You are hereHerd of Cats vs. the Mothrakk III

Herd of Cats vs. the Mothrakk III


By Coxxorz - Posted on 11 November 2009

So we had another good round of Borderlands last night.

Everything was going fine until Blackwalt left, when we suddenly got the bright idea to have Aku host. This was so we could tear through some of the early missions and help him level up quickly (not to mention score some easy loot for ourselves).

Everything was going fine until Fungster vetoed a couple of mission choices that would have taken us too far for his tender little legs to keep up. So the next thing I know, we're finishing up a mission that involves shooting down a certain humongous winged nemesis of ours. Now we're getting pretty good at vanquishing this old foe, but it's still a pain in the ass because it takes a while if you're not fond of dying. And dying at Level 30 can cost tens of thousands of dollars a pop. Although it's not like we have anything else to spend our cash on...

Herd of Cats (i.e. Coxxorz) vs. the Mothrakk IVHerd of Cats (i.e. Coxxorz) vs. the Mothrakk IV

After everybody packed it in early, I thought I'd whip through a couple of very early missions I never finished, hoping to finally do away with those pesky "The host is too far ahead in the campaign...." messages. That and the ridicule I face for not having activated the teleportation network in my game yet.

So I was just cruising through the now-trivial tasks assigned to me; swatting bandits like mosquitos, dispatching Mad Mel with a rocket launcher while doing my nails, etc. Even the once ominous-looking Sledge didn't even require emptying an entire clip into.

But it wasn't until I was puttering around, doing some menial task like painting mailboxes, when the terrain started to look hauntingly familiar. Yes, I was once again in the territory of that pestilent winged beast. And yes, that was fire about to rain down upon my head.

Another 15 minutes later and I was once again on my way, although this time no one was around to take my picture. I motioned at one of the few remaining locals, but he shrieked and dove down a tunnel of some kind, apparently preferring the cuddly company of an acid-spitting adult Skag to my now bristling Level 32 Fearsomeness.

Too bad, I had a new gun I wanted to show him.

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