Well, it's that time of year again -- that special time of year when a young man's thoughts of buying BlizzCon tickets turn to a creeping psychosis. When dark whispers echo from the cavernous depths of the serpentine tunnels beneath the earth's crust, their walls emblazoned with pulsing eldritch symbols unknown to any living civilization. When dreamers with minds unguarded bear witness to the psychic rumblings of beings lost to time. If you listen closely you can hear it, sussurating even now...
Ïa! Ïa! BlizzCon tickets f'thagn!
Oh, and it's also that time of week (Saturday) where we check in with our many writers (and one Peruvian pygmy mummy) and see what the heck they're doing this weekend. The two may intersect in ways you probably anticipated.
So let's see just what's causing our writers' sanity levels to drop dangerously low this weekend.
- Adam "Holisky: Trying to pull off 75 daily quests from Friday through Sunday.
- Alex Ziebart: I won't be doing anything. I profaned an ancient tomb and now I've switched bodies with a Peruvian pygymy mummy! A primeval headhunter is running around in my body! If only I could alert an expert in mystical anthropology who could provide a tincture, or perhaps a talisman, to break the spell.
- Allison Robert: Praying my connection holds through an Ulduar-25.
NO, THIS IS NOT A HORRIBLE DREAM, DEAR READERS. THIS IS REAL LIFE. AND THERE'S MORE, LURKING JUST BEYOND THE JUMP.