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April 4th, 2007

The Elf, the Dwarf, and the Newb

Got the dining room mostly done last night, primarily by virtue of moving the boxes of stuff out of it and into the rooms where the stuff will eventually live. I'd feel more accomplished if I'd actually gotten them unpacked, but as it was I was pretty pooped by the end.

So I tried a little more LOTRO. The game is in "open beta" stage and does not have an official RP server, but I went to the Turbine forums and found a self-declared "unofficial" RP server and logged on to it. I recreated Galadhalion (giving him the right name this time) and went through the opening quests again. About halfway through this, I was approached by a dwarf who was roughly the same level, who asked me a few "where's #slightlytougherbeginningmonster#"-type questions, showed me a few neat little emoting commands ("/bow" and "/smoke" for instance) and invited me to form a party. I figured I'd better get over my Fellowship Phobia sooner or later so I went ahead and joined.

There was another elf hanging around there at the time, whose name was obviously just his usual internet handle, who had apparently advanced to fourth level purely by fighting random critters, and had not gone on any quests or done any training, so he was a bit underpowered and seemed a little befuddled the whole time. He also had lag problems, and at one point we had to go on without him because the player had gone afk or something and the character just stood there staring off into space for several minutes.

I was a little surprised when, after being so gung-ho to set up the fellowship, the dwarf immediately started deferring to me "good sir elf" about everything. Apparently he was eager to find a leader to follow, and I knew just enough about what I was doing to fit the bill. But it worked out well, and it was nice to have at least done it, so now when I get back to the "you need a fellowship for this" type quests, I won't be quite so intimidated by the whole thing.

-The Gneech

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Happy Birthday katayamma!

For your present, here's today's Forgotten English!

cicilious
Of hair-cloth. [From] celice, a coarse cloth originally made of Cilician goat's hair; a rough garment made of hair-cloth, generally worn as a penitential robe. Formed of Old English celic, Latin cilicium.
--Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1893


Death of William Henry Harrison (1773-1841), who served just one month as America's commander in chief. Six weeks after the luckless president expired, a French diplomat known as the Chevalier de Bacourt described a peculiar memorial activity ordered by Harrison's successor: "President Tyler has just ordered a national fast of twenty-four hours on the occasion of General Harrison's death. Do you not think that it is a very singular idea in a protestant republic to make a whole nation fast on account of the death of their Chief Magistrate? It seems to me a penance altogether arbitrary, and useless in a country where Protestantism does not admit the efficacy of prayers for the dead. The official fast is explained only by the passionate desire to make an effect and to show a religious feeling, which in fact served as a base to the first little republics of New England, but which has very much cooled down."

-The Gneech

Pull the Ladders UP!

You're CHEATING!

I can totally see hantamouse pulling Gimli's stunt on me. Or me pulling it on jamesbarrett. We're a dangerous group!

-The Gneech

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Pumas! In Crevasses!

Snagged from spikedpunch: Take it!

-The Gneech

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