Hazmat's Journal of Journalyness

After a bunch of months in which I've ignored WoW Classic to finish up the basic story stuff in modern WoW (the current expansion in a nutshell: a worrisome start, some promise, and an ending full of abandoned plot threads and a final-boss-defeat cutscene that was laughable awful), I've decided to poke my nose back into it and rerolled Haz, my tauren druid, into a night elf one and start over.

I'm not abandoning modern WoW; while BFA has been a heap of disappointments overall, I'm cautiously optimistic about the next expansion, and I really enjoy playing my female Kirin Tor 'cause she's a big beefy lady who can use shadow magic to flay an enemy's mind open and also knock 'em wide with a big ol' roundhouse PUNCH. I named her Mazard and attached the "title" surname Jenkins to her. She rides a giant white rat. It's awesome.

(Thanks to The Minted Lady btw for helping me get that Jenkins title way back in the day. And thanks to Blizz for making that title account-wide.)

Anyway, sometimes one wants a bowl of the sugariest brightly-color cereal and sometimes one wants some old-fashioned but still tasty Cheerios.

Mmm, Cheerios.

I really don't have any goals for Haz other than bum around and do quests, mess around with leatherworking and other professions. No rush to get to 60. Unlike Mazard, who I want to get to 120 and prepped for going to the Shadowlands next expansion, along with one Horde alt, probably a Vulpera. One main Alliance character and one main Horde character is the basic goal; I could use the characters I have now, but I kinda wanted a fresh start on a new server, and a fresh start in general.

Which is also the reason for me restarting Haz on Classic, come to think of it.

(For those what wanna look me up, Haz is on Bloodsail Buccaneers; Mazard is on Emerald Dream.)

So far, Greysmoke's not been too impressed with the "civilized" folk she's met.

( Early Skyrim plot spoilers ahoy. )

Greysmoke at the Sleeping Giant Inn (Riverwood).

Outfitted, outside Riverwood, getting ready to head out to Whiterun.

A distant view of Whiterun.

After being attacked by people, chased a lot, and almost being murderfaced too many times, PLUS DRAGONS, Chela's decided to say 'screw it' to this whole Dragonborn thing and go live like a hermit in the middle of nowhere. I mean, why risk her neck when it seems like most of Skyrim's population wants her dead?

Bah.

(Translation: Hazmat's gonna be starting a new Skyrim game soon. Or take a break from Skyrim for some Fallout New Vegas... but New Vegas needs some work, first. So probably Skyrim. Heheh.)