Let me tell you how this relates to World of Warcraft, and you might learn a little about me in the telling. Before we get into the dream itself, you know about something else that's happening in my life right now.
I'm quitting smoking.
Inorite? I'm using the Patch for this, and "Vivid Dreams" was listed as one of the many possible side effects. They mentioned nothing of the super-surreal-acid-in-the-mushroom-coke-brownie manga dreams I had just the other night.
|This is a close as I can make myself|
post a Human on my Blog.
So here I am. I am a Paladin.
Clearly it was a dream, because I was Human. Weird, right? Human... sorry I digress.
So I'm a Paladin, and along with many other Paladins, (whom looked very much like an assortment of co-workers and friends of mine) I'm fighting the 'Shadow'. Spooky stuff, I guess. Words cannot describe our determination and commitment to overcome the awe and dread brought on by the 'Shadow', whatever the 'Shadow' might be.
Besides, well.. those words. And stuff. Again I digress.
So here I am, a Paladin, with many other Paladins, and we're fighting the 'Shadow'. We all have the sickest looking black platemail armour. With the spikes and the shiny and the spikes and the awesome. And we have weapons, mine being this giant bastard sword with runes that Smites like Mjolnir and Shines like Justice. Or a lightsaber. And we have horses. Totally badass black war stallions of death, with the glowing red eyes and the nostrils with the steam and the spikes. That is to say, everyone has these horses but one poor, wretched soul.
|omfg I can't ride this thing.|
So I'm a Paladin, a Warcraft Paladin, warrior of the Light with all the super skills of buttkickery needed to tackle the 'Shadow', of which I think is nearby, and requires an examination by Doctor Light-Brings-the-Pain-Points! (pssst... that's me) Basically I have no idea what this 'Shadow' is up to or where I can reach them to deliver the Light or whatever. It's like most dreams, in that they feel no desire to explain themselves to little ol' me.
If there is a narrator of my dreams, he is disgustingly lazy, like this pony. Digress.exe
So as a Paladin I do know that it is imperative that I impart onto the 'Shadow' some justice and fare-thee-well-thanks-for-the-wonderful-evening-thunderclap-to-the-face back kicks. But I cannot do this from the saddle of my faithful unsatisfactory steed, Mr. Crappony. I need to find a new mount before I can go off into battle, for victory and sweet phat lootz. Drops like the World has never seen before, and battles like the world has seen lots of times in films such as Lord of the Rings and Star Wars and Saving Private Ryan. Sweet.
That last one, the part where the Sarge gets a bullet right in the buttocks and dies and stuff is really sad. Very much like my depressing pony. Digression.org
Fun Fact: Phat is spelled correctly, Lootz is not. Go-go wavy red line.
So I'm this Paladin, in a dream I had just the other night. I have the sorriest excuse for a pony, ever, and I'm more than certain at this point (in the dream) there is a ribbon tied in a bow, of the saddest red hue. On the pony. The bow looks dyed from the tears of the glowing red eyes of the uber leet warhorses my now long gone companions are riding. Without me. Into battle against the 'Shadow'.
It's at these times I think the narrator has quit, or is taking a goddam nap. Or smoking brownies. What. Ev's. I think I might thoroughly dislike this pony. Nope, wait, I'm pretty sure. Diggity-di-gr-gr-gr-gression baby.
|Hello? Pony, are you there?|
Stupid camel-pony. Stoopid narrator.
I hate him.
Don't rage on bad loot rolls.