After world of warcraft patch 1.11, Blizzard introduced the scourge invasions... very delicious for mages considering none of the mobs were casters. More

After world of warcraft patch 1.11, Blizzard introduced the scourge invasions... very delicious for mages considering none of the mobs were casters. AND the fact that if you pulled the mobs away from their spawn point, more would respawn in their place. So just run far enough away and have the mobs chasing you evade and go back with their newly spawned friends. Here's a vid I took during this period, pulling 30+ mobs at once and burning them all down with aoe. True wow frost mage power.
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Kate's POV of Sawyer - as canonical as I could make it. Shippiest thing I've ever done - what can I say, the song seemed pitch-perfect. More

Kate's POV of Sawyer - as canonical as I could make it. Shippiest thing I've ever done - what can I say, the song seemed pitch-perfect. Music once more by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer (see 'Happytown'). Lyrics: 236-6132 is the number of my love, even though it's been some time since he made fair to answer - 'Cause he feints and fades from view like a fighter ducks a glove, though I play the highway kind and he the china dancer. If I was afraid to break or bleed, I would find someone much easier to need. But when drifters' dreams come true and when push comes 'round to shove, 236-6132 is the number of my love. 236-6132 is the number I must call, when Casey's at the bat, and Sleeping Beauty slumbers, when the frost is on the dew and my teardrops drip and fall, 'til the world is frozen flat, and the long night snows me under. On the icy nails of no return, we will strike a match and set the night to burn. 'Cause when Beauty wakes anew and when Casey cracks the ball, 236-6132 is the only number. I am not looking for no champion of my freedom; I am anything but anybody's foundling. Sometimes I feel like I am wandering, an old balloon on broken string, a bubble in a baby's dream, a lost and lonely buzzardling, a vulture beating creaky wings, while angry storms go gathering around me. 236-6132 is the number of my love, when the clouds are howling rain and the sky is black as ashes. 'Cause it's sunlight where we flew, though the trail is cold above, and the raven quakes in vain while the lightning barks and flashes. Still the clouds will fade to gray cocoons and spring the winken monarchs, nodding never-blinken moons. When the crows come home to roost and the eagle weds the dove, 236-6132 is the number of my love.
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