Extreme Makeover: Armor Edition!

Ok, ok, so today's title is super corny, but deal with it. Gosh, now I feel like even more of a nerd than I did when I realized I was designing clothes for my Perfect World character.

I'm sorry, but the people who designed the women's armor in Perfect World were definitely men. Bra, miniskirt, and stiletto-heeled hooker boots are not sensible battle attire.

The boots probably bother me more than anything else, mostly because I hate running in heels so much that I project my own pain onto the sprites.

My alternate character, Siloam, can probably get away with the heels. Since she's a cleric, she spends most of her time hovering benevolently over the field of battle dispensing healing spells. Meirizhu, however, is an archer, and archers do a lot of running away from werewolves.

So I took the heels off the boots, covered up most of the vital organs with metal or leather, and gave her pants. I won't try to fool myself or anyone else into thinking that this new armor is 100% practical, but I think it makes a little more sense.

The color scheme is still up for debate. I have six prepared at the moment. You can find all six here if you're interested. The one shown here is my favorite, but I'd like to hear any suggestions.

Siloam's next. She's going to get a pretty new robe.

Darn me for being nice!

I was stood up twice this evening.

The first was a bossy little 14-year-old prima donna Blademaster. I was playing as Siloam and understandably having some difficulty fighting alone, so I squadded with her, since we were both after ghouls. Then she asked if I would stay and help her with wolfkins and quillhogs.

Because I am a nice person, I said yes. Because I am a nice person, I also let her have some of my mana potions--which, by the way, are far more important to me as a cleric than to her as a bm. I only had 16. I split them with her.

Mana potions aren't expensive, so giving them away isn't a big deal. However, it is customary, in polite circles, to make some sort of offering in return, just as a gesture of thanks. A few soft furs, for example, or a couple of dull claws. This girl gave nothing. Nor did she offer to buy me some when we got back to town.

And, of course, I was too nice to ask her to.

She also had the nerve to bitch at me when I ran out of mana and couldn't heal her constantly.

She was a bm. Her name involved the word "tanker." She should not have needed continuous healing spells.

Long story short, for some reason I agreed that we would stay together for our next quests. I went, picked up the quests, sold my furs, bought some replacement potions, and sat outside the city gates to wait for her.

After about 20 minutes: "Sorry, I have to go!" she said. Leaving me to do all my quests by myself.

Enter a gallant archer who also needed help. We got along quite well. He was sturdy and dealt good damage. He complimented me on my healing abilities. Quests were a breeze. Being in a squad with him was so pleasant I agreed to help him on quests I had no need for.

When it came time for the next round of quests, we stuck together. Or, at least, we planned to. Until he had to sign off suddenly. After I had waited for him at the spawn point for about 20 minutes.

Elves are snobs.

Above you see three Clerics and one Archer. Having a squad of three healers and one ranged attack is not particularly efficient, but it is fun.

Few things are more hilarious than a squad made up entirely of 4 or 5 female Clerics running around trying to kill things. (According to one of my faction mates, few things are also hotter.)

This happens pretty often when I'm playing as my Cleric. I always ask for help, since it's really hard to do things alone as a Cleric. The people who answer my pleas for help are those who understand my position--basically, other Clerics.

That's why so often I find myself in a troupe of lightweight chicks frantically throwing spells at Ursogs and dying after every other skirmish. One evening it was a constant parade back and forth between the respawn point and the enemy territory.

If you don't let it frustrate you, it's amusing.