So there I was, hanging out with Greedie, sipping my coffee, and smoking a cigarette while waiting for something called a “PvP queue” to pop. PvP (Player vs. Player for the uninitiated) is basically where you stop killing NPCs and start killing other players. Greedie was all hyped, telling me that level 19 was the sweet spot for this kind of thing. Apparently, Warsong Gulch was the place to be. “Capture the flag but with more death,” he explained. “Simple enough,” I thought—spoiler: it was not.

We queued up, waiting for the match to start, chatting on Skype. “So, we’re killing Horde now?” I asked, trying to sound confident. “Yeah, try not to die,” Greedie replied with a grin in his voice.

Finally, the queue popped. Warsong Gulch loaded, and boom! There we were, in the thick of battle. The goal? Capture the other team’s flag and protect ours. Sounds easy enough. But as soon as we set foot on the battlefield, chaos hit me like a truck. I’m dodging spells and swinging my bow like it’s an axe. Meanwhile, Dave the sabre is gleefully chasing every red nameplate he sees like a lunatic.

“Focus on the flag, Lexi!” Greedie shouts over Skype. “Uhhh, where is it again?” I was lost, and soon after, dead. A rogue appeared out of nowhere and sliced me down faster than I could say “heal.”

That’s when Greedie casually drops, “By the way, we’re trying NOT to get XP.”

“Wait, what?!” I exclaimed. Apparently, the whole point of this was to stay at level 19 and rule the battlegrounds forever with our Sergeant titles. But, just as we were in the middle of plotting our next epic PvP move, we get a message from a guild mate—Rakarra. She needed help with something.

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And because we’re gallant souls (and suckers for friends), off we went, running into a new zone to aid our fellow guild mate. Except, I didn’t realize what zone we were running into. Neither did Greedie, apparently.

Suddenly, my screen flashes. Greedie dings. Level 20.

“Bollocks,” he groaned. He wasn’t amused. “Bang goes our time of ruling Warsong Gulch and flashing our Sergeant titles with pride,” I thought, trying not to laugh.

Greedie? Not a happy camper. He logged off in disgust, leaving me standing there alone, just shy of level 20 myself. I could practically hear the rage through Skype. Now I was left to wander Azeroth, one XP away from leveling and trying to figure out how to fend off the existential crisis that was no longer being “da bomb” at level 19.

But before I could wallow in my PvP defeat, reality hit me. “How the hell do I get out of here?” The zone we’d wandered into wasn’t exactly familiar. I needed to find the nearest flight master to get the hell out of dodge before I accidentally leveled myself by sneezing on something.

Cue the great search. I’m running around, dodging mobs, clicking my map like it’s going to magically show me the way. Meanwhile, Dave is still pulling every critter we pass like it’s his personal mission to get us both killed.

After what felt like an eternity (and a few very close encounters with spiders), I finally spot it—the glorious, winged savior that is the flight master. I hop on the first available bird, determined to get back to familiar ground before anything else went wrong.

And then it happened. I hear that familiar ding, that triumphant little sound that is usually cause for celebration.

“Congratulations, you’ve reached level 20!”

At the flight master.

I didn’t even make it back to a safe zone before leveling! Greedie’s rage quit wasn’t going to be the only tragedy of the day. I sat there, staring at the screen, my character now officially in the next bracket of leveling. So much for our level 19 glory.

“Well… guess I’m going for level 60 now,” I muttered to myself. If I’m going to screw up the level 19 dream, might as well go all the way, right? Dave wagged his tail as if to agree.

Level 60, here we come.