Well, maybe Summer Glau will end up on Dollhouse now. She could play a cross between River and Cameron--a doll, basically. I suppose there could be a big switcheroo and she'll play a hyper-articulate mastermind.
My tweets last night;
Can't seem to get out of the Orc city.
Warcraft beats me by my poor direction.
Of game worlds I'm Ryoga Hibiki.
Guess I'm content with quest dereliction.
Tim ran my character through an Orgrimmarr instance on Saturday with one of his many level seventy-something characters (apparently he has four level eighties on that server alone), but when I logged back on by myself, I ended up wandering around for about an hour without ever finding the Goblin Zeppelin out of town. And I'm still only level 9, but I did get a lot of good swag. I think. For some reason, all the monsters in the lava caves we were in were carrying glasses of "ice cold milk". The whole game feels like Disneyland--everything feels so safe and candy coated. Not just the look, but the gameplay that precludes the idea of any real risk or danger.
I played for about thirty minutes last night and then switched to reading War and Peace. There's an illuminating contrast for you. If, someday, someone makes a war strategy game where you have only a ground level view of things, questionable information about not only enemy movements but positions of your own troops, officers who seemed courageous to you making bizarre decisions in the heat of battle, fatally wounded soldiers begging for rides on cannons, messengers who fail to deliver orders to regiments because they lose courage . . . I'd totally play that game.
No one makes video games for me. I remember Tim looking at me like I was crazy when I installed a Morrowind mod that required your character to eat and sleep. No-one wants a simulator any more . . . People don't understand how many stories come out of people trying to cope with the basic needs of survival.
I told Tim the fire monsters were carrying milk because they were clearly a bunch of milksops.