After a year of actually earning some cash with my writing, I have learned that sometimes I need to do what I love to do just for the fun of it. I do other things for fun, too. I pick around on an acoustic guitar. I’m not sure you could call what I do making music, but I have a good time with it. I take photographs of things that please me and of my animals, I doodle on paper or electronically, and I play computer games.
Of all the things that I do, playing computer games is probably the least productive. At the end of the day, a collection of objects made up of pixels doesn’t make much of an impact on the world. After a while, playing a game online just the way it is written isn’t so very much fun, either. This is why savvy gaming companies leave room in the MMORPG’s for players to create their own side stories.
I have played Final Fantasy in the past. I loved the art work, but it is just a teeny bit expensive. I currently subscribe to World of Warcraft; primarily because my middle child also had an account, and I have some friends who play there. Despite that, I often find myself playing alone because I putz around doing things that really don’t seem to appeal to everyone. I’m not into challenging other players to dual, and if I go in for some group action, it is usually with my friends. I enjoy the puzzle-plus-storyline aspect of MMORPG’s, and therefore spend quite a bit of time questing or pursuing the components for the in-game crafts. But all of that can get boring if that is all you are doing. So…I make up stories for my characters as I play. I develop reasons why they would send each other materials and in-game currency.
So here we are: this is the story of seven young women (my characters on WOW) who roomed together during their basic training as adventurers, which makes them Sisters-in-Arms. They are all members of the Guild “The Divine Conspiracy”, which is steered through the various stormy waters of Wow and sometime Real Life by Admiral Slydel. (I also have characters on a different server where my Real Life family maintains their characters. But that is a different set of stories for another day.) The young women are of various races, and therefore after their training are scattered back into their home territories. Their stories will be told here in journal entries and letters to each other.
From: Fernchild, Night-Elf Druid, from Darnassus, 4/28
To: Guildenberi, Human Mage, in Stormwind
Dear Guilde,
Sister, I have just had the most extraordinary experience! I was in Darnassus catching up my banking, and picking up new skills when I noticed that Admiral Slydel and Ambassador Miyumi were “at home”. I inquired of the Admiral if I might stop by and pay my respects and he gave me permission.
Of course I got lost along the way. I stumbled into a shop selling Guild Tabards! Have you picked one up for yourself yet? They are quite distinctive.
Anyway, I arrived at Miyumi’s residence, where our esteemed leaders were chatting. They welcomed me, but noted that I was not correctly dressed for the party. Miyumi loaned to me a “little black dress”, which goodness knows, had precious little fabric in it, but was, indeed, more suitable than my mud-stained leathers. I had just come from digging clams.
Once I had changed into the borrowed dress, I realized that my shoes were not quite right, but decided they would have to do. We chatted for a time, compared pets, and then the Admiral changed herself into a plant! In fact, she changed into several plants in quick succession. The Ambassador produced a keg, and proceeded to water the plant with beer which caused it to burp — copiously, and quite loudly. I contributed a healing potion, and some entrails from my last hunt, neither of which seemed to help. When I last took my leave, the Admiral was still a plant, and the Ambassador had settled down to wait out her change.
Ambassador Miyumi gave me leave to keep the dress, which I placed in my bank vault. And here is the point of my letter: Sister, dearest, the dress is lovely, but I do not think black is my color. Can you make up some silk in green for me? If I continue to move in such rarified circles, I may well need some dress clothing. Some casuals in linen or wool wouldn’t hurt, either. I know your needle work of old. I would not dream of asking anyone else.
Your Sister-in-arms,
Fernchild.
From: Guildenberi, Human Mage, in Booty Bay
To: Fernchild, Night-Elf Druid, from Darnassus, 4/29
Dear Ferny,
You know, my dear, I have pulled myself out of the wilds of Stranglethorn to answer your letter. Did you by chance also write to the Admiral and to the Ambassador? You really must brush up on your letter writing! It seems you startled them both with the warm tone of your letters. Do try for a little more impersonal approach when writing to our esteemed leaders!
Of course I will make some clothing for you, my dear. I think I have just the pattern in mind. If you can keep sending cloth from your travels, I should be able to create quite a wardrobe for both of us. I’ll ask Joanne to send some more leathers as well. Are you in need of bags, still? I can now make a capacious 12-slot bag that might help with your gathering. Remember, you can always stow a few extras in the bank vault.
I truly wished Joanne could have been with me today. I am trying to impress Hemet Nesingwary with my prowess as a hunter. It made me truly sad to leave all those creatures lying about when she would have had such a good time skinning them.
Do try for a little discretion, my dear. The goal of a thank you letter is to impress, not to overwhelm.
Your-Sister-in-Arms,
Guildenberi.
To: Guildenberi, Lil Nimble Fingers, Helga Irondotir, Fernchild, Niancia and Jeleilu:
From: Joanne D’Ark, Your Sister-in-Arms
Dear Sisters:
Today I saw the strangest thing today. A Worgen, dressed in the regalia of a Dark Knight, out fishing in the Stormwind Lake. He looked so sad, yet somehow at peace. He wasn’t catching much — mostly the junk off the bottom of the lake. Should we befriend him, do you think? Do you think the Admiral or the Ambassador have heard of him?
I think he must be newly come to Stormwind. He still had bits of rotten fruit clinging to his armor. It is a lonely life for the DK’s and too often a bitter one. Perhaps we should send him a letter?
Jo
From: Guildenberi
To: Joanne
I think I caught sight of your melancholy worgen death knight today. He had come into the Protective Hide to train up and to turn in some skins. I suggested that he send his scraps to you. He had made a sad job of his first efforts at skinning, if I am any judge. And having seen your leather, Sister, I believe that I am. Rumor has it that he has been assisting the guards in Redridge. It seems he is neat, quick and merciful with his kills; even if his skinning leaves something to be desired. Rumor has it that he can also be seen picking herbs to aid the sick. Those great, fumbling claws neatly trim branches from vegetation and dig up roots. He may need less help than you might think transitioning to civilian life; but he may need a friend.
Guilde
To: Miss Joanne D’ark
From: Ralph Loysimer
M’lady,
I am told by your Sister-in-Arms, Guildenberi, that you work leather. I have some scraps of hide that I have quite mangled in the skinning. I fear my skill could use a great deal of improvement. If you can resuscitate these poor efforts of mine, please donate the result to the guild or to your favorite charity.
While I am aware that donations do not constitute true atonement, perhaps they can make some small down payment on the damage I wrought during my making.
R. Loysimer
Daisy Peasblossom Fernchild 