Hooray for a holiday weekend! I was able to get an amount of playtime in that a sane person would consider "unhealthy" and my virtual treasures reflect it!
I began by honoring and extinguishing all of the flames in the various zones I could access, earning considerable experience and trauma in the process. In many cases, it involved quite a bit of running through insanely difficult zones and served as a "preview" of zones that'd be adventuring in the future: the dark forests of Felwood, the plague-ravaged lands of the...err...Plaguelands, the snowy icefields of Winterspring, the Jurassic-themed Un'goro Crater, and Slithis, a land overrun by giant killer insects, among others.
In addition to the experience granted by the fires themselves, I earned a tidy bit from exploration and as my maps filled in, advancement through level 44 went hastily. I snagged the flames from the two remaining Horde capital cities-- the Undead of the Underdark never knew what happened and I escaped with my prize unscathed, but capturing the blood elf flame was a painful walk of attrition, summing up to no less than a dozen deaths in the process. By the time the festival ended, I was able to complete one of the "major accomplishments" and danced happily at a ribbon pole, bedecked in full holiday gear, earning the "burning hot pole dancer" achievement. I'm content knowing I did as much as I could at my level.
A few days previously, I had quit using the "level guides" and instead just kind of went where it felt right, using only the names of the guides as a guideline to hit areas when I was running dry on ideas (example: Tanaris (41-42)).
As the weekend progressed, I rolled like an icy ball of hurt through the zones, watching level after level breeze by in a never-ending game of "just one more quest". At some point I unlocked the achievement of "500 quests completed" and I grinned outwardly with self-satisfaction. (Technically, you're always grinning inwardly). I revisited zones as I turned in quests, did them in batches to strive to be as efficient as possible, and zones that were once unimaginable horrors now became my hunting grounds.
Every second level brought new spells and each level granted me a bit more oomph to my utility as a frost mage. I attained a skill that randomly lets me throw free-to-instant-cast fireballs, my bolts did more damage, my snares lasted longer. But at level 50, everything changed. That level gave me Steve.
Steve is a Water Elemental and he's mine. A mage is not normally a "pet class", that distinction being reserved for the Warlock, but frost bends some of the rules to make up for the fact they are on the low end of the DPS stick. Now... I had a pocket tank/nuker. The water elemental-- in Aion terms-- does damage like a wind pet (hitting maybe 1/3rd of my own DPS), can take damage like a earth elemental, but holds aggro like a toddler. He only lasts less than a minute with a few minutes between castings, but it was enough to seriously jump up my average DPS.
Then, at level 51 in an auction house...I found godhood.
I had come to love a nice Frost Aura glyph that caused my roots to last longer and replacing it was the last thing on my mind-- until I saw it. For the low price of 30 gold, I could possess... The Glyph of Eternal Steve, err...Water! My elemental would not have to be re-summoned. That sick DPS upgrade would last...forever. The only tradeoff is that Steve wouldn't be allowed to root on his own. Oh gosh, how EVER would I survive? /sarcasm As it is, I can root and snare from just about any key on the keyboard (hell, I could probably root something with a /spit emote), and truth be told, I never used Steve's special ability.
From that point on, Steve and I tore apart the landscape and all those who dwelt upon it.
My exploits were not without some Really Interesting Moments, however...
In Un'goro Crater, dinosaurs stalk the earth. I'd been fighting human-sized raptors for a while now in the various zones. Now I was pitted against diametradons and pterodactyls as well. A quest in the zone sent me looking for the remains of an expedition, in a section known as "Terror Run." I quickly learned that it was named that for a damn good reason.
The monsters there were huge-- think dinosaurs the size of well...dinosaurs, with stats that befitted their measure. Even if I had Steve at that point, it would've been tossing a wet snowball into a Volcano of Hurt. I darted this way and that on my mechastrider, trying my best to avoid attracting the attention of several flesheaters and failing miserably at the prospect. The first massive blow popped my ice barrier (a protective field) and left me defenseless. In the distance, I spied the camp. Popping my shield froze the monsters for a second and gave me enough time to close half the distance to my goal. That's when I discovered giant dinosurs run REALLY fast.
I knew now this was a suicide run-- but could I make it in time? The second blow knocked me off my steed and left me "dazed". I used a special racial ability to clear my head and blinked forward 20 yards and recast my ice shield. I was nearly to the camp! I now had three diametradons in hot pursuit-- and with a sickening wrench, my ice shield dropped again. It would be half a minute before I could use it again-- were it not for "cold snap", a truly last ditch spell with an insanely long cooldown that resets the cooldown of all frost-related spells.
Cold Snap! Frost Nova! Ice Barrier! Nearly there!
I hit the camp and began searching for the needed supplies, just as I'm surrounded by 500 virtual tons of anger incarnate. My life lasted about .05 seconds longer than my ice barrier that time, but I was able to collect the supplies in time.
In the muky depth of Felwood, I summoned an ancient spirit of the forest with a magic flute (why not?) and released it from its bonds. It was large, +3 levels to me, and was destined to be A Really Bad Escort Quest. It needed to escape the tainted woods and began a horrifically circuitous lumbering (sorry) route through the densest packs of creatures it could find. Steve and I slaughtered treants by the grove as Skippy the Wood Lord (or whatever his name was) off-tanked. The monsters were a couple of levels above me, but it would be what lay ahead that nearly resulted in a timber tantrum (not sorry).
Skippy the Woodlord turned away from a particularly nasty-looking pack of treants and headed towards a small riverlet, that was positively rife with "toxic elementals"-- greenish-colored Steves that were totally immune to water and ice-based spells. Oh, crap. With three of them on Skippy, his health was depleting, thanks in no small part to stacking poison DOTs they were laying on thickly. Steve was useless and it was down to me. Unfortunately, I bit off more than I could chew and died a horrific poisoned death after felling two of the noxious beasties. I failed the quest by leafing Skippy in a larch. (Ok-- seriously stopping that now)
Fortunately, the graveyard was very close and I was able to resurrect and restart the escort quest before anything had re-spawned. Those five minutes may seem eternally long when waiting for a mob to spawn, but are oh so short when escorting a pine tree through a forest. In time, we came to the stream of woe and crossed it without much trouble. One at a time I can handle well enough. We ended up on a road just outside the forest and Skippy just stood there stupid and mute. After a solid half minute, I wondered if the quest was glitched or if there was something I needed to do. Suddenly, 3-4 of the fel trees appeared and bum rushed us. Trees I could handle! Laying down a rain of blizzardy doom, they literally splinted before the onslaught and Skippy thanked me for the rescue.
By Monday night, I had reached level 54. The /played command told me it had taken 4 days, 19 hours to reach this-- not exactly a world record, but respectably swift. Enough to surprise Brian, I think. Now...where to go next?
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