3.

"Moxie flux-bridger."

"Here you go."

"Saronite stembolts."

"How many?"

"Dozen. One at a time."

Ovistine chuckled and started handing them over; Geoffar smacked each of them into place with his arclight spanner and pushed himself out from under the steam tank. Ovistine rolled out, too, and pushed her goggles up. "That do it?"

"We'll see, eh?" Geoffar said. "Hop up, we'll take a look."

She followed him into the steam tank, where he sat at the driver's controls and she landed in the gunner's seat. "All clear here, Da."

"Here too. Shall we take 'er fer a spin?"

"If you can–"

"Pfft. No reason not to. We're needing less an' less of 'em these days."

He rolled them out through the gates and started angling toward Amber Ledge. Ovistine lined her targeting sights up with a bird… a rabbit… a wind rider, and she quickly lowered her gun. "Looking fine, Da."

"Well, I thought so." Halfway to Amber Ledge, he brought the tank to a stop, and hopped out of the compartment. "Grab that bag, there, aye? Under yer feet?"

Ovistine blinked and looked under her feet; there was a small bag, the sort of sack one might expect from–

"You keep chocolate in the steam tanks?"

"Only when me girl's out helpin' me wi' th' repairs," Geoffar said, beaming. "C'mon out. We'll have a few stout brownies an' a little chat."

"Stout brownies," Ovistine said dreamily, and then, realizing, "oh–chat." She frowned. "If this is about Mum–"

Geoffar shook his head violently. "I got me beard bit off frae both directions trying t' keep th' peace when ye were wee," he said. "Ye're grown now, ye both are, an' it's yer own to decide how ye'll get along now." He sighed a little and scratched his beard and muttered, "An' anyway, I see little enough o' 'er t' pick fights when I do."

Ovistine patted his back and nodded. "Hasn't been back much lately?"

"Ye'd think she'd be ready t' stand down, but nae–Varian feckin' Wrynn has whatnot fer a veteran an' paladin like 'erself t' do," Geoffar grumbled. "Likes 'im so much, mebbe she married th' wrong lad."

"Oh, but he's a human. She wouldn't want anything to do with him," Ovistine said, and the stout in the chocolate wasn't half as bitter as her tone.

"Aye," Geoffar said, sighing. "About tha'…" He leaned back on the grass and shook his head. "Ye've a good elf, an' I know ye dinnae need me to say so, but there it is. I know he means a lot t' ye."

Ovistine nodded, still chewing her brownie–it was easier than trying to say something, after that.

"Pity yer dimensional ripper didnae make 'im a dwarf," Geoffar said gently, tugging one of Ovistine's braids.

"A wee pity," Ovistine admitted. "Would've made some things nicer, while he was changed. But I like his ears the way they are."

"Aye. Well, it's a complication, surely, but 'e's been around fer ye through thick an' thin. I dinnae 'ave a problem wi' it, an' th' Ironhammers are pleased as punch, tell th' truth."

"They do seem charmed. Talk of dwelfs or no."

"So there's tha'," Geoffar said decisively. "An' wha' else be new fer ye?"

"I don't know," Ovistine admitted. "I'm not sure where to look next. I've read everything I can get my hands on, when it comes to the Light and its sources, and the Dimensional Ripper was the best idea I'd had in months and months."

Geoffar nodded slowly–and then he tilted his head, and said, "What's so bloody important about th' Light, anyhow?"

Ovistine gaped at him, crumbs falling out of her mouth. "Da!"

"Really. This huff-an'-puff yer Mum put int' yer head all those years ago, jes' 'cause she were made a paladin–" Geoffar's expression went dark for a moment, and Ovistine shivered; she'd never asked, never been told, never wanted to know the answers to some questions about Nancie's past. "Better she hadnae been, I think, sometimes," he murmured.

"She's saved so many–"

"Ye cannae weigh it so. She'd 'ave done other things, 'ad she no' been wha' she is." Geoffar poked a finger into Ovistine's cloak-collar. "An' so would ye, ye know."

"I–what are you talking about?" Ovistine asked, frowning. "I can't imagine not being a priest–"

"Oh, aye, bet ye cannae. But did ye know it wasnae always yer calling?"

Ovistine blinked; she could only ever remember wanting to go to the Cathedral and learning the things her mum knew, taking Nancie's battlesmasher of healing and helping people with it. "I wanted… sommat else?"

"You lit fires when ye were small," Geoffar said, and there was a strange little burst of pride in his voice. "An' ye liked water. Swam like a fish, sorta glided a bit some days, when it were cold. Ye picked up th' gifts o' th' Earthen before ye could say yer letters–when tha' scorpid stung ye, by th' time yer mum got home, ye'd shaken off the poison all by yerself."

"I lit fires?" Ovistine could only boggle. "Did I set a lot of them?"

"Until I got yer attention on th' buckets o' water, aye. You liked th' buckets better."

Something about that rang true for her… there was something about… a little wooden pail, water that jumped from one bucket to another… had she poured them, or…? "You built springs," Ovistine said slowly. "Little springs so the buckets would pour into each other?"

"Aye. But some of it was you." Geoffar reached out and took Ovistine's hand in his. "Lass, I might've been a lousy gryphon rider, but I'm still a Wildhammer. Ye never thought t' look int' tha' half o' th' family? To wonder how th' Wildhammers do their healing?" He squeezed her hand. "Did ye feel a call, when it was nature-magic ye were using?"

"I–" Ovistine looked down at her hands, blinking hard. "I thought–I thought all the time with Alishe and Harken… I thought it was because of the Light…"

"Ask yerself," Geoffar said fiercely. "Is it a call t' th' Light ye've had all yer life? Or a call t' heal?"

She was quiet a while, but then she nodded, and she threw her arms around Geoffar, who let out a soft "oof".

"Thank you, Da," she whispered. "I'll think on it."

2.

It was cold at the Tournament grounds, moreso with almost everyone emptied out and gone. Nancie was still in the barracks, though, one of the last to leave, and while Ovistine had a thick fur cloak wrapped around her, it was no surprise that Nancie hadn't even noticed the cold.

Nancie flung her arms around Ovistine's shoulders, which only made her shiver more–Nancie's plate was freezing. "Ye're you again! Thank the shapers, lass, it's good t' see ye again!"

Ovistine smiled weakly and hugged back; Nancie gave one of Ovistine's braids a little tug. "Thanks, Mum."

"An' ye'll be goin' back t' Dalaran, I suppose? Or Stormwind?" Nancie stood back and set her hands on Ovistine's shoulders. "Dalaran's closer, cannae argue wi' tha', but Stormwind's jes' a wee portal away, so–"

"Mum, no–neither." Nancie stopped, frowning with confusion, and Ovistine took a step back and drew herself up to her full height–which seemed rather shorter than it used to. "I'm staying in Thelsamar."

"Oh. Ah." Nancie scratched at her forehead. "Well, yer gran-mum an' gran-da will be happy enough t' be nearer t' ye, then, I suppose…"

"Aye, I'm hoping so. Though I'd still like it if Grandpa Ironhammer would quit talking about dwelfs…"

"Hmph. As if any lass o' mine would get herself into tha' sort o'–"

She'd been expecting it, somehow; in spite of her mother's fondness for Valinar, in spite of the way Valinar had always gotten along so well with the family, there was one dwarf in the Ironhammer and Featherstoneshaw clans who'd never once asked when the wedding might be, when dwelfs might be coming along. Not even to tease.

"Mum," Ovistine said quietly, "I'm staying. With Valinar. An' I need you to be kind about it."

Nancie blinked several times and shook her head. "Ovistine–dear heart, ye've got no way t'–"

"To what, Mother?" Nancie flinched–such a human form of address, like so many little human traits Ovistine had picked up over the years. Ovistine was careful to keep herself from slipping into Dwarvish for this conversation; she didn't want that, didn't want to let her mother have even that small victory. "All right, so we're not married, and we're not the same damn race. But we did–well, frankly, it's none of your business, but I was an elf for three months, Mother, did you think I was going to waste that opportunity when it came?"

Nancie had gone stone-still and white as marble, and she had the same expression on her face Ovistine had seen when Nancie was going into a battle she didn't want to fight. "Ovi–he's a fair enough lad," Nancie said, and she was speaking Dwarvish; her voice was shaking with every word. "But he'll never give you children, and you'll never have a family with him, and he'll never be–"

Ovistine waited; she held Nancie's gaze until Nancie swallowed and finished her sentence.

"–your kind."

"He was there when I was trapped in shadow. Every second, he was there, guarding me and caring for me and helping me find my way back. He's been here for me through my memory loss, through my struggle to earn the Light back, through those three months where I wasn't me," Ovistine said quietly. "And he could have asked me not to go back through the rift, not to trade bodies back with the other Ovistine. But he didn't. What's all that, then, if it's not family and my kind and–"

Love, she thought, but stopped herself. The word hadn't been said between them yet, and Ovistine was damned if she'd give it to her mother first. She shook her head, braids flapping out behind her.

"You can accept us, accept him, or not," Ovistine said. "But this is the last word between us unless you find you can."

"Ovi–"

She was true to her word, at least; she turned on her heel and stepped away, and she dug into her pack for her hearthstone. It sent her back to Dalaran, and from there, she headed for the gryphon landing deck, flying off for Valiance Keep.

1.

The rift opened, and Ovistine squinted through it. There was… a dwarf on the other side, yes, that was promising, a tall dwarf with a strong stocky build and a somewhat erratic beard, one carrying a huge axe with traces of frost wisping out around all sides.

"–vi? Ovistine! I see you, I–is that you? Can you hear me? Ovistine!"

"Yes, it's me, but who are you?" Ovistine yelled at the rift. There was a brief pause, and then–

Another dwarf. This one with long brown braids and a terrified expression, and then–her hands came up to her face as eyes met eyes through the rift, and Ovistine's own hands flew up to cover her mouth. Me. She stretched out a hand, as if she could actually touch the rift, and the dwarf on the other side was doing the same thing. If she'd needed any proof, there it was: she and this other Ovistine had the same thoughts, the same instincts. But on the other side of the Dimensional Ripper, this Ovistine was an elf, and if the Ovistine on this side wasn't mistaken, the other dwarf must have been Valinar.

A world where Ovistine was an elf and Valinar was a dwarf. Ovistine had never thought to see something so strange, but it was there, big as life and swimming before her eyes.

Swimming–no, not swimming, no, but the image was getting murkier and murkier around the edges, fading fast.

"–this time tomorrow!" the dwarvish Valinar was yelling. "This time tomorrow, and we'll try to keep the rift open longer–"

"Yes," Ovistine yelled back. "Yes, this time tomorrow–"

The rift twisted in on itself, spun around, and finally disappeared. Ovistine sagged, her short blue braids bouncing listlessly against her shoulders.

"Well," she said softly, finally looking up at the Valinar of her own dimension, "at least we've found them."

~*~

Another few nights' worth of experiments and they'd actually rigged something up; like the original experiments, it was working fine on frogs and ale and hammers, but unlike the original experiments, they knew now how wrong it could go.

"Worth the risk?" the other Ovistine asked. "I–I don't mean to be rude, but–"

"I don't like this body, either," Ovistine agreed quickly. "I'm ready whenever you are."

The other Ovistine nodded–and then looked back behind her. Ovistine did the same, looking up at Valinar, who'd stepped away to give them some privacy.

"I wish–" The other Ovistine bit her lower lip; Ovistine nodded, knowing exactly how she felt.

"Maybe… tomorrow," Ovistine said quietly. "This time tomorrow. To give us time to–"

"–say goodbye," the other Ovistine said, nodding, still looking at her own Valinar. Ovistine sighed; she'd seen the other Valinar time and time again, and it was strange–he was Valinar, he was a dwarf, he was all she'd ever imagined during those few times she'd pictured what might be if Valinar had been born a dwarf, and yet–no. He wasn't her elf, and it was wrong somehow.

Still. Tonight, and hopefully for the last time, she was an elf. And Valinar was an elf. And on the other side of the rift, she knew the other Ovistine was thinking the same thing.

"Tomorrow," she said, and the other Ovistine nodded again at her. "This time tomorrow."

"Yes," the other Ovistine said. "We'll see you then."

~*~

It wasn't easy, being here at Valinar's home in Thelsamar. She'd visited, of course; she'd been here more times than she could count on both hands, both feet, and both braids together. But to live here–it'd been very, very different, and even if it had been far more comfortable than staying in Dalaran and trying to explain, over and over, what had happened to her, it was still–difficult.

Tonight was likely to be the most difficult of all, mostly because–she had to do this. She had to. And all the same, she had no idea what he'd do, what he'd say, if he'd think it was wrong somehow.

We agreed on it, she thought, and she could tell him so–it was clear what both Ovistines had been thinking, as they'd looked back at their elf, their dwarf, and they'd given permission and blessing in that one small look. One chance, really, perhaps never to come again.

She knocked on Valinar's bedroom door, and after a moment, he answered.

"Yes?" His glowing eyes looked down at her, but not very far. She was nearly eye-to-eye with him, rather than being several feet shorter. "Do you need anything?"

"I–aye," she murmured, reaching up and stroking her hands down one of her braids. "Valinar–you know we'll be back in our own bodies, me an' the other Ovi, if all goes well tomorrow."

"Yes," he answered, nodding. His ears bounced a little at the tips. Her grip on her braid tightened; she wanted to reach out and touch that bouncing ear-tip. Wanted badly.

She wondered if the other Ovistine was having similar thoughts about her Valinar's–beard, probably, if not the ears.

"So it means there's–this one night. An' then we're back to how it was."

"Yes?"

Ovistine sighed; like always, it'd be up to her to say it. Fine, then. Fine. Her mother hadn't raised a coward.

"Valinar–I'm an elf, tonight." His gaze was still steady, but still only curious, too. "An' you're an elf."

"Well–yes…"

"An' there's–things. That can happen. Between an elf an' an elf. That maybe we don't want to shy away from, if it's not to happen again."

He blinked at her, blinked down at her–only a little, but still–and she stepped forward and reached slowly, slowly up to his ear, her fingers tracing a gentle curve up and over his ear-tip.

"I'd like to spend this night there," she murmured, "with you, an' not in my room. If you're amenable, I mean."

He held her gaze for a long, long moment, and when she was just beginning to wonder if the answer was no, he took her hand in his and threaded their fingers together.

"Well, yes."

"An' you've got to figure they have — well, dimensions, aye? That they rip people through?"

Valinar's left ear twitched. "Yes…"

"An' — now, follow me on this one — presumably those other dimensions have folks like us in 'em, aye? Or else when we ripped through 'em, we'd just go POOF."

"I'm not so certain about that," Valinar said, but Ovistine was already waving a hand, braids flapping out to her sides.

"So what I'm thinking is: I hook up a dimensional ripper. I use Gnomish technology to pick which dimension. An' I find a dimension where I'm still connected to the Light, an' I use a Dimensional Self-Re-Compactor to squish us together."

Both of Valinar's ears twitched at that. "What exactly is a 'dimensional self-re-compactor'?"

"Oh, that. It's a thing I whipped up to join different whatsits from different dimensions, giving 'em the best of all possible worlds."

"You've tested this?"

"You should see the beer it made," Ovistine said dreamily. "Anywho, so I zap myself through the Dimensional Ripper, an' then you come an' meet me in Everlook, an' we'll see if it took. Sound reasonable?"

Valinar was silent for long enough that Ovistine actually stopped drinking and looked up at him, eyes wide. "Val…?"

"Are you really certain that goblin technology is the answer to your… problem?" Valinar reached out and put his hand on Ovistine's, and she slipped her fingers between his. "You made a worthy sacrifice for all the best of reasons. I know it's difficult, but surely there are answers apart from bringing other dimensions into the equation. What about Uldaman? Ulduar? There are so many things we don't know about dwarves, especially now that we do know about your origins as a race–what about your stoneform? It's always enabled you to heal from diseases, or poisons, or–"

Ovistine pulled her hand away from Valinar's, frowning. "Are you saying… you're not going to be there? When I go?"

"I wish you'd reconsider."

"Oh, aye, the way you 'reconsidered' when you got an axe that sucks people's souls out at the root–"

Valinar shook his head. "We've talked about this. It wasn't like that–"

"It was just like that," Ovistine growled under her breath. "It was–" Her angry mutters slipped into Dwarvish, as they tended to do; Valinar knew plenty to keep up, even with that tone in her voice. "It was just like that, and there you were, week after week, coming out wounded and me not even going through the gates because we didn't think I could help…"

Valinar reached out and took Ovistine's hand again, squeezing her fingers tightly. "It's over now," he said; his Dwarvish still had an accent, but it got her attention. "It's over, and your memories are back for good. We're safe."

"Safe!" Ovistine snorted, but at least she was back to speaking Common again. "Safe with red dragons and Mum still at the tournament grounds snapping at the Horde and–Val, when have we ever been safe enough we could afford to lose a healer? When?"

Valinar shook his head. The fact that she brought Nancie up now seemed very telling; following in her mother's footsteps–and the fact that now she couldn't–was undoubtedly part of all this. Not to mention the fact that Ovistine came by her stubbornness very naturally, not that he'd say so to either one of the Lighthammer women.

"I'll meet you in Everlook," Valinar sighed. "With a few buckets of water."

Ovistine sighed, too. "Thank you."

* * *

It was cold in Everlook despite the season; Valinar was grateful for his Ultrasafe Pocket Warmers and the earwarmers Ovistine had so earnestly knit for him a few winters back. The earwarmers reached halfway to the ground, but better too long than too short, after all.

"I'm ready," he said into the buzzbox. "Are you set up?"

"Aye, I'm here with Donova," Ovistine answered, voice a bit tinny, as usual.

"Nae fears, lad," Donova Snowden said; she sounded downright cheerful. "If she catches fire, I'll dip 'er intae th' hot springs!"

"Very funny," Ovistine said.

"Well, it's why we're out here, eh? Fire safety an' all. Why ye've got t' use goblin crap, I–"

"Ma'am! Please! I'm ready now!"

"Oh, aye, big hurry t' set yerself aflame–"

"I'm not going to catch fire!" Ovistine yelled, and Valinar held the buzzbox at arm's length, wishing he had such confidence. "I'm bloody well invincible! Just be ready when I pop out on the other end, aye? An' three… two… one…"

There was a loud poof, a pair of female screams, and then alarms were going off at the transporter in Everlook; several goblins rushed over to see what was happening. Valinar was shoved away, and as the puffs of smoke billowed out over Everlook, he couldn't help but think to himself: I saw it coming.

Except that as the smoke cleared, he realized that no: no, he really hadn't.

I'm horrified by RealID becoming mandatory on the official forums, where people are often referred by support — in other words, if we encounter a bug or technical problems, we're required to link our real names to an MMO in a worldwide public forum to get help. It was bad enough that RealID didn't offer the ability to have an official, perhaps difficult-to-change pseudonym, but this is over-the-top. Privacy may be more and more an illusion these days, but that doesn't mean I need to pay money to give it up.

Believe it or not, I am actually less inclined to call and speak to a representative to make this happen — whenever I've had two accounts and needed to close one of them in the past (credit cards, etc.), the phone representatives have mucked it up. (I once had a support rep inadvertently close my main credit card while supposedly closing one I wasn't using. I gave them my credit card number, of course — the one I wanted closed, not the other one handled by that banking institution — but…)

(Incidentally, if anyone has suggestions for what to file this under, I'm all ears. I've been categorizing my complaint under [Support Issues] -> [Terms of Use/EULA disagreement], but is there a better place?)

ETA, from Twitter: What a surprise, the support line for cancelling your account is FULL and they tell me to post on the forums. So even if I called, they'd just… tell me to post on the forums. This is stunningly bad customer service, guys.

ETA 2: From a cached post on Google that has since been removed from the official forums (and why it was removed, I don't know), discovered that part of what breaks the "cancel subscription" page is going over the character limit in the comments box. My 514-character initial comment did not go through, but my 400-character comment did. My second account is now deactivated, and expires 7/29. My next billing date for my primary account is 7/26, by which time I'm really hoping they'll have some response to the public outcry.

Here's what I eventually sent (a shortened version of the above):

It was bad enough that RealID didn't offer the ability to have a pseudonym, but now that the official forums will require use of first and last name, we are required to link our real names to an MMO in a worldwide public forum in order to get tech support/report bugs. This is over-the-top. Privacy may be more and more an illusion these days, but that doesn't mean I need to pay money to give it up.

"Look, ma'am," she said, planting her hands on her hips, "this bit with my head being half-lost to time is all well an' good, but I want my brain back. I want it back how it was."

Chromie tilted her head and looked Ovistine over, head-to-toe. "You are who you were, and who you are now. All of you is still you. What is it you're looking for that you don't have?"

Ovistine rolled her eyes and tossed one braid back over her shoulder. "We talked about this the first time I came to see you, hey? If I'm back then, before the Light went, I can still touch it. So I thought if I did a wee bit of science, I'd be able to bridge the gap between then an' now, an' here I'd be, patched perhaps, but still able to be both."

"You are who you were," Chromie repeated. "You are who you are now."

Wondering if it would really be in poor form to throttle a small gnomish dragon, Ovistine sighed and tried again. "A'right, that's true enough. I am who I was, I am who I am. But I want to be me, who I am now, even when I'm me, doing what I did then. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, no." Chromie shook her head. "The Ovistine Lighthammer of today is who she is. From what you've said, the only way to reconnect yourself to the Light, today, would be to undo what you did to sever that bond. If you were to go back and–"

"No!" Ovistine's braids flapped out behind her as she shook her head. "No, absolutely not. No, no, no. Not an option."

"Well, no," Chromie agreed. "As I was going to say, your decision has had many long-standing repercussions; while it wouldn't destroy all life as we know it the way the Infinite Dragonflight would do, certainly several lives would be affected…"

"Aye," Ovistine murmured, "and that's why it can't be done that way. I understand that. Just…" She sighed again and took a seat next to Chromie, resting her chin on her knees. "I can't keep being two of me. It's hard an' it's confusing an' it isn't fair to someone. To more than one someone." She thought about Valinar–battle-weary these days, taking more and more risks in Icecrown as Arthas's fall came nearer and nearer. Her father, in Icecrown himself, working on siege machinery, repairing all the guns he had time for; her mother, standing on the front lines outside the Citadel, keeping the place clear of Scourge so adventurers could assault the place itself. "I can't help the people I love because none of us can trust my head to stay where it's put. D'you know what it's like to have the people you care about running in to battle without you, knowing you ought to be able to guard them and keep them safe an' being able to do nothing of the sort?"

"Yes, although maybe not today. Maybe I knew how that felt yesterday, or will know how it feels tomorrow." Chromie shrugged. "But it's all the same, isn't it?"

"Aye. More or less." Ovistine nodded. "It's me what needs to be all the same. I need to be me, as I am now, and not Ironhammer along with Lighthammer. Can you help me?"

"Are you certain?"

"Made the choice once," Ovistine said gruffly, scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Could be there's other ways of dealing with it. Bringing in time itself? That's not the way a dwarf works with things. Let's get me fixed, ma'am."

"We can certainly try."

• The Beatles: Rock Band. I would like to say that I remained strong in the face of finding out that the XBox 360 has Gamer Achievements (my characters in WoW aren't achievement-happy, after all!), but that would be a bald-faced lie. I am currently working on "How Could I Dance With Another?" (100% on Expert Bass on "I Saw Her Standing There") and "That's It! You've Got It!" (350-note streak on bass on "Hey Bulldog", which I think will probably need to be done on Expert to even have 350 notes). Still, for having owned the game for less than a week, I think I'm learning pretty fast.
• Starcraft II Beta (only not). I… installed it. But I really play the Warcraft and Starcraft RTS games for the story, not the multiplayer "stomp people's faces in/get your face stomped in" experience — I pretty much did that to exhaustion in college — so having discovered that single player mode is not available in the beta, I'm not so sure I want to bother.
• Defense Grid. Defense Grid is made of win and awesome and more win and more awesome. It's a terrific tower defense game, and I'm having a lot of fun with it. Tower defense games are very me — I like defensive strategy games. (This may have something to do with why I like healer classes in WoW.)
• Portal. I recently played through Portal again. I found it just as much fun the second time through, only I was better at it this time around. That was a nice surprise! Normally I'm not so great at 3d-shooter style games.
• Cogs. I really need to reinstall this. (I recently lost my entire hard drive to a crash, so I'll have to start it over. Groan.) It's like a 3d version of Pipe Dream/The Very Clever Pipe Game, in which you move around sliding pieces of a given puzzle to get steam from one end of a pipe to another (or turn cogs which turn other cogs, or any number of other things). It has a really pretty steampunk theme, and as a bonus, you can get your menus and other information in English or LOLCat.
• The Sims: World Adventures. I can only play The Sims for so long before I feel like I've beaten the game, but the World Adventures expansion was tons of fun. I really enjoyed the puzzle-game-esque nature of the "adventures" you go on in China, France, and Egypt. I'm looking forward to the next expansion, which is coming out next month.

That's about it, I think. I'm still looking over XBox and Wii games to see if there's anything else I'm interested in playing — if you have puzzle game/strategy game/casual game recommendations for XBox and Wii, I'm all ears.

Teu hummed to herself as she applied her shiny new Gnomish Army Knife to a King's Amber. Valyrie could barely watch; such a nice gem to be cut in such an amateur fashion! On the other hand, lately Teu had been making all sorts of neat things–target dummies (some of which exploded in a terrific burst of color when Valyrie attacked them), explosive sheep, and boxes and boxes full of saronite bombs.

"Do I get some?" Valyrie had asked, only to be met by an indignant puff of air and a five-minute lecture on how bombs are not for inside the house. As if the furniture didn't need replacing anyway!

It had brought a bit of company by, which was also welcome; Teu had mentioned that the tiny braided dwarf was coming over to help Teu put together her new robotic butler, who was apparently going to clean the house for them. Valyrie was entirely in favor of this plan. When the knock came at Teu and Valyrie's door, Valyrie hopped up and went off to answer it.

The braided dwarf looked up, and up, and squinted at Valyrie. "'Ey there, Miss Valyrie. Is Teu ready to get started putting her Jeeves together?"

"The butler? Yes, I think so. She's in the workshop, as usual."

"Thanks! I'll show meself back, don't trouble yourself a titch."

"Of course. Take care, have fun, all that stuff…"

"Will do, aye!"

* * *

Ovistine pulled the titansteel bar out of her pack and placed it carefully on the table. "There! Careful with it; I cast a levitate spell on it so it didn't weigh me down too much, but it's best to wait it out an' have the spell wear off before you start working."

"Oh! Yes, yes, certainly." Teu pushed her goggles up on her forehead. "It has been so much help, you and your expertise! So many thankings!"

Chuckling, Ovistine dug into her pack again. "You're welcome, lass. An' I brought you sommat else."

It was a Construct-Your-Own-Mechanopeep set, one which Teu had cooed over in the tinkering shop the last time she and Ovistine had gone out to shop for materials. She'd let it sit there, saying something about increased fees for outfit maintenance that Ovistine didn't quite catch, but with this plan of hers and Ethel's, Ovistine had seen an opportunity, and she'd gone back to the shop early this afternoon.

Once she'd figured out how to miniaturize the gizmos, the rest had been easy. Adjusting the parts to fit logically into the mechanopeep head had been a challenge, but a very welcome one. The holo-transmitter was even set up to project an image, a voice, or both, out of the mechanopeep's beak.

And, of course, she'd wired up the transmission recorders at home, made out of several databanks she'd recovered from Gnomeregan–she'd always figured they'd come in handy someday. More to the point, she had the data ready to print out on punchcards, so she could hand them over to Ethel if need be.

Of course, all this relied on Teuthida having the mechanopeep out of her packs, and that was something Ovistine couldn't control–but given her enthusiasm for tinkering lately, and the way she could customize the mechanopeep to have sparkles all over it, Ovistine thought the chances were quite good.

The parts for Jeeves she'd brought were just a backup.

It would have taken a far more experienced engineer to figure out what was going on; the Field Repair Bot 74A had been customized, but not in a way that was too terribly obvious. Ovistine encouraged Teuthida to use that bot's parts in Jeeves' head, and Teuthida cheerfully agreed. When Jeeves was finished, and Teu had hopped up to fling triumphant arms and tentacles around Valyrie, it was a matter of mere moments–and a quick flick of a gyromatic micro-adjustor–to get the recording and transmitting units turned on and working.

"Take care," Ovistine told Teuthida. Teu bent down and gave Ovistine an enthusiastic hug, too, and Ovistine squeaked a bit when one of Teu's tentacles brushed across her ear.

"Sorry, sorry! But yes, yes, thank you so much! And for the tiny peep!" She snapped her fingers at the mechanopeep, and it trotted over to her feet. "I will keep him out of harm's way! He can sit upon my totems during battle!"

"Good call, aye," Ovistine said. "Light be with you."

"The Naaru have not forgotten us," Teu said, and Ovistine nearly laughed–so many times she'd heard that phrase, but never in such earnest, at least not from a friend. "And the elements will be at my side as well."

Ovistine had let herself out, and after she hopped into her turbo-charged flying machine, she set the controls to autopilot and put her head in her hands for a moment.

Spying on the elf I–on the elf. It's come to that, has it?

She thought about the axe again, the way the runes had seemed to pulse. The way it had been cold to the touch, the one time she'd brushed against it. It feeds on souls, Valinar had said, and she wondered if he'd really considered what that might mean.

"No," she murmured, pushing the "manual" button again and drawing the flying machine out of its spiraling northward lean. "No, Ethel's right. They need us at their backs."

An' I'll be damned if I let my elf walk in there without some way to know if he's safe. I didn't wait all these years just to lose him to the Lightforsaken Scourge.

Steady again, she headed back to the portals in Shattrath City, more than ready to be home.

Ovinia puts down roots in the Nexus

Ovinia is now 72 and shaking her leaves like nobody's business! While it will take some time for me to put down roots into the resto tree, I'm happy to have branched out this way! Healing as a tree is fun beyond beleaf!

Okay, okay, I'll stop, really.

It's a very different experience from healing as a disc priest (SO MANY BUTTONS OMG) or a resto shammy (everyone stand together in a pile! now chain heal! chain heal like nobody's business!). I haven't actually specced my paladin holy in LK, so I can't speak to that, although I can't help but think it is also very different from tree-healing. ^_^ It's a combination of constantly being on the edge of your seat and getting to relax and think "wow, my HoTs will just keep everyone alive with no problem!" the whole time. I think I was more intent on Grid than I've been in ages, though hopefully I didn't stand in much.

I also got a nice new belt and a quest-reward cloak out of the deal, which was great, too. And I got to flip Grand Magus Telestra the bird, because HAHAHA OVITREE COULD HEAL THROUGH THAT. (Being flung all over the place just isn't a shaman's favorite fight mechanic ever…)

Now that I've inflicted myself on friends (thanks, guys!), I'm tempted to wander through more random dungeons, trying my hand at this tree-healing business. I wish Ovinia had more of an RP backstory, but she is more or less a blank slate. I have a vague idea that her favorite shapeshift form is actually her aquatic form, because she loves the water, and that when not adventuring, she actually lives on (or owns?) a boat near Darkshore (and has been a part of a few different boats' crews over the last several decades), but I have no further ideas yet. Kaldorei RP has a lot of potential, but it's just never been as close to my heart as, er, certain other races. Still, it's time to get over the ancient dwarvish fear of trees, I think! It'll be fun seeing what tree-healing is like in a little more detail. (It may also make me a little less trigger-happy in my raids, so I can stop sniping so many heals out from under our excellent druid healers. Ahem.)

How often do you get impatient for something big to happen for your character? Whether it's a wedding, a breakup, a character revamp, or just having the opportunity to RP with a well-loved but rarely-seen character, there are often circumstances that prevent us from being able to snap our fingers and declare "boom! done!" about something.

When it's a matter of lining schedules up, that can be frustrating. When it's a matter of many plots weaving together properly, that can be challenging.

When you are waiting for Cataclysm to come out so you can race-change your most-logged-in character and have her take over the mantle of the character you still consider your main, it can drive you UP THE DAMN WALL.

In a way, I kind of wonder if the impatience I'm feeling toward getting to play Ovistine full-time again is rubbing off on poor Teuthida. Teuthida's major plotline, I felt, had a lot to do with Kael'Thas — she and Valyrie originally set off on the mission to retake Tempest Keep, ended up on the Exodar, and after many adventures, took the bastard down. Her real goal at this point has always been to help rebuild Shattrath City and try to help out at the orphanage. But off she trots into Naxxramas… Ulduar… Trial of the Crusader… Icecrown Citadel… not because she wants to, but because I love playing a shaman.

How's she doing now? Well, she's not really enjoying herself in ICC; she comes home smelling terrible, she's not entirely convinced Arthas can be beaten, and she simply doesn't have the same kind of background with the heroes of Azeroth that other people do. (She barely blinks an eyelash at Muradin Bronzebeard, and has yet to figure out why Muradin calling out "By me own beard!" makes several members of her adventuring party raise their boomsticks or steins in a loud /cheer.) Arthas, ultimately, worries her a lot, and she's not so sure her time is best-spent there in ICC, as opposed to being home with Valyrie or going back to Shattrath and trying to make sure a few orphaned Draenei have a really great next few years (even if the next few years are all that's left).

I, on the other hand, pretty much love ICC. The fights are challenging but not impossible, the plot is great, and I'm really excited to see how it all works out for us (PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD NO SPOILERS). I'm really having a good time there, and it's nice to know that there's still so much new content ahead of us.

Mind you, there's an RP reason for Ovistine not to be in Icecrown Citadel right now — with her memory and abilities as fractured as they are, she knows she can't be trusted to go into the front lines. She doesn't know when her healing abilities will be cut off again — it could happen at any moment. She doesn't know whether she'll always be able to harness chaos and walk in shadows, or if that's at some risk of going away with the light as well. ICC is really dangerous, and Ovistine's not about to put her friends at risk by asking them to bring along a priest who may or may not be reliable, albeit through no fault of her own.

There's still Ovi's memory to sort out before she can really tackle the other alternative, the one she hasn't even thought about yet — harnessing healing energies the way the Wildhammers do it. I have a character in play who's intended to be a possible pathway to that end, but I'm leaving my options open — I don't want to lock myself into one true storyline, since I think improvising Ovi's story has been an awful lot of fun over the past several months. But at some point, I should probably write up a quick bit on Varrim Featherstoneshire (Fanshaw), a former gryphon rider who took a very bad fall and is not even a little bit happy about being grounded for the foreseeable future.