I am a Level 10 Night Elf Druid.
Confession: I’ve been playing World of Warcraft. I know, I know. I tried it last year but didn’t get hooked. Rodd plays it all the time though and, well, I enjoy spending time with him. So when he recently griped about the lack of smart players in his guild group, I put my hand up and volunteered. So far I’m just playing once a week. (We refer to Thursdays as “Pew-Pew Night!”) We got our characters up to level 10 last night, which means that you can now see me on the online “armory”. No, I have no idea what any of that stuff means. I just let the Snook (aka Droso) lead me around so I can blast stuff. I told him my only requirement is that I don’t want to do anything insultingly girly, like be a healer or a cook or something. (Which is why my chick is learning “skinning.”) Oh, and her name is “Cynara,” which comes from that stupid book.
Woot, my knee-jerk don’t-overthink-it pub-quiz answer was Iran which seems to be [✓]. I ‘knew’ it was more populous than…
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