The Dwarf, nay, the man and legend.
… and it creates a vacuum. A hole, where there once wasn’t one. Much like a star that implodes in a flurry of destruction, and then caves in on itself and sucks up all those near, leaving a giant, gaping, blackened hole which nothing can possibly replace, or plug.
This, my fellow hunters, is probably one of the saddest days in the history of this community.
Big Red Kitty, also known as Daniel Howell, an affectionate dwarf, a proud teacher, and an ace hunter, has decided to step down from the blogging community, and from the World of Warcraft.
I would just like to let that sink in.
It did? Good.
I would like to say a few words concerning BRK, who I am proud to have played the same class as.
Daniel, I remember when I was a fresh 70. My bright hunter eyes were all over the place, and I had no clue what to do. I was happy, but I was lost. After a few months, I began to become fed up with being a typical hunter. I hungered to be something better, and my friends(who had never played hunters) recommended your blog.
I found my way to your site, and I was astounded. The amount of information, the amount of places your blog took me to, was astronomical. You taught me about Shot Rotations, you taught me about cockroaches, Death Kniggets, and how to be the big, red, bestial hunter I am now. I looked up to you and thought you were the best. I still think you are, and will always think as much.
Your boistrous, flagrant, outgoing, and mirthful attitude reassured me that I could be good at this game, despite my inability to be good at a good number of games. It taught me that I could have fun doing so, and that those ninjas, flamers, and jerks couldn’t ruin it for me.
Then, summer of 2008, I was preparing to go to University. I could not play while at the University, and all I could do was read and theory-craft. I read everything you wrote, and enjoyed every minute of it. My jaw dropped when you showed us the protodrakes, I cheered when you wrote about the spirit beast, and I drooled all over the pet videos detailing exactly how each and every one of them worked. I ranted and raved about the changes for hunters, about how awesome we were going to be.
I remember laughing really hard when I saw the angry baby, and then my jaw dropping when I saw the title of the article:”The Great Hunter Nerf of 2009″. I remember when what you said would come to pass did, and I remember thinking that Blizzard should have listened to you in the first place.
At this point, I had been writing on the forums a lot. But then, the forums could not contain what I wanted to say anymore. I wanted to say so much, but the forums were just the wrong place. Too many people starving for Blue posts, too many keyloggers, and way too many people who thought the world was going to end whenever a patch dropped. You always taught that despite the worst possible circumstance, hunters would learn to get past it, to live with it. That these people didn’t understand that bugged me.
I then sat staring at your webpage, thinking about how to try to curb the QQ. Then it hit me: I should write a blog.
5 minutes later, slowwolf.blogspot.com was born, and it’s noobishly noobness was evident. I posted my first post, bent on trying to show a silver lining to the latest nerf. Later on, I asked you for help on how to move to WordPress, and you sent me an e-mail back with all the info I needed. As always.
All this time, I read your blog. I looked at what you had to say. I read it all, and I loved it still, but now something was different: I could write what I liked about it. If somehting seemed iffy, I could do something about it in a place of my choosing. If I agreed with something, I could further explore why.
At this point, I was reading well over 60+ blog posts a day. I was taking as much info as possible and trying to churn out things I thought were interesting. Things I thought were informative, things I thought that could teach other hunters.
In short, I wanted to be to other people like you were to me: a beacon of knowledge when people needed it. A teacher, a role model, and a friend.
Daniel, I respect you a great deal. I think of you very highly.
Dan, you’re leaving us, and for all the right reasons. I love Mrs. Klin, and I would give anything to be with her, and would sacrifice all I could to see her. I think I can understand why you are doing this, and I fully suport your decision. I am cheering you on, and I hope you, Mrs. BRK, and BRK Jr. all find the happiness you deserve. I hope you continue to teach everyone around you to enjoy what they do, to be able to have fun doing it…
I hope that, like what I think of you, I hope that everyone thinks of you as a great friend and teacher.
BRK, you are, and always will be, the king.
/salute
