In my life as a mmorpg player I've always been the guy in the back.  The support that keeps the guys up front from falling over.  I was their guardian angels if you will, watching them as they died and preparing to turn high tail and save my own skinny caster's behind.  Life was good but I asked one question, why do fighters get all the chics?  And so to answer this question for the first time I created a fighter.  Not any kind of fighter mind you, but the most commonly used Wa/Mo combo.  But with this new experiment I would have to learn new techniques that I have never explored before and finally be the brave little man in front risking his life for the greater good.  Too bad im a born coward.

Tanking was a foreign concept to me.  Why would you want to go up and get your head kicked in while everyone else sits back out of harms way?  Sure you earn the respect of your peers but you wont be able to receive much respect when your blacking out from the loss of blood.  So in order to better my tanking abilities I drew up some new plans to be the perfect tank.  The first one involved what I like to call "The Fugitive".

In my days of Everquest I liked to be the speedy bard.  Because I was the fastest one of the groups I was in, I always won the job as the "puller".  Which consisted of running up to a monster, kicking him in the groin, running back to the group, and running around in circles until the monster got tired of me and attacked someone else.  So I adapted this plan to work with a guild wars tank.  The first step of "The Fugitive" is to proceed to kick a monster in the groin, such as the previous everquest example, then to run in circles (like an idiot mind you) as the creatures followed me and the rest of the group took the critters down with their fancy spells and sharp arrows.  It was the perfect plan.

After many attempts and dead group members later, I decided to abandon "The Fugitive" and develop a more subtle plan.  I have always been an advocate of bringing irony to a fight and with my next plan you could cut the irony with a spoon.  This new plan was called "The Tank".  Yes that's right ladies and thick eye-browed gents I was going to bring GuildWars into the industrial age with my version of the tank. 

To prepare for this plan I used Toot Mehorn, the crossed eyed ranger, to find the necessary tools to complete this plan.  Not being the technofabulous guy my constant nose bleeds and ear infections would lead you to believe, I decided I would need some experienced advice in building this war machine.  And who is more experienced at creating such dangerous mechanics?  The race who's women grow beards; the Dwarves. 

After a gathering of Kryta's finest fasion designers Toot Mehorn was dressed to travel across the frozen dangers of Shiverpeak.

With a warm good bye to all his dieing fans, who locked the gates behind him and put a "No Toots Allowed" sign behind him him, he set off into the sunset, leaving a moderate cliff hanger which will leave only a small percentage of the audience curious about his further adventure ahead of him....

To Be Continued in "The Meat In Team: Part 2"....