Stalking through the underbrush our hero Vespeto is taking the lay of the land, mapping the strange world of the black and white bears. Every time he does this he gets… smarter? No, bad word for it… more… experienced. He’s close now, close to a new level. 85 for so long… almost to 86 now.

Then the smell hits him. The rancid combination of stupidity and meth, which means only one thing- an Alliance member is close. Bumbling around the corner comes a hunter, a full fledged 90, chopping his way through the local NPCs. Vespeto’s eyes light up, for he is bedecked in his PVP gear (I don’t think he takes it off) and already stealthed. Should he dare? The hunter is over double his hit points and has more abilities and armor. That answer is always: YES.

The hunter sends his tick infested pet out to start another pull, and Vespeto leaps into action. The hunter is stunned! Knives separate flesh from bone, poison enters the blood and Vespeto feels truely alive. The hunter blubbers and squeals, it’s owner’s fat sausage fingers stabbing at the key board till it finds a defensive ability turning to face his attacker. The hunter’s sloppy eyes roll in their sockets- Vespeto? He’s a myth, a legend to scare the lice encrusted Alliance children to being less bad. He hasn’t been seen in a generation, and some say he never existed at all. In response, Vespeto vanishes into the air, waiting for the few seconds it takes for the hunter become vulnerable. Again he launches his attack, cutting, slicing, flensing. The bow is cut from the victims hand before the hunter finally succumbs to his wounds. Proud and unhurt Vesepto (85) stands over the stinking carcass of the Alliance Hunter (90). His first kill of the expansion.

Oh yes…. it’s good to be back.