The levelling of my awesome troll fire-mage continues at a crushing pace. Crushing in its slowness. Level 46 becons me from afar. Waving its little level 46 arm at me. ‘Here I am, come and get me.’
I want to, I really do. But these PuGs are killing me, literally. I was pottering around on the new look armory this morning, and on the stats page I noticed that so far I had died only 8 times. That’s pretty good, I thought naively. A few PuGs later on a blissful Sunday afternoon of gaming and that figure had been blown out of the window. Things started off well enough. I got ported into the hell that is Maraudon on the first random run of the day. But I was determined to make the best of it. I said hi to the group and then I asked if anyone would like some water. No replies. Oh well, I thought naively, they must have all their water already. We then ran into the instance. After a few minutes of running it became obvious that they had already cleared quite a bit of it. And for them all to be at the entrance when I ported in meant that they had wiped and someone had left. And now lucky me got to take their place.
We ran past that larvae pipe thing that spews out larvae, and what do you know, out popped a larvae and attacked us. Now surely they had just been through this. But no, it was all a big surprise. Like if you got out of bed in the morning, looked out of the window and excalimed, ‘Holy shit! The sun’s rising in the East! When the fuck did that happen?’
So I started fireballing the horrible big ugly green puke thing from behind, while the rest of the group just kept running on while it tore bits out of their bottoms, until it got sick of that and naturally turned on my bottom. I managed to take him down all by my lonesome. Whew, that was close …
Healer: “Mage, can you hurry up, we want a quick run here.”
I have a little thing I do in PuGs: if I like you, I call you by your actual name. If I think that you’re a pile of dogshit, then I call you by your class. So if I get called by my class instead of my name, I get a bit uppity.
The healer was the traditional, gogogoggo type. Except that he didn’t actually heal. I was quickly top of the DPS chart but I wasn’t getting a single heal. And this was on trash. Just going from trash to trash, and my health steadilly crept down from all the little AoE attacks and body slams from wavy palm fronds. Still no heals for me. I was like a heal-free zone. I considered if it had anything to do with me wearing pyjamas but then I figured that they couldn’t see that. I was itching to get my pirate hat out though. Finally I got a heal. An AoE heal. Thanks a lot, bud.
Then we fought a boss and a really nice cloth chest dropped. And the tank rolled need.
‘Oops, lolz, soz, haha, hope i dont win the roll.’
The warlock won. The chest was for level 46, I was level 45, and the warlock was level 41. Oh well, I guess he can put it in the bank for a while …
We went on, the healer not healing, the warlock winning the rolls, the rogue doing 56 dps. The rogue had an awesome way of starting a fight. He would hang a long way back and then go into stealth as the tank pulled, so by the time he had managed to stealth all the way up to the fight at 0.04 miles per hour, we had already finished. We took down the demon satyr boss and some really great cloth somethingorothers dropped. And the warlock won again. Fair enough, alls fair in love and PuGs.
And then my trade window opened – it was the warlock, and he put the previous chest drop in there for me. He was my new bestest friend in the entire world. We continued apace, hurry up, pull, stealth, no heals. We wiped a few times. And then I got the hell out fo there. Next stop, Uldaman.
I had a bunch of quests left over for this place with some nice rewards, so even though I was a bit high level for it I went looking for a group. I mean, it was still green on my LFG finder thing, so I’ll be right. In we go. The tank is a warrior, which is usually a good sign. He is pulling mobs with care, and then waiting for mana people to drink. He’s a downright fucking genius, that’s what he is. Oh, and he has the staff from a previous run, and he knows enough to say that only he can loot the chest to get the other piece. Thank the lord, a good group, I can get through here and get all these quests done and …
Healer: ‘Can we hurry up I am getting bored.’
The healer is a cow. And before I can understand what is going he runs over and pulls a seperate bunch of mobs on the other side of the corridor from the tank who is already fighting a bunch of mobs that the hunter thoughfully pulled for him without asking. Somehow we get through it. Well of course we would, I’m hitting 300 dps and the closest to me is less than half of that. I am close to the magical 50% dps of the group number. But that’s fine, I’m a few levels higher. I don’t care about the dps levels, I just want to get through and get my quests done. Still, the hunter is doing low dps but he’s only level 41 … actually the tank is beating him, and the tank is a level 38 warrior …
We continue through the tunnels after the map room until eventually the forces of angst line up against us and three people pulling mobs from three different directions gets us a nice big serving of wipecake.
It’s a long run back to Uldaman.
I get back, take my time getting back to the scene of the wipe. When I get there, the hunter and druid have pulled the same bunch of mobs that had just killed us. I sit back a little, as they are not going to get through this and I am not going to do that corpse run again if I can help it. The tank sits down beside me. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could share a ciggie in WoW?
They die, they run back, we clear the room while we wait for them. I now speak up:
‘Would it be possible to just let the tank do the pulling?’
Healer: ‘The tank is doing the pulling, lolz.’
Me: ‘Yes, he is, and so is the healer and the hunter.’
Healer: ‘Just once.’
Me: ‘Once is too many.’
Healer: ‘Can we just go now? I want a quick run.’
We take literally 3 steps and the hunter starts pulling mobs. I then mention that the hunter should stop doing this. His response?
Now, I could have dropped group but I had to wait a long time to get into this specific dungeon. But I wasn’t going to keep up my very high dps output. Oh no siree, I was going to turn into an archelogical sightseer. Ooh, this looks like a nice bit of wall, I’m sure a dwarf would like this, and so on, while calling the hunter a failure of a retard. The healer said could we just drop it. I pointed out that the hunter was pulling seperate mobs from the tank, causing the tank no end of distress, and doing less dps that the tank into the bargain. While I was typing they were fighting, and then the loser hunter linked recount, OF JUST THAT FIGHT.
Hunter: ‘Hahaha, look at the dps, you are a fail mage, hahas.’
The healer chimed in as well. My overall dps for the run was now down to a lowly 45% of total damage, but I linked it anyway. That’s the real dps you bunch of fucking morons. Insults were traded back and forth as somehow we got to the last boss, which the hunter pulled of course while nobody was ready.
We killed it, people began to leave the group, and just as I was leaving the hunter whispered me: