“Savage Scout” Set
Class: Rogue, Monk, Druid (your weaponry may vary)
H: Scout’s Hood | S: Mantle of Darkness | Cl: Not shown
Ch: Vest of Welcome (Ebon Filigreed Doublet) | Wa: Taut Dragonhide Belt | L: Bogpaddle Leggings
G: Savage Handwraps | Wr: Not shown | B: Swabbie’s Booties
1h Axe: Silversnap Bottle Opener (because if that doesn’t look like a goblin weapon, I don’t know what does)
Dagger: Gutgore Ripper
Status: Finished
Thoughts: Breaking news! This just in! Bombelina dresses like an actual rogue, confuses the hell out of people, world explodes. Details on the news at 10:00.
…
Poor Bombelina.
Ever since she landed in Outland, she had a deep suspicion that something was not quite right. She never had quite enough energy to do all the things she wanted to, and it often felt like she was jabbing at mobs with a couple of sticks. By the time she positioned herself correctly to stab something in the back, that something would already be dead or halfway across the room. She liked her routines; getting in stealth was important and so was pickpocketing before the first strike (“Gotta get yer money’s worth,” she’d say). But groups who ran from fight to fight left little time for that sort of stuff, leaving her feeling out of sorts.
Then there came The Day, as she calls it, when she had The Realization. She was in a Violet Citadel LFD party, and for the first time ever, people started quoting Recount numbers at her. She had always assumed that DPS numbers didn’t REALLY matter as long as you were seen fighting things and said things went down before party members did. But it seemed she had passed some sort of threshold where Obviously Doing Stuff no longer sufficed to cover for her poor fighting skills. She was no longer ignored. No, it was fight, then Recount. Fight, then Recount. Fight, then Recount and a Polite Exchange of Words because OMFG really guys, you gonna keep on Recounting at me after EVERY FIGHT?
It was then that Bombelina saw just how awful a Combat rogue she actually was. All she was good for was opening boxes and pickpocketing gnome effigies. And if she was honest about it, that’s all she really wanted to do, anyway.
Still, it was depressing. She’d always managed to cover for her not-quite anywhere near up-to-snuff DPS by being chatty and pleasant, but now it seemed nothing could compensate for her wimpy chicken arms. Bombelina started letting herself go, so soon her gloves didn’t match. Then her boots didn’t match either. Eventually, her belt clashed, and Bombelina prayed to Gawd that no one saw her cloak and helm before she managed to hide those. She put on a tabard to cover as much of the sartorial disaster as she could, but somehow, it did nothing but make those boots uglier than they already were. She stopped going out in groups unless she knew the tank or the healer, fearful that without an Important Defender, she would almost certainly face snark she did not want to deal with.
In short, she became a goblin hermit of sorts. She never left the Slums, and was usually seen hanging out by the mailbox, waiting for someone – anyone! – to send her another lockbox. Lockboxes don’t quote Recount at you, and they always have TREASURES.
It was clearly time for an intervention.
A friend drew her out to Northrend with the promise of killing All The Things so she could skin them for leatherworking mats. Leatherworking had gotten depressing too, you see. Not wanting to say no to such a nice offer, Bombelina went out questing with him. They murdered all the things with skins in Grizzly Hills (though you cannot skin all the things with skins) and leveled a bit. Afterwards, she started to leave the Slums more often. It was hard to go outdoors looking like such a hot mess, though, so it wasn’t long before she decided that another transmog was in order.
Here, we have the results. Her DPS is still godawful, but at least she can /dance with pride.
That Was an Accident! 