By Skathi

There's a dragon. It's huge, say around thirty yards long and weighing in at around ten tonnes. Ten tonnes of heavily-scaled dragon is staring at you, and you're staring back and which one of you will break first? Now, are you the sort to merrily wave your menfolk into the melee while you applaud prettily from the side? Or do you pick up your axe and charge naked towards the aformentioned scaly beast while screaming vile and intricate expletives in the greatest honour of the best warrior women out there?

Because, let's face it ladies, us lasses are usually the ones that are supposed to look attractively decorative for men. We do a little bit of healing, possibly throw in a little spell or two, but nothing too violent because otherwise we look sweaty. Blood's a no-no. Which is a shame, I've found dragon's blood fantastic for the skin, firms up any random scarring you might have. But back to the point in hand - as a woman in a man's world, we have it hard.

So what do we do? In the greatest traditions we can, we gather our weapons and we charge like we're possessed towards the nearest retail outlet that makes plate metal with integral bust support. Of these there are few; I'm sure every one of you plate wearing girls out there has had to hammer out a lad's chestpiece to even stop the uncomfortable bouncing. What people don't realise is that when they say 'one size fits all' they usually are referring to the rather less bosomy fifty percent of the Azerothian population. Armour is hard. Who wants to look like some cheap-bit Goldshire wench outside the bedroom? Conversely, who wants to look like you're desexualised and covered in armour that needs a tin-opener to get off? What we need is more female designers who understand that while we want to be covered up, we want to look good while we're doing our thing.

And that's important. How else are we going to make the boys who surround us realise that tanks and paladin girls are actually hot-blooded women? Underneath the clinking and the axes, there are lasses roaring to be seen as something more than the blade-wielding battle tank or the armoured to the eyeballs healerdin. Sure, there are some men that find watching ladies bashing the hell out of random monsters rather attractive; something about near-death experiences, girls, I'm sure I'm not the only one that's had to take a little moment in a corner with a handsome lad just to get rid of the post-battle 'itch' before going down the pub to celebrate.

However, as things stand - what can we do? Put down our weapons and give in to the lure of a pretty dress? Every girl around understands that, though has anyone else had the horror of walking into a room and being stared at because you're unrecognisable without a helm on? Lad who made the comment soon had his teeth so down his throat he was eating breakfast with his backside. Sometimes? Sometimes it would be easier to give in. Put on a little bit of make up, nice pair of shoes (though on the shoe front I'm of the opinion that too many is never enough), pretty robe, go in and ponce around with casting. Sure, the boys would love you.

But this isn't about the boys, is it? It's about the smell of the metal and the blood when it sprays, the scream of the dying foe, the way you move and in the end, it's all about you. So what if the boys don't bite. So what if they look at the cute priestess in the corner. Because if they're doing that, what good are they to you? A lad who appreciates the real you is the way to go, girls, don't ever change for them. All they do then is try and change you more and then one day you're chained to a sink while he's chatting up the local bar wench. Fight it, girls. Be what you want, and if that's an armour-wearing, sharp weapon wielding maniac, that's fine. Good on you.

And remember, there's always a man out there who likes a lassie who can look after herself. Especially one that can look after him in the face of a dragon