The Nightmare

I had a blog dream last week. My first ever. And I don’t know if this common with bloggers, but it’s very similar to the College Exam Dream that almost everyone has had — you’ve been meaning to attend that math/literature/fluid dynamics class and when you finally get around to it, here’s the final exam! for which you are obviously not prepared.

In the blog dream I had published the final, The End, post on AFK Gamer. I walked away, went about my business for a few days and then realized that I had messed it up — my facts were wrong, I didn’t remember the drama sequence properly, and I had come off as the worst kind of noob … a level 70 with NO IDEA what their class is all about. Think: a 70 rogue with spirit and +spell damage gear. Cloth. As I recall, I even posted screenshots of the +spirit robe I was wearing.

I hope to never have such a dream again.

To head off any future blog nightmares, here’s the final story I told — this time, done properly:

Remember back in April when I scurried off to play Lord of the Rings Online and I was happy there and enjoying my time exploring and collecting stupid titles like Fur-Cutter and FOE OF NIGHT? Ya, I remember it too. Fondly.

Well, late June of this year my guild started wailing and gnashing their teeth: they’re struggling with former-farm raid content in Burning Crusade, the figurehead guildleader hasn’t been seen for weeks, we neeeeeeeeed you!!!!!! I know, that last part surprised me too. I’m not the greatest player, I’m certainly not the nicest, I’ve never been a model guildmember or server citizen and most damning, I’m a rogue. Please. No guild NEEDS a rogue. Can’t swing a dead cat in World of Warcraft without hitting 20 or more rogue former-mains.

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Next Week

Next week beginning on Monday … another multi-part story of love and war … craft.

It’s like in the great stories. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.