Murder

Taken from us way too soon. My hunter kneels before the body of her beloved bird and sobs uncontrollably, for forces unseen have just murdered him. His name was Pick. He was eleven years old, almost twelve.

But alas, the powers-that-be have decided that she can never be with him again. Unless, that is, she’s willing to give up the way of the marksman — which has been her craft for her whole life as an adventurer, part of her very identity — and find a new, completely different way of life, either mastering all the beasts — not just her Pick! — or surrendering her Dark Iron Rifle and taking up the spear, something which she has never done before.

Hi, this is The Queue. Can’t wait for patch 11.1!