This weekend felt like a really different experience to me.
Usually I get that feeling when I unlock some new part of the game that I wasn't expecting; new spells, different druid forms or even new areas.
This time, though, it felt like I'd changed.
“I wouldn't bet the farm on it.
I wouldn't even bet the outhouse on Moonvale”
—Richard M Naxxon Whenever I've heard people talk about farming, or even dailies, it has made me cringe. It sounds like un-game, non-play - WoW masquerading as work. It just sounds wrong to me. Consciously I know that I will be doing it merrily at some point in the future but viscerally? Yeesh.
Except I couldn't get the leather I wanted.
Some kind of weird discord between my skinning skill and my leatherworking means that all the beasties I was slaughtering in Stranglethorn were giving me heavy leather and thick hide and all that. Which is lovely for cash but wasn't giving me the light and medium stuff that I need to level the leather.
So I went farming.
I thought I was going to go back to my roots in Mulgore but then I though: My mage needs wool.
And my hunter needs some stuff for engineering.
I found myself playing across my alts as a group.
Paronymous the Druid was still the main actor by virtue of being most powerful (and therefore more efficient) I sent him off to Tarren Mill because he had a Yeti that needed questing as well.
Turned out the Yeti were the perfect leather source.
And the merry citizens of Hillsbrad were great for wool and cloth. It was sweet.
One of the ways that it was different was that I essentially wasn't getting any XP. Up until now that was the only thing that spelled progress to me.
But getting everybody up to 8 slot bags and dinging some of the profession benchmarks was just as satisfying.
And the good thing was that I managed to get some quests done at the same time.
2 comments:
"Whenever I've heard people talk about farming, or even dailies, it has made me cringe."
I know exactly what you mean. Here's hoping you're able to hold off on the mindless repetition for a good long time.
Thank you, your scariness.
More bumping, less grinding; that's what my grandmother taught me.
PDSM
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