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A Tale of Stuns and Much Swearing

March 31, 2010

(I asked for some inspiration over at the Jaded Alt, and my plea did not go unanswered! Also be aware that the situation described here really happened in the game, before the Warbringer nerf.)

Sit yourselves down, grab a pint. Waitress, bring us some of that roasted quail this place is so famous for!

Ah, now this is a perfectly good place and time for a story from the front lines. Hey! Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?! Siddown!

*Heroic Throw! Dull thud.*

Prop him up on that chair. Yeah, like that. Now put that mug in front of him and fill it up, he’s gonna need it when he wakes up. Yeah, good. Now, if you’re all comfortable, let me begin.

Ironically, one of my best tales does not come from getting repeatedly hit in the head by some oversized creature whose mother I kept insulting while my friends hurried to kill it before it turned me into dwarven pâté…

Eh, what?

What do you mean, I’m very articulate “for a dwarf”? Be quiet, you insolent lout. It’s people like you who perpetuate the stereotype of the uncouth dwarf, something I seek to dispel. “Where’s your accent”, you ask? Well, I left it in my other tanking pants. Now can I move on or will I have to apply a boot to your head before your inconveniently-timed loquacious streak ends?

Good. Where was I? Ah, yes. This tale was not forged inside the colossal halls of some ancient dungeon in the Frozen North, no. It happened in the green fields of Arathi Basin, right here in the Eastern Kingdoms! At a certain point of my career, I enlisted myself in the armies of the League of Arathor to fight the hated Horde in one of the most contested battlefields of Azeroth.

So, after living through a few minor skirmishes, I was guarding the Lumber Mill (why would anyone build a lumber mill on such high ground is beyond me), together with a Night Elf priestess of rather frail physique (what she was doing in a battlefield was also beyond me), waiting for reinforcements when movement caught my steely, dashing green eyes. A small group of Horde soldiers was at the bottom of the slope and moving quickly towards us.

Sensing the battle would be unavoidable, and knowing more soldiers would still take too long to arrive, I ordered the Priestess to hide in the shadows of a nearby tree while I greeted our new visitors. The first to climb up the harsh slope was a blood elf, a Paladin as the eerie glow around him told me. All the better, I thought to myself as I charged towards the prettyboy and smashed my shield against him with such violence that he was left disarmed and scurrying to get to his blade.

A few yards behind him an undead female wearing long tattered robes and being followed by a ferocious felhound. Seeing the dark haze enveloping her hands, I pushed the blood elf to the side and brought my hammer to her before her unholy conjuration could be completed. Her surprise was almost complete, and the quick movement left her stunned on the floor, jaw hanging off one side.

Ignoring the felhound nipping at my heavily-armored heels, I turned to face my last opponent. Another blood elf, this time a female (I hope. It’s hard to distinguish), also in robes. Seeing what happened to her friends, she sent forth a wave of ice, pinning me in place as she vanished and reappeared twenty yards away. A shard of flying ice smashed itself against my shield with enough force to make me stagger, but before she could try that trick twice, I had broken free of my icy bonds and intercepted her next spell.

By that time, the Paladin had already picked his sword up again and ran towards me in a flurry of magic and steel. Undaunted, I raised my shield to block his attacks, slamming the mage with it in the same movement. A lethal dance ensued, as I blocked and parried whatever the Paladin brought my way and still focused on the mage. Soon her body could take no more punishment and she fainted after one particularly painful blow to the ribs.

I focused on the Paladin, the magic in his attacks already taking its toll one me, when excruciating pain started coursing through my entire body. I knew it was the warlock’s doing, but there was nothing I could do besides steel myself up and let rage be my shield against her sorcery. As I dueled the Paladin, it had become clear it was too much of an uneven fight even for a dwarf in its prime such as myself.

Raising my shield to protect myself against both the Paladin’s blade and the Warlock’s spells and demon, I cried for help as I felt my strength dwindle under such powerful barrage. I felt vindicated when, by a stroke of luck, my warded shield caused a spell to ricochet and turn back on its caster. The Warlock convulsed with pain as her body was twisted and wracked by the very dark powers she foolishly tried to wield.

I saw the Paladin’s blade rise again, and I knew I was too weakened to avoid it once more. The sword came down, but instead of causing my death, it simply bounced off me as if blocked by some invisible wall. I thanked the Light for the Priestess’ intervention and attacked with renewed intensity as her life-giving spells started mending the damage caused by our enemies. The night elf’s sudden appearance near the wall did not go unnoticed, however, and the Warlock quickly shifted her attention towards the night elf as I battled the Paladin.

Knowing felhounds are even more deadly against magic-wielders than the norm, I stomped the ground with all my power, causing it to shake and sending the Paladin staggering back. Calculating my trajectory quickly, I ran towards the Priestess, catching the first spell the Warlock had cast, then I charged towards demon, hitting it square on its bristly flank with my shield spike, and bounced off towards the Warlock. Interrupting what spells I could and shrugging off the rest, I unleashed a devastating burst of attacks that soon left her rotting corpse on the ground, broken. Without its master to control it, the felhound dissolved in a cloud of unholy smoke.

I turned to face the Paladin once again. He had only just found his footing again and was looking from me to the Priestess, unsure of what to do now he was alone and two enemies presented themselves. As our reinforcements started appearing on the other slope leading to the Mill, he started running, making a dash for the edge of the cliff. I followed suit, but my last blow was deflected by the powerful magical barrier he had cast upon himself as he jumped off.

We watched the golden sphere around him protected him from the fall and he ran back the same way he had come.

Now… you might think I consider him a coward for turning tail and running. I don’t. Actually, I’d have done the same thing were I in that situation. It’s better to run away and live to fight another day, than to stand and die in a fight one’s sure to lose. That Paladin was one of the wisest members of his wretched race I’ve ever seen.

Hopefully, I’ll fight him again one day. But for now… Waitress! Where’s that quail?!

(Where is the swearing, you ask? Can you imagine how annoying it must have been for those three Hordies to try to kill a Protection Warrior for almost a minute and still lose in the end due to an unexpected Discipline Priest? =P)

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Windsoar permalink
    April 12, 2010 18:10

    Hey, this never pinged back! This was an awesomely fun story–thanks so much!

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