is another WoWblog!
And what WoWblogs need, in particular, is an analysis of why blood-elves suck.
We do suck, of course – that can be taken as axiomatic. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly, belves gotta suck so hard you could cry.
But I can’t help loving this belf of mine.
Because, graduating from Sunstrider Isle to Silvermoon, it occurs to me that we suck in the most adorable way. For all our mechanically implausible supermodel figures and if-emo-had-been-around-in-the-80s hair and edgy tampering with dark forces, the blood-elf NPCs are basically a bunch of absent-minded professors. I have never been in a Senior Common Room the morning after a particularly serious sherry bender, but that’s what I imagine it would be like.
Blood elf elders carry out demanding, dangerous research into the most obscure aspects of fel energy – and leave it lying around. They chronicle their fiendish plans for harnessing the power of the void – and leave them lying around. Sometimes they seem to tour Sunstrider Isle for the express purpose of losing as much stuff as possible in as many places as possible. It must be a territorial thing, like dogs and lamp-posts.
The most adorable thing about the Magisters, though, is that if the contents of a document (which they have, of course, absent-mindedly abandoned in the most inconvenient possible location) should happen to displease them, the most obvious course of action is to throw it off a balcony and set it on fire.
I wonder if Prince Arthas really needed to go to all the trouble of creating the Scourge to destroy us. If they left us alone with enough sharp objects and flammables, I’m sure we could do the job in half the time.
An Electrolux A Belf (In A Tux)