's a waste of saline, is what it is.

The guy only shows up once a day for Altana's sake. Damned primadonna.

Must... control... rage.

I'm getting sidetracked.

So, I'm in Shakrami looking for some adventurers to exp off of, but the only adventurers there are waiting for Argus. *coughbastardcough*

I'm just getting sick of waiting around when a Dark Knight finally walks up to me and takes a swing.


So I get to work. I'm ducking and weaving. I mean, I'm pulling out all of my best moves. This punk is gonna...

...stand there not moving.

He's not fighting back. Hell, he's not even looking at me. He's just waiting...


I've gone from being an intimidating omen of death to being a source of amusement.

This will not do.

So, I wait. And wait. And wait. And then it happens.

Mister too-cool-for-school Argus shows up. The place just goes bat shit insane. People start warping and casting, provoking and chi-blasting. The Dark Knight starts casting...

And at that exact second, I stab him right in the groin.

I mean, I stabbed that guy. I smashed that thing like Mark McGwire. His grandkids are going to be cross-eyed. I swear I heard one of them pop.

Who needs a Peacock Amulet now, bitch?

I didn't sign up for this

So, I was hanging out with some of my friends, Shaman and Furrier, when one of them mentions an event called Garrison.

Shaman went on and on about how much fun it is, and I started to get interested. Easy exp and those adventurers drop some good items. It all sounds too good to be true.

It is.

I really should have asked more questions.

Today, I sign up for Garrison and I get transported to an outpost in Bururimu Peninsula.

At first, I'm kind of confused. I'm at a random outpost in the middle of nowhere and, for some reason, I'm now holding parts of a mannequin. Read that again. I'm holding parts of a mannequin in the middle of a battle.

Someone remind me to kill Shaman.

I fumble with the mannequin parts and I'm just starting to get them in control when I see them. A swarm of NPCs comes over a hill and starts hitting me. 18 of them. 18 freaking NPCs are out to kill me.

I can only assume they like mannequins.

So I'm getting absolutely murdered and think "Can this get any worse?"

You should never ask that question.

Just then, 18 adventurers come over the hill to help out the NPCs. Yeah... I was apparently more than they could handle.

So 36 pointy things later, I'm face down in the dirt. I lose exp, delevel, and land on a mannequin foot that gets lodged in a very uncomfortable place.

I'm going to beat Shaman to death with his own face.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Things I hate: 1) People, 2) Orcs

I log in today and instantly get a tell from a Goblin Shaman asking if I want to start a party with him.

At first, I think no. I was planning on finding the little punk who stole my treasure chest key yesterday and making him eat his own face. But, I do hate to pass up on exp.

I really should have said no.

We form a party and start picking up people right away. We get a Giant Ranger (who is, ironically, a Warrior. Don't even get me started) and a Garnet Quadav for healing. I start to worry about a tank when Shaman finds a Bronze Quadav in his LS. Excellent.

One slot left to fill and that's where the trouble starts.

Someone suggests looking for a Demon and I instantly say no. Those guys are so damned emo it hurts. If I have to stand next to one more 12 foot tall spawn of hell singing Linkin Park under his breath, I'm going to kill someone.

Then The Ranger (or Warrior) notices an Orcish Brawler lfg. Now, I like Monks, but Orcs are dumber than a bag of hammers. Seriously.

This is when the alarm bells start to ring gently in the back of my mind.

Against my better judgement, I send him a tell.

>>OrcishBrawler ((Party)) ((Do you need it?))
OrcishBrawler>> k, were 2?

Alarm bells ring louder.

>>OrcishBrawler Uhhh... we're all meeting in Rolanberry Field.
OrcishBrawler>> oic, ill be there sun.

I tell the rest of my party that I found the harbinger of our doom... I mean a sixth member.

Fifteen minutes later, he shows up. He's level 30 and wearing level 7 leather armor. He's a Monk and he's wearing AGI rings and Energy Earrings. He's not even wearing head gear.

I go to ask about it and wonder why I would subject myself to such stupidity. So, I let it go.

We teleport and find a camp, and suddenly the Orc runs off. I start to count my blessings, when he reappears (Oh joy), with not one, not two, but SIX adventurers. I switch from counting blessings to counting the number of pointy things aimed at my face.

Luckily, the rest of my group (minus Captain Stupid, of course) jumps into action and we start fighting. Swords clash, shields splinter, humes get stabbed repeatedly. You know, a good time.

Things were actually going well, when I notice the Orcish Retard is nowhere to be seen. I start looking around and finally see him.

Apparently, six adventurers weren't enough. Now, he has attracted the attention of a passing Taru Red Mage. In AF gear. Yes, I said AF gear.

The Red Mage, in turn, decides to powerlevel the six people we're already fighting, while Orco the boy wonder is laying down a dazzling series of misses and zeroes.

I watch the tank die and then the white mage. The Ranger (Warrior... sigh) goes next and then the Shaman takes a lance to the brain. That looked like it hurt.

So it's me, alone, versus six very angry, very armed adventurers. Well... me and the Orcish Blunder who just used his two hour. Apparently, he wasn't missing fast enough.

As I die, brutally stabbed again and again (and once in the ass. Stupid damned Thief), I hear the Orc say:

"Man, u guys are n00bs"

I hate orcs.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Always with the Running

I knew it was going to be a bad day when I got called in. Turns out a Goblin Butcher couldn't make it and they needed me to sub in Valkurm Dunes.

Oh freakin' joy.

I haven't been in the dunes since I was level 18. I was going to go back for a visit once, but I hit myself with a frying pan until the sensation went away.

So I log in next to the secret beach and I'm actually feeling pretty good. It's sunny and warm. Things are looking up. Then I heard it:

"OMFG!11!eleventyone! gobgobgobgobbogogbbogobogbgob!"

I turn around to ask why someone would mutilate a poor, defenseless language when I get hit in the head with a pebble.

A pebble.

He threw a pebble at a goblin.

So I walk over to have a serious discussion about social etiquette (read: I went to beat him so bad he'd hp in a wheelchair), when HE hits ME with a sword.

Now it's on.

I start smacking him around and notice his health going down pretty fast when suddenly, he takes off running.

And now I'm chasing him. On a beach. In heavy, dark armor.

Did I mention how bad this subligar chafes?

We finally get to Selbina where I kill him right in front of the zoneline. I mean, he's right there. One more step and he would have lived.

That'll teach him to throw rocks at people.

People who live in easily stabbed bodies shouldn't throw stones. Good motto there.

So now, I'm standing on a pile of stupidity. I'm sweating and there is sand in places goblins don't like to talk about.

People need to die for this.

And what happens then? I warp back to the secret beach just in time to hear:

"OMFG!1!!1elevenone!! gobgobgobogoboobogoboglogbogogbogob!"

I hate the dunes.

Welcome to the Jungle

I'm not a bad guy. Really. It's my job to kill people. I don't really enjoy it.

Well... the bomb thing is kind of fun, I have to admit.

So why is it everytime I'm trying to relax some fool has to run by me? Now, I have to chase you. That's not easy in a set of armor, let me tell you. I can barely breathe in that mask on the best of days. And that subligar... It chafes something fierce.

And then one of two things happens:

1) the guy runs to a zoneline and disappears

What a let down. I've got my stabbing arm all flexed and ready, and this n00b takes off on me. All that build up with no pay off.

Now I know how my wife feels.

2) 6 guys link on me

Is that really fair? I mean, 6 armed people versus one goblin. I don't call that a fair fight.

6 guys team up and beat the hell out of me, and I'm the bad guy. Where's the justice?

Seriously, find somebody else, would you? Do I come to your house, hit you with a rock, and then beat you to death with a bunch of my friends? Do I?

Well... I don't come to your house.

Also, while we're on the topic: why do people rush TOWARD me when I'm holding a bomb?

I'm not going to get into the physics of explosives or anything, but I'm pretty sure the best thing to do is run away from a bomb. Let's see... bomb go boom, things near bomb die. Things not near bomb, no die.

Yeah, that's a hard strategy to crack there. Morons.

As if you waving at me is going to make me drop an incendiary device. It's a bomb for Altana's sake! Moving three feet closer is not going to make me drop it.

Man, I hate people.