Yes, I know there’s 5.4 notes to get to. I’m holding off on those until Monday. We still have changes and additions coming in on the PTR, and there’s been several additions in the last few days, so I want it to be as close to complete as possible before we discuss it. In the meantime, enjoy the next installment of hunter poetry.
The Eternal Hunter Soul (by Orcha of Bloodscalp)
Mysterious and dark is the eternal hunter soul
Lurking and waiting for the sound of battle to call
When the screeches of dragons or exclamation of fear
Enters his consciousness, he will know the time is here
Armed to the teeth with his sword and his gun
He jumps into battle, the beginning of fun
Always by his side, his very loyal friend and pet
The most hideous killing machine you ever met
He puts ammo in his gun, pours a flask down his throat
With a wicked grim smile, he swears a blood filled oath
I will not eat or sleep, nor will I lay down my arms
Until the beast is dead or silenced are the alarms
Then he calls out his fearsome battle shout
He pops a misdirect and starts going all out
Arcane, serpent, chimera and then an aimed
Is followed by steady shot until the beast is tamed
True to his oath, he rests first at night
When death has come and ended the fight
At the fire place he’s resting with a beer and his pet
Telling stories about heroes and beasts he has met
The Uncommonly Hairy Arms of Frostheim (by Schkrulnik Jenkins)
Frostheim has hairy arm
We use more mats for bracelets
Please shave those things Frost
The Mighty Hunter (by Nephrolepis, Cenarius)
A mighty hunter here I stand,
Looking out and surveying the land.
I see the herds of animals graze,
I feel the wind, the snow, the rain.
I am the blood elf, swift and sleek,
I am the draenei with cloven feet,
I am the orc with victory and honor,
I am the dwarf with gold and lager.
I am the tauren making a stand,
I am the night elf attuned to the land.
I am the troll avoiding the voodoo,
I am the hunter inside of you.
My pack is full and my journey is long,
the howl of my companion a mournful song.
The thrill of the hunt, the fall of my prey,
the sound of the bowstring, my gun’s good aim.
All of these things are forever unknown,
to those without hunters; they must feel alone.
By fires at night, my wolf keeping watch,
I am a free spirit, never to be caught.
I fight for my people, I fight for my land,
I fight for those that can’t and I give them a hand.
The hunter is noble, the hunter is strong,
the hunter will live in the land’s memory ‘ere long.
For the hunter, the fight will never truly end,
but we’ll always be there, pwning noobs ftw.
Ode to the Ale Scented Beards (by Dansonsdorf/Hoghammer)
At home in a tavern, or cavern, or cave
We’re bearded, and armored,
Stout hearted and brave.
With Frostheim’s laugh, and a barrel of ale
We hunters are mighty and hearty and hale.
WHU is our banner, Ironforge is our home,
With boars, and bears, and turtles we roam.
We leave devastation wherever we’ve trod,
And can’t help but notice, that elves are just odd.
We level our cannons and lead with a sting,
Have NO use for bows and sticks that go “twing.”
A rogue tries to vanish, but never confesses,
And mages get pit sweat all over their dresses.
The pallys are dead, in their bullet holed plate,
We grin at the thought of all the ‘locks hate.
From stables we swap, and our spec we will switch,
To be long distance death from the Gulch to the Lich.
So in parting I say to the whole sorry lot,
you are a WHU hunter, or plainly you’re NOT.