[Editor's note: In an effort to better introduce and verse our readers with the living world of Tyria, we have entrusted a Quaggan and given him access to our site for you all to talk to. We don't know how bad of an idea this is. Guess we'll see what happens.]

Salutations! I am the All-Knowing Quaggan, and I am quite possibly the most noble of my people, not to mention the most intelligent and attractive. Female flipperfish beware!

I come before you today to answer your questions of life, your questions of love, and your questions of… well, anything deserving inquiry. I am here for you.

Those wishing to speak to me can do so either on Twitter at @AllKnowingQuagg – my name is delinquent two letters, for Twitter is crafted by five-year-old children who are offended by names of nobility – or by emailing me, at AllKnowingQuaggan@gmail.com.

So let us begin! Today’s first question comes from Surrounded By Skritt.

Mr. All-Knowing Quaggan, 

One of my roommates is as disorganized and messy as a Skritt, and its starting to make life for the third roommate and I difficult. How would you suggest I approach him about his uncleanliness, or is there another way to deal with the situation?  
 

- Surrounded By Skritt

Dearest Surrounded,

There are a wealthy variety of opportunities you can take in an effort of circumventing your struggles. Among many of them, you should note that your roommate – the one infatuated with shiny objects – should be treated as he or she appears: a skritt.

In my adventures around Tyria, I have seen skritt take on a variety of positions – kicking children, a captive audience (emphasis on captive), stuffed throw pillows… the opportunities are on the most part limited only by the human laws governing your community. If you are prohibited from killing, stuffing and displaying your roommates where you live, I would advise you not to consider that option.

You could sell his clutter to other skritt living in your area. That’s what I did to Norm when he started collecting all of the mystic forge coins he was finding on the ground. I also sold him, so he would cease leaving clutter in my village.

Lastly, you could sit down with your roommate and draw pictures that convey the following message: clean up your “skritt,” or be fed through a blender.

 

Shall we cue another question?

Blessed creature of the sea,

Why do quaggans have a fascination with teeth?

 

- Dentist in Distress

Dearest Dentist,

Do you mean to tell me that you humans DON’T have a teeth fetish? Teeth are but the primary means of measuring one’s wealth. We are all born with perfect teeth, and if we take well enough care of ourselves (and each other, if you know what I mean… :wink: ) then there’s no reason why we can’t take our perfect teeth with us into that big pond in the sky. Cavities are for paste eaters.

 

Alright, let us have a more intelligent question.

Dear All-Knowing,

My spouse doesn’t play games like I do and she sometimes considers it a “dork” thing to do. I’ve tried for years to get her to play with me to no avail. Do quaggan relationships experience this same level of complication? Do you have any tips on how I can help my wife enjoy playing together?

Thanks,
Gaming Husband

Mr. Gaming Husband,

Games are for children and dorks. Tyria is for those who seek to carve their legacy into a finely-crafted stone for the world to see. Your primary goal should be to convey that you will stop playing all games at once and, from that moment forward, you will dedicate your undivided attention on the magical realm of Tyria. Should the relevancy and importance of Tyria falter, we will lack purpose. Therefore, if you can’t convince your beloved that our world is one worth spending the rest of your waking life in, then you should bury her in your back yard. Preferably while she’s conscious, so you can give her time to reflect on how she has wronged us.

In a way, quaggan relationships do have their strains as well. I have learned after all these years that with Mrs. All-Knowing, a marine mate who is bested by none, I can’t leave krait heads on the couch. I’ve only done it twice. Or three times. Maybe four. Those last couple I don’t remember all too clearly. Let’s just say I found myself naked and cold, lying on the upper levels of Rata Sum. Doing the waddle of shame all the way back to your home is an unexpectedly humiliating experience that I would only consider for those who consider others to be “geeks.”

Let your beloved be warned. Rata Sum floats at an elevation that you only notice when you truly deserve it.

 

Let us have one more. One more! Cue the final question, skritt-head.

Salutations, Sensible Sultan of Saline!
 
I have several friends who have been held captive in the world of Azeroth for several years now, enslaved by a subscription fee and beholden to the false idols of raiding and the holy trinity of dedicated tanks, healers and damage dealers. Whenever I try to break their bonds and bring them into the light of Tyria, they question the endgame of Guild Wars 2 and quickly scurry back to their cells once I tell them that no raiding exists.
 
How can I convince them to break the shackles that bind them when they don’t even realize they’re chained? How can I help them escape from the Blizzard they’re trapped within?
 
Many thanks, my flippered friend.
 

-Centurion

Mr. Centurion,

They play World of Warcraft, so whatever message you intend to deliver to them will need to be delivered by means of talking hand puppets. Teach them simple words and phrases until they are able to string key elements of English grammar together into coherent sentences. When you find that they have advanced in psychological development far enough to allow for a marginally meaningful conversation, you will be challenged to convey a number of points to your demented acquaintances:

  • There is more to life than literally everything they are doing. They don’t need to keep hurting themselves and holding back their cognitive development by playing a game geared towards children (see above question if you’re of the forgetful breed).
  • Keep repeating the above bullet point while making your hand puppets more attractive with pipe cleaners, googly eyes, glitter and small noise-makers. Your expertly-crafted message will sink in eventually.

If it doesn’t, then there is nothing you can do to save your friends. Just bury them in the backyard. Tell them there are dungeons where they’re going. For all you know, there probably are.

 

That will be all for this week. If you wish to ask me questions for next week, I would encourage you to ask me via email, Twitter or the comment section below. If you wish to not ask me questions, then you’re probably not worth my time.

The choice is yours, human.