Sunday, September 12, 2010

Imagination Time.

Imagine this:  You've been in queue for upwards of 30 minutes, you're level 56, and questing in Winterspring.  Suddenly, the queue pops.  It's BRD!  Sort of a mixed blessing, but you're willing to put up with this instance one more time in order to bring yourself that little bit closer to 57.

So you accept, happy that your queue popped at all at such a late hour.

After zoning in, you buff the group with Intellect and move on your way through the now unlocked door to your left.  The group seems fairly normal, thank goodness.

Oh wait.

No, it's the group from HELL.






Used to playing a healer, you cringe every time the tank's health takes a dip, which it often does.  And by dip, I mean "within 200 points of 0."  Secretly, you wonder what the healer could be doing instead of healing, and why they keep going AFK at the most inopportune moments, such as at the start of the Grim Guzzler events.

Then there's the tank.  Rarely speaking until it is the most awkward of times, when he does let his fingers fly they do so seemingly with the intent to leave you flat on your ass in confusion.  With such gems as: "im a tank           i cant LP" and "imeen hard", his thoughts appear as elusive as his ability to type properly.  He's so confident in his skills as a warrior tank that he feels compelled to run into a group of mobs after the healer goes away from their keyboard. Again.

In comes the hunter.  He is the DUNGEON GUIDE and as such, he feels compelled to lead the group to victory.  After the intense battle concludes, leaving the tank and one of the DPS dead, he'll cast Eyes of the Beast and announce important information such as: "lol im my pet".  In addition to being completely inept in the skill of keeping his pet under control, he will prove himself worthy in the role of "guy who tells you how to play your class".  He also gets extra points for being the "gogogogo" guy.  Never missing a beat, he will always be there to remind you and the warlock that "Rain of Fire" and "Blizzard" are desired as AOE at certain moments in time.  ("RAIND OF FIR" "BILAZARD" and so on, and so on.)  He also appears to be a sly trickster, encouraging the warlock to RAIN OF FIRE on fire-immune targets.  Good show!

Ultimately, there's the warlock.  At a powerful level 52, the warlock feels no need for updated gear.  Sporting that uber leet level 27 helmet with +6 spirit and 0 durability, he's on top of the world.  His voidwalker runs amok with the least of cares, freely aggroing every mob available.  Ever.  After his voidwalker and the hunter's pet tag team and pull almost an entire room just for shits and giggles, leaving the tank and a DPS dead, a single word appears in your chat log:

help

"Help?" you ask yourself in confusion.  You figure it could just be him not realizing the tank is dead, and calling out for help with the mobs that he, the healer, and the hunter are all slowly taking down.  You sit in your chair silently, staring at your dead corpse sprawled across the ground, and another line or two of

help

help

fall into your line of vision.  By now the fight has ceased, and the priest is already on her way to rez the tank.  Having played a warlock before, you instantly recognize the greenish glow of a summoning portal opening up.

help me summon

Help him summon who?  His request completely baffles you, and you respond in chat with utmost haste.  He promptly replies:

i can summon them

You calmly state that one can not summon the dead with a summon stone, and that they must be alive.

then get alive


Face securely placed in palm, you try to refrain from lashing out on the poor guy, and instead reply that the healer lived, and that the dead would be receiving rezzes.

Several near wipes later, you will be faced with another dilemma put in place by our dear warlock friend.  I'm sure you recall the part in BRD before the last two bosses, where you've got to make your way through a maze of pillars and respawning mobs until you find and secure the Shadowforge Torch so you can light some braziers to open the doors.

Now imagine seeing this.


And then seeing the warlock teleport out of the instance.  You watch in disbelief as his health bar dips down a little, knowing that he's now questing in Winterspring, similarly to how you were about an hour ago.  He claims he can teleport back, calls for a summon, and then ultimately drops group.

Here, my friend, is where you snap.  You completely lose it.  You'd put up with these people for a long time, solely because it was a late time and it'd be a rare sight to see your dungeon queue pop once more.  You try to explain to people what had just happened.  The tank demands the brazier lit, then calls for a role check.

That's it.  You're going to become that which you most hate.

You drop group.

Your character appears in Winterspring once more, as though nothing had happened.  The simulated snowflakes gently coast across your screen.  Then you totally rip into some random polar bear, and all feels right in the world once more.

My friends, this is only a small amount of the wonderful  fucking awful experience I had tonight. Now  I'm going to go to bed, before I start hemorrhaging from my eye sockets.

¤´¨)
¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)
(¸.·´ (¸.·`¤Mandaconda¤

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