Grand Vistas

Some four years ago, I bought myself a new monitor for Christmas. It was a nice 21.5-inch Dell LCD and, as Dell monitors typically are, it was a good piece of equipment. Unfortunately, it was also a refurbished piece of equipment, and perhaps this is what led to its untimely demise. Last night, after spending a while pondering what a "timely demise" might be, I decided, on a whim, to try hooking up a certain 32-inch LED TV I had lying around. That's me: born whim-y. This particular TV set simply stopped working about three months ago, but I thought I would give it one last chance. To my surprise, it works as well as if it were new out of the box, which has me wondering what on earth went wrong a few months ago. I quickly thought, as Bill Clinton said after discovering his Secret Service detail was actively soliciting Columbian hookers behind his back, "There's an opportunity here somewhere."

I proceeded to connect the TV to my computer faster than a blizzard turning up to spoil an Al Gore speaking engagement. Imagine my ecstasy when Middle-earth opened before my eyes in full 32-inch, 1080p glory! I was more excited than Harry Potter learning Chu was opening a massage parlor at Hogwarts. My jubilation was short-lived, however, as I quickly discovered this particular piece of technology came with a trade-off. Namely, text is rather difficult to read due to excessive pixelation. I've tried tinkering with the settings, but to no avail: like Internet Explorer in the 21st century, it just wasn't meant to function in this environment.

A beautiful view of Dol Amroth by night.

And so, as Paris Hilton was told after she failed to acquire her GED for the 19th time, "We'll just have to find another use for you." This also means I'll have to pony up the cash for a new monitor, but I also get an extra TV out of the deal, in a manner of speaking. See you back in game shortly!

Padhric
Master of Toons

Itchy Palms -- Or: Why My Gameplay Will Suck More Than Usual for a While

Every once in a while I might stoop to posting about Real Life in this blog. It's not something I do lightly. Neither is eating Italian food. Like canelloni stuffed with gooey ricotta. And spinach. Topped with bolognese. And melted asiago.

Sorry, what was I saying? Oh, yes: Real Life. As absolutely no one reading this blog knows, my dear adopted Brussels Griffon named Oliver passed away on Thanksgiving Day 2014 around 9:30 p.m. We have no idea what happened to the poor pup, although he was almost 10 years old. Many smaller breeds live longer than that, but it seems it was just his time as there was no indication whatsoever that he was in poor health in any way. We think there was some sort of internal rupture, but we didn't have the heart to get an autopsy performed, so we buried the little guy in the backyard that night. Both Mrs. Pad and I did our best to busy ourselves the next day with cleaning up after the previous day's horribly interrupted festivities, but it was all for naught: we couldn't keep our tears at bay. At length we decided the best thing for both of us to do was brave the Black Friday crowds and visit a pet store in our area. Shortly after arriving, we found an adorable 8-week old Maltese, and we simply fell in love with him. We took him home and my wife named him Chuckie after the Texas Christian University defensive back Chucky Hunter. Of course, we didn't use the same spelling and neither Mrs. Pad nor I really watch TCU football or have any connection whatsoever to TCU, but my wife tends to do this sort of thing. She also named our first dog Goober -- he is a very self-important Shih Tzu and was a wedding present from my mother-in-law.

Mr. Chuckie takes a break from terrorizing Goober to explore the back yard.

Mr. Goober blinks in the sun like the crotchedy old man he is.

The boys call a temporary truce, heralding the End of Days.

Stick with me -- there is a point to all of this.

SO... we quickly developed a suspicion as to why Mr. Chuckie had languished at the pet store an abnormally long time: namely, he is possessed by the Devil. Actually, he's an adorable little guy, but he apparently has an endless supply of energy (even for a puppy) and he seems to enjoy getting into trouble and terrorizing poor Goober (Goober, you must know, is a grumpy old man -- soon to be 11 years old -- and is in no mood at all to be poked, prodded, and harassed by some insolent young upstart).

Anyway, we've had the Little Terror for slightly more than three months now, but it was just the other day he managed to bolt out the front door for an unsupervised tour of the neighborhood and its fascinating (I assume) smells. I, naturally, bolted after him (or at least I shall use that dashing term to describe my corpulent self's attempted bolt-like effort) and proceeded to chase him up and down the street while the Living Cotton Ball with Paws shoved his snout into every crevice he could find within a hundred feet of his home. I remained in hot pursuit. At that point, Mr. I-Give-ADD-a-Bad-Name saw an interesting weed or something out of the corner of his eye and suddenly changed direction. This put me in danger of seriously crushing him unless I took evasive action. Doing so, however, resulted in me eating some asphalt. 

We eventually corralled the Fluffaluphogus, but my palms and knees had suffered some nasty lacerations. I further discovered I must have landed hard on my right arm because the wrist, elbow, and shoulder were very sore the next day and it still hurts to move them in certain directions.

I tell you all of this to say: DON'T GET A MALTESE!!! Just kidding -- he's a total cuddlebug when he isn't busy discovering new ways to destroy the house. I tell you this because, like many of you, I use my hands to play LOTRO and this episode will likely make me rather less effective until I heal (How is anyone supposed to tell the difference? -- Mrs. Pad).

Pray for my speedy recovery. The fate of Middle-earth depends upon it.

Maybe. 

Alright, probably not. But it would be nice of you to do it, all the same.

Padhric
Master of Toons

Padhwe Redux

We interrupt this useful and informational gaming blog (HA! -- Mrs. Pad) to bring you this important "news" BULL-etin (get it?): there is a new Pad in our midst.

I had created an Elf minstrel named Padhwe for the new new low-level group recently started up by the Dawnbreakers (a most excellent kinship). After a few hours, however, it became clear a clarinet-wielding Elf whose name sounded eerily similar to that Nubian senator who very nearly ruined Natalie Portman's acting career wasn't quite cool enough to hold my attention for another 78 levels. Padhwe was hastily erased from Middle-earth's collective awareness.

He was quickly reborn, however, as a chick. Padhwe is now a steely eyed Elf champion wielding sharp, pointy implements and a bad attitude. She also habors a burning desire to avenge her fallen master Talagan, who sacrificed himself to stop Skorgrim Dourhand from capturing ancient Noldorin relics from the inner sanctums of Edhelion. Her wardrobe kicks some serious butt too.

I plan to periodically pen progressive posts proffering pedantic and puerile potboilers over the coming weeks (Good Lord. -- Mrs. Pad). I hope you tune in to read them. Or something.

Oh, and the new new low-level group runs Thursday nights at 8 p.m. Central -- check out the Dawnbreakers website for more details. There, I got some useful information into this post. Now where are my cookies?

Padhric
Master of Toons

A Refined Process for Refinement

Here's a useful bit of information (unlike what normally goes into this blog. -- Mrs. Pad): Crafted LI Relics are an excellent way to collect LI shards.

Every now and then you may find yourself shard-less, or at least shard-deprived. You identify the perfect set of stats for you in the form of a lovely Tier 10 LI relic, but then -- Alas! Alack! Forsooth! Meat Sauce! (wait... what?) You are short the requisite number of shards to execute the Meld! Oh, the ignominy! Oh, the humanity! Oh, the ... Elf-manity? Never mind.

Uthi Gemcutter, hard at work in the Blue Stone Garrison.

Anyway, if you or an alt happen to be at least level 72, here's a way to circumvent that little problem: head to Galtrev and talk to Bron (I recommend holding your nose in the process as Bron is locally famous for her belief that bathing causes scurvy). She's smack in the center of town, near the LI masters. Accept the quest "Forges of Isengard," run the instance (it's a solo), and select the Compendium of Middle-earth, Vol. III as your quest completion reward. Then go craft yourself a nice Westfold-level relic, trade it in at your appropriate guild-leader, and head back to the relic-master to Refine the resultant relic. You'll find yourself with 784 more shards than you had previously. Rinse and repeat daily with each character who has access to the quest. Furthermore, if you've been a really really good little Hero of the Third Age, you might even snag a nice LI rune in the process. It's a great way to game the system by using a system that's in the game. Or something.

The reasons this is an efficient process are legion, not unlike the reasons this blog is super-awesome. The Westfold crafted relic yields significantly more shards than the Vols. I or II versions while the Vol. IV version is only accessible to characters who are level 84 or higher via the Hytbold daily in the forge area. Vol. Vs, meanwhile, are still fairly difficult to acquire and involve running quite a few quests or hunting down numerous warbands in the Western Gondor regions to acquire a single one. Certainly the daily quest to acquire Vol. IVs is not a difficult one to run, but you need an extra 12 levels on you versus the Galtrev daily, plus you will have to have gone through all that silly nonsense about rebuilding the town to unlock the daily for each character you want to be able to access the quest. I have six characters with this capability, but I don't know how many other people out there are as big a loser as I am. And let's not even talk about the Fangorn dailies (shudders). It's more likely you will be able to farm the Galtrev daily on multiple toons sooner and with greater frequency, since the only barrier to entry is reaching level 72. It also yields 1,200 reputation with the Riders of Theodred, who have some very nice jewelry for folks in the level 75 range.

There, that's my good deed for the year. Now where are my cookies?

Padhric
Master of Toons

Alas, Poor Yorick! I Never Read Your In-Game Biography

Benford Billingsworth, Explorer and Adventurer.

If you want to know what I think (and if you don't I have some bad news: you're in entirely the wrong place), the biography tab in the character journal is woefully under-utilized. Sure, it takes some time and creativity to devise a story line for your characters and write it up, but what better way to personalize your toon? Especially since Turbine's idea of variety where character creation is concerned is about as diverse as the front row of a Klan rally?

There are times when hapless gamers like myself will tromp aimlessly through Bree or some other major way-station and "people-watch." We do this because we appreciate the game's intricacies, because we enjoy the social aspects of LOTRO, and because, most likely, we're bored. Imagine, if you will, our distress when we click on player after player only to find that Biography tab empty! Words cannot describe my disappointment. Even though they just did, by describing how indescribable is my disappointment.

Literary loopholes (and asinine alliteration -- Mrs. Pad) notwithstanding, do know there remains yet at least one brave adventurer in Middle-earth who actually looks for and reads those Biographies! And, if you feel so inclined or (more likely) have been guilt-tripped into reading mine, be my guest. They did take an awfully long time to invent and write down. In fact, I think it delayed my second breakfast by more than six minutes.

Padhric
Master of Toons

Whither, The Artisans' Circle?

People often ask me, "What do you plan to do with The Artisans' Circle?"

Okay, actually no one has ever asked me that before. That's because The Artisans' Circle (TAC) is a vanity kin created for my wife and I on LOTRO's Vilya server, so I don't recruit. I've toyed with the idea of turning it into a real kinship someday, but it's been eight years now, so I doubt it will ever happen. Besides, I've been a kin Officer before and seen the grueling demands placed upon kinship leaders and founders and it just doesn't look like my bag. In fact, I've often thought running a kinship wasn't at all unlike buying a luxury vehicle or birthing children -- you shoulder an insane amount of responsibility then spend the rest of your natural life desperately trying to convince yourself it was worth it. If you're wondering what the future holds for TAC (and if you managed to find this blog entry and even took the time to read it there's an off-chance you just might care), the answer is: not much.

The Artisans' Circle kinship logo.

TAC was chartered to function as a hub since Mrs. Pad and I both enjoy crafting, but she's never been much for the social aspect of the game. The facade of a kinship, then, enables us to hoard crafting materials, abuse the swift-travel skill for various reasons, hang beautifully crafted decorations in the kinhouse, and generally look more important than we are. After all, if you don't have a "huge yard" hook on which to place that super-awesome chickenball field decoration, why are you in the game at all? Priorities, man. Priorities.

In all seriousness, I need to pee. Okay, now I'm being serious: if there was someone out there with a burning desire for self-flagella-er..... to co-operate a kinship from essentially the ground up but you don't want to wait forever to get a kinhouse and reach rank 10 (which happened so long ago the notion the pop music charts would one day be topped by a completely unknown, galloping, chubby Korean guy seemed impossible and even undesirable), then let's chat.

But I warn you now: I'm not nearly as interesting as this blog makes me seem.

PadhricMaster of Toons

The Beginning

Many years ago, the Elf lore-master Malloren was resting at the refuge of Edhelion en route to the Gray Havens to sail across the Great Sea to the Undying Lands. Ever since the Fall of Thangorodrim, his younger brother Mallacai and he had disagreed about whether to remain in Middle-earth and continue to struggle against Morgoth's servant Sauron, who had escaped destruction at the hands of the Valar. While Mallacai was determined to remain in the mortal world, Malloren was convinced no ultimate victory over Evil was possible and he despaired over the destruction of Beleriand.

Malloren, Founder of The Artisans' Circle.

And yet, even as Malloren had finally decided to leave his younger brother behind, fate intervened in the form of Skorgrim Dourhand. His attack on Edhelion claimed the lives of many of Malloren's closest friends and halted his journey toward the Havens. Fearing for his brother's safety, Malloren turned eastward, hoping to find Mallacai and tell him of his change of heart.

While passing through the Lone-lands, he encountered the Wizard Gandalf, who Malloren knew as Olorin from the Blessed Realm. When pressed for advice, the Istari revealed a daring plan to destroy the Dark Lord by melting the One Ring in Orodruin, though he still had no idea how that was to be accomplished. But the time would come, Gandalf said, when the Enemy would need to be both driven out of the North and resisted at every turn so as to keep him blind to the true threat. Malloren grasped Gandalf's strategy and promised to do what he could to support him.

From his experience in the War of the Jewels, Malloren knew the abilities of all the Free Folk to resist the power of the Darkness was greatly decreased. Nothing in the world could hope to match the glorious ranks and companies of the Noldor in their shining armor. Nor could the Men of this latter age at all resemble their courageous forebears Beren or Elendil. Nor still could Durin's Folk ever again field the incredible equipment from the Elder Days. For this reason, Malloren established a kinship of crafting masters from across Eriador. Their mission: to adventure across Middle-earth in search of the rarest materials with which to craft the most powerful gear the Third Age would ever see. In this way, the Free Folk could turn back the forces of darkness from their homes and occupy the Eye of Sauron in many places at once.

The Artisans' Circle original kinhouse.

Through a chance meeting, Malloren met a captain of Rohan named Guthinwe whose detachment was sent north on an errand from Theoden King to the Rangers of Esteldin. Guthinwe lent his resources and considerable charisma to build an initial membership. The cohort quickly grew, and the young captain purchased a sizable meeting hall in the southern reaches of Bree-land. Thus was The Artisans' Circle born.