Once upon a time, I tweeted: “Had a weird dream that I server-transferred my DK again. Enough! No more throwing cash at #Blizzard. They already have more money than God.”
Well, folks, I just handed them more money and made them richer than God and Satan combined.
You: ZOMG WTF YOU TRANSFERRED AND YOU’RE HORDE AGAIN WHO CARES BUT WHY???
Why? Below are the reasons in random order.
– My husband is a die-hard Horde. Since I switched to Alliance, he and I have never ran anything together in the game. We were always saying how much we missed our bonding moments in Azeroth – questing and farming and skinny-dipping in Nagrand – plus his chaos bolts really hurt. Ya know the old saying, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
– I am a Horde at heart. I started out as Horde and plan on exiting this game as a Horde. I never felt any faction pride as an Alliance. Not once did I cry, “FOR THE ALLIANCE!” in battlegrounds. Come to think of it, I did only a couple of BGs during my stint as a Human. I just couldn’t bring myself to kill Horde. I. just. couldn’t.
– I needed a change. I wasn’t happy anymore as I was being held back again, progression-wise. I was getting angrier and angrier and losing more and more patience. I was afraid that if I didn’t leave, I would spew very hurtful words that could kill a lot of friendships, and I didn’t want to take that risk. I was in danger of mentally and emotionally snapping in the manner of Walter White:
– I missed having fabulous hair.
– I missed the thug life in Orgrimmar.
– I missed being a member of the one true cool faction. (Cute as they are, gnomes will never be cool.)
– Vol’jin was calling my name. I couldn’t say no. And you know how I love the guy. #sicklove
– And did I say I missed playing with my husband?
Moving to a new realm where I don’t know anyone besides my other half is always a terrifying experience for me. You know that feeling you get on the first day of school as the new kid who doesn’t know where to sit in the cafeteria? That’s exactly how I felt. I checked Trade for guild recruitment, I checked out other players and their gear. I felt so naked…until I chanced upon a small guild that was willing to let me try out for a spot. I’m on wait-and-see status as of this writing.
So what did I name my Death Knight this time?
I named her Patty after Homer Simpson’s cranky spinster sister-in-law Patty Bouvier…
(Credits: Matt Groening and Fox Broadcasting Company)
…because that’s who I was turning into raid night after raid night. I was becoming mean, impatient and cantankerous. All I needed was a smoking habit and a job at the DMV and I was all set into becoming a human version of her.
You could also say I was in danger of pulling a Patty Hearst if I had stayed.
Well, good luck to me in my home. This is it, folks. This is my last and final move, I swear on a stack of Bibles.