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The Fat, Happy Dwarf

The Fat, Happy Dwarf is a Lord of the Rings Online (LOTRO) blog. More humor than substance with the occasional gem of wisdom.

Author: SteelDeth

Sore Feet. Or “Who in their right-mind thought this would be fun?!”

Posted by SteelDeth Wednesday October 31 2007 at 12:41PM
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Well, after a brief hiatus, the fat, happy dwarf is back. I took a little time off to explore a game recently released from the shackles of recurring billing. I took a run a at playing a robot and an effeminate elf. You probably know what game I’m talking about.
But oh how the Misty Mountains call! I found myself logging into my stout dwarf last night to attempt to clean up some quests. Little did I know, however, that my absence was an offence to the game. An offence I was to pay for dearly.
I was hanging out around Ost Guruth when I decided to try to find a group and finish some fellowship quests. I had one taker for a quest to kill some orc warmaster. Well, for those of you know and for the benefit of those that don’t, this quest takes place north of Weathertop. I was in Ost Guruth, far to the east of Weathertop. No worries. I’m always up for a little run. That statement will have much more weight by the end of the article.
So, I trudge my way across the countryside, dodging the occasional and irritating blackbird. I’m trying to follow the bearing on the mini-map that shows my companions lovely green dot. After much cliff-diving, followed by a few moments of hobbling, I find the orc camp. My companion? He’s already at the top patiently waiting for me. A fact I appreciate.
Long story short, we dispatch the rather pathetic warmaster (Master? Really? War-apprentice maybe). I pause a moment to help my sick wife into bed. Yes, that’s right. The fat, happy dwarf is married and gots kids, too. I return to find that I’m abandoned on top of this mountain with no partner. A fact I didn’t really appreciate. No worries. This quest was a few levels below me so I should be ok.
So far, the evening has been acceptable. The quest, while a good distance from where I started, was simple. Now I have to wander and find some long ranger’s camp. Did I just say that? Sure enough. They should have named him Tonto. Get it? Tonto the lone ranger? Anyway, I wander for fifteen minutes heading to his camp only to be told that the next step in my quest was to travel all the way back to Bree to some other lone ranger’s cabin! He must he higher rank. He gets a cabin. This guy here apparently can’t translate orc. Why did you ask me to get the letter if you can’t read it? Are you even sure this is the right letter? Are you sure of anything? Must be why he doesn’t have a cabin.
Ugh. Another fifteen minutes later and I’m back in Bree. I’m short another fifteen silver pieces and my rear is sore from the pony ride but I’m here. Ok, off to the other ranger’s cabin. I’ve been there before so it is no worry. I get there only to be told by this lonely, sad, pathetic little man that I have to take this now translated letter back to the loser at the camp! Are you mad?! Ever hear of messenger pigeon? “Messenger dwarf” doesn’t work quite as well due to our short, stubby legs. What the heck is going on here? In a land of magic and ancient lore, the best these two can come up with is to send adventurers running across the countryside?!
Again, I’m left wondering who at Turbine got paid for coming up with this quest? Better yet: who approved it? Who said “Yeah, that looks like fun! Put it in there!” Both of them should be punished by being bathroom attendants at a Star Trek convention. Wearing Star Wars t-shirts.

I’m planning on taking a look at some housing next time I log on. I’m not sure why. It will only make me angry.

You want me to go where?

Posted by SteelDeth Friday September 21 2007 at 4:18PM
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Once again, the fat, happy dwarf fins himself in Bree. I’m only a handful of points away from getting Journeyman Metalsmith completed, so I head to the Barrow Downs to find some Barrow Iron Ore. Which, ironically, can be found in abundance in the Barrow Downs. Huh….
Gonzorond logs on and tries to find me, but bless his soul, that boy can get lost! He’s as bad as a Hobbit in a wheat field. He eventually catches up to me as I run wildly through the downs screaming “Ore!” ever six seconds. He still needs the Evils Final Chapter quest (see last post) but we decide to head to the Forsaken Inn to partake in a quest we both share, the Dwarf’s Duty quest.
We head back to Bree where I finish my Journeyman Metalsmith and get the quest for the completing the Journeyman tier to get the Expert tier. Ok, talk to Glasi in Thorin’s Hall. No pro……gah…what? Thorin’s Hall? As in that place on the far end of Ered Luin? Past the ENTIRE Shire? In the north-west corner of the known world? What? I thought my horse ride from the Forsaken Inn to Bree was bad. My dwarf will shed thirty pounds before he sees Bag End, let alone Thorin’s Hall. Which begs the question: When will physical health be an aspect of MMORPGs? When will I need to be aware that my hefty, overweight dwarf might have high blood-pressure and could suffer a debilitating stroke on one of these cross-country jaunts. If you see a dwarf lying and twitching by the side of the road, that might be me.
I decide that now is not the time for such a vacation. We head East.
I map to the Forsaken Inn and he rides a horse. He suffers so much lag that he sees none of the countryside between Bree and the Forsaken Inn. It just froze when he got on the horse in South Bree and un-froze when he dismounted at the Forsaken Inn. Having taken that ride before, I told him to thank whatever computer gods there are for saving him the tedium. Needless to say, he wasn’t amused.
I’d like to point something out now. Something vile and repulsive. Totally repugnant in every regard and, in my opinion, evidence of an evolutionary back-track in humanity. I was literally standing on a vein of Silver Ore. As I switched to my pick (hot-keyed, mind you) someone, and you know exactly who you are, came up and mined it from directly under my feet! My dwarf fell the four feet to the ground after it dissipated. I was totally in shock. I had always had good experiences on Meneldor. This was, by far, the most atrocious single act of selfishness and cowardice I had ever seen. I imagined my dwarf’s face flushed red in anger and disgust. His dirty cheeks taking on a very dark hue of what could easily be called ‘wrath’.
Putting this offense behind me, we made the trek to the ruins south-west of Ost Guruth. Apparently home to some Dourhand dwarf. A race, and I can only assume this on behalf of my pure-blooded dwarvish avatar, that I revile and hate. So, they would provide a good outlet as I mumble “thief”, “scoundrel” and other insulting epithets under my breath. Good thing the kids were in bed.
If anyone were to tell you that these dwarves were a push-over, punch them in the head. Everyone of those short, fat little buggers (and I’m entitled to say that), was marked an “Elite” and had a sturdy 2,000 hitpoints. Our “assault” became more of a “selective assassination” mission. And one that was wholly unfair. See, the quest requires you to acquire 24 dwarf axes off the still-warm bodies of these pale dwarf facsimiles. However, as I discovered, these axes are neither guaranteed nor is their dispersal equal. We, Gonzorond the Minstrel and myself, would dispatch a dourhand. I would click to loot it. Nothing, or maybe some small treasure, but no axe. After killing about 5 or 6 of these, I had acquired 1 of the 24 required axes. At which point, I said to my companion, “This is going to take forever! We’ve only got 1 of the 24 we need!” And his response? “What? I’ve got 6.” I paused. Stood still for several moments as I read the chat window again. “What?” was all I could muster. “Yeah, I’ve got six.” I decided not to argue the point and turned my angst from the d-bag who had stolen my ore to the programmers at Turbine who, I can only assume, are laughing in a room somewhere filled overflowing with money. Some of which is mine. I hope the bugger who came up with this quest didn’t get a promotion or anything. Heck, I’d be disgusted if he got a cupcake on launch day. Regardless, we figured it would take far to long to get the 24 we needed. Gonzorond decided to call it a night. I agreed.
We got back to Ost Guruth and I entertained the idea of making the journey to Thorin’s Hall for my crafter’s quest. I entertained the idea for a while 3 seconds. Maybe next time.
Finished Journeyman Tier for Metalsmith
Didn’t have to ride a horse to the Forsaken Inn
That dirty, low-down, sniveling, putrescent, motherless, coward who mined that ore out from under my legs. Death is too good for him.

A Good Night in Bree

Posted by SteelDeth Thursday September 20 2007 at 11:46AM
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So, last night I found myself logging on to meet a real-world friend of mine (funny how we have to differentiate that now). We usually try to meet from time to time to get some quests done and just have some light fun. However, we soon found ourselves in Bree looking for a fellowship for the “Story of Ancient Evil” run through the Great Barrows. For those of you who know, and for those that don’t, the Great Barrow is this little gem of toughness in an area of relative ease. In other words, you can run around the barrow solo for hours with little difficulty. Step foot inside, however, and giant spiders proceed to tear you an anatomically superior rectum.
So we knew we’d need help. Well, it didn’t take long to find 2 great people, Sera (whose game name is far to long for me to remember, pronounce, or type) and Halithir (you know who you are), who joined up. So, between the four of us, we had 1 Hunter, 1 Loremaster, 1 Minstrel and 1 Guardian. Not bad. We then got a fifth, Bonhom, another Loremaster, I believe. We decided to give it a go.
Not good.
A bloody battle with some retarded Wight Callers….wait “callers”? Undead, zombie types, who, typically, have had what remains of their brain ooze out of their nasal passage several decades earlier are calling each other? But honestly, what fun would it be if they just stood there and drooled on you? Unless it is special zombie-acid-drool, probably not much. So, we decided on getting another member. Enter: Betsy, another Loremaster. Amazing how 1 more member can have such a powerful impact. Granted this member came with a bear. Mmmm….bears……
Well, good thing Sera started to remember where to go because the Great Barrow is a maze. To date, I’ve never met anyone who says “Oh, golly, but I do love a crazy twisting maze filled with giant spiders, wight bowlords, and swarms of annoying, persistent and ridiculous flesh eating worms!” If you meet one….punch them in the head for me.
Well, we got through just fine. Managed to get the 2 quest items we needed and then mapped out. Only problem: My home was mapped to The Foresaken Inn. So, I take my fat, happy dwarf and trod on over to the stable and rent me a horse. For those of you who haven’t seen it…a dwarf on a horse is quite amusing. They hunch over like they’re riding some kind of medieval crotch-rocket. Well, I’m sure to a dwarf, this is about as much speed as they can handle.
After a nice jaunt back to Bree, we progressed the quest along until we were ready for “Evil’s Final Chapter”, which, when you think about it, is a total lie on the part of Turbine. I mean, c’mon! Evil’s final chapter takes place in a hole outside of Bree? How anti-climactic. However, we lost some members, Gonzorond, our Minstrel left. That hurts. Then Bonhom had to go. We did, however, pick up Llaw. Another Loremaster with a really awesome cape. So that gives us.1 Guardian, 1 Hunter and 3 Loremasters? Wow…that’s a lot of bears. Well, Betsy, in a move of total party loyalty, logged off her LM and logged in with her fancy-pants looking Hobbit Minstrel. He…she…(?) was quite the dandy.
So we quick tripped back to the Great Barrow. Yes, that’s right, this will be the third time we’ve entered this instance in one night. I’d like to know who, over at Tubine, when they were brainstorming the quests, said “Hey, I know, lets make them go through this ridiculous cave three times in a row for 1 quest sequence! They’ll love that!” Again, if you meet them…punch him in the head. Well, this time, we had to take a path no one had been on before, so that was new…so was the end boss. 14,000+ hitpoints? Are you insane? Well, good for us being stuck down there for most of time has made him a lonely, bitter wight. And, apparently, a raging ladies-man. He proceeded to chase Sera, our female Hunter in circles around the party. Literally. It was all I could do to keep up, what with my short, stubby dwarf legs! We’re sprinters, people! 
We prevailed. And the party remained intact. We didn’t loose anyone in that last fight. Sera’s apparent wight-appealing femininity helped win the day. That’s not a phrase you get to type very often.
All in all, when I logged off for the night, I had completed 3 quests completely, snagged some great loot and got three-forths of the way to the next level. A very good night in Bree.
Great Group
Good Loot
Great Instance (Great Barrow…pun intended)
Again, Great Group

Riding that unfortunate horse back to Bree. Scale leggings chafe something fierce!