Hello….

December 14, 2007 at 3:49 pm (Beast Mastery, Survival, Uncategorized)

Welcome to the first official “meeting” of Survival Hunters Anonymous; this is a light-hearted take on being a Survival Hunter, but with aspirations of being a suitable resource for all things Survival.

For me, it all started back in July. I had just finished some quests in Feralas, and I was feeling pretty badass; I had even dueled a druid that was in the top raiding guild on the server and put him in his place five times straight. (I think he still hasn’t figured out how I was able to see him after he went into Cat form… but he may have gotten the idea that all hunters have innate stealth detection, and it might have been my fault.)

Needless to say, as that was done and I was boasting about Hunter superiority in Guild Chat, two new hunters logged in for raids that night.

Both of them were Survival spec’d.

It was like finding out you had not one, but two more eccentric uncles than you were used to; sure, it means more presents at Christmas, but they always get you weird stuff, like sweaters and toe socks made of duct tape.

Regardless, I struck up some light-hearted conversation; if anybody’s gonna get duct tape toe socks, it’s gonna be me.

I mentioned that I love being a Hunter, and particularly Beast Mastery. I loved my big red cat, I loved off-tanking, and the sheer glory of showing up pushy Mages by topping DPS meters. I boasted, bragged, and with little humility, said I’d even pet-tank Hyjal when I hit 70.

(I mean, how hard could THAT be?)

They laughed, naturally. Then they started talking to each other, and peppering their speech with devilish phrases that stuck in my head.

“Utility”.

“Crowd Control”.

“Flexibility”.

“ZOMG, 30% crit”.

“Applesauce”.

These words took on a life of their own in my mind. I knew the path I was on was fun, easy, and rewarding, but their world of possibility ate at me like an eight year old with massive tooth decay; It was rotting me out from the inside with sugary potential.

For months, I resisted.I stayed strong.I power-leveled.I replaced my bow with a nice, shiny gun.

(I love guns.)

But it still wasn’t enough. I felt like I was living somebody else’s Hunter-life.

Then, it came to me. At Level 65, I realized that I had taken myself as far as I could go as a Beast Master. I had even diversified my stable, adding JoanRivers, the Flying Two-Headed Turkey of Doom, and Zumulus, the Scorpid, to keep Swayze company.

Even the clickety-clack of Zum’s precious little claws couldn’t fill the empty stable that was my heart.I needed challenge; but more importantly… I needed to respec.

I needed a Hunter makeover, Survival-style.

So, tingling with anticipation, I packed up my things and ran to Orgrimmar.

“You do realize, that once you respec, it will more expensive each time?” The trainer said. “For now, it’s 5 gold. That’s a bit of a hum-dinger, you sure you want to do this?”

“YES! And damn the cost! I want my improved traps, massive crits, and killer PVP talents! No longer will I play my class the way some snarky dwarf tells me to; I’ll do things my own way!” I cried aloud.

“Uh, Track, wtf? Was that in the wrong channel?”

“No, random guildie! I don’t care who knows it! I’m Survival now, and damn proud of it!”

“Well, what’s your spec? Are you taking points in Master Tactician, Wyvern Sting, or Deterrence?”

“Uh, funny you should ask… I didn’t figure that part out yet.”

Welcome to Survival Hunters Anonymous. And when in doubt, improvise.

-Track

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1 Comment

  1. Sellia said,

    /hi

    I just followed the link in the comment of BRK … seem nice enough.
    Cya later !

    /wave

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