The sun is out.
The sky is blue.
And so are you...
won't you come out to play?*
Mat is quietly resting, with a cool Highland Spring water-drenched cloth on her head before heading out into real-world dungeons, storage closets, and the like: she was so close to becoming exalted with the Wildhammer clan, she thought she'd just pop in the world for a bit, get some things taken care of, and go enjoy some rare sun on her way to her real life tasks; also, being extremely close to enough Valor Points for another piece of epic gear, she thought, "Sure...what's the worst that could happen?"
Her Voldemort. Her Moby Dick. Her Joker. Her Plankton.
(Hey - his name would be great in a dirty limerick!)
But if she had to die again, she did so with a charming, roguish group in a PUG, all admittedly working off hangovers, and completely funny, jovial, and kind. No one took anything too seriously. Which is how it should be. She stayed very quiet, until the charismatic tank and healer dashingly took her under their wings offered her preemptive advice. She told them she would man-up, and stay tough. (Sometimes Mat's vulnerability is her greatest strength...sometimes. Sometimes it's just bloody annoying.)
They all wiped first time through. No blame, no shame.
Second time--she did her valiant best. Last shammy standing. (Unfortunately, this put Mat on the other side of Ozruk, away from the safety of her group.)
Third time --she is immediately killed; they all ranged and casted away, Ozruk down, she missed the fight again, but did get a good necklace out of it. Felt very unearned, though.
My friend, who checked in on me: Thank you. Just to be clear: there was no expectation that you would fight time zones and summoning stones to come rescue my tail. Not at all. I know you are well-past Ozruk on your journey. But at some point I need closure. So, the word of the day is "beseech." Please sir, consider going in there with me at some point and showing me what's what. I will pay all repair bills. And perhaps throw in a Tasty Cupcake or two. And this request is for all of my friends, my very talented, buffed friends: you're my only hope.
In the meantime, training continues.
And the sun is out.
Postscript: What happened to the duck metaphor, Mat?