Zul Gurub Cauldron Song

Sometimes an instance run is just unlucky. You can attribute wiping to having a noob tank, or insufficient healer gear, or even just people not paying attention to shiny stuff on the ground in boss fights; but when the warlock's engineering boots proc and kill her in a crucial moment, well, you just have to admit Murphy is mooning you.

This was one such Zul Gurub run. 

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Eternal Spirit Zul Gurub Cauldron Song / June 23rd, 2011

Let's get some gear, there's heroics to do!
Eron's a-leading, and Hen's with us too,
We have Bira for kicks and Padmini will tank
And Jmbie, for filling that dps rank. 

We start with four wipes on Venoxis, the snake.
(At that point, it's clear there's some measures to take).
We Youtube the tacs and repeat with face-sad:
"Avoid all the green stuff, and shiny is bad." 

Troll cauldrons and raged voodoo chants from afar
Will not turn us back - we will soon face Hakkar!

More tactics! Venoxis is down, and we're clear
To dare take the challenge of great Mandokir:
He's back from the dead, and he now wants your head
(But you'll be ressurected by friendly Val'kyr).

Kilnara has cats on a ranged killing spree -
They pounce at your healer who's losing HP
And Eron is frothing and growling, for we
Do not interrupt that accursed AoE. 

Troll cauldrons and faint voodoo songs from afar
Will not turn us back, we will soon face Hakkar!

Cat-lady is down! And Hen is dead, too.
(you'd think we died more than enough now, would you?)
But no, it's not mobs, nor Kilnara indeed;
It's the engineer's boots whose vile proc did the deed. 

...We rez Henrietta (repair bills and all)
And hurry past crocs and the flame-spitting wall
It's getting quite late and we just want some fun;
Instead, what we get is another corpse run.

Troll cauldrons and raged voodoo chants from afar
Will not turn us back - we will soon face Hakkar!

"Enough!" (that's the leader, now slashing his wrists)
"We're here for the loot, not for laughing and kicks.
No kiting of drakes to no lifts, are we clear?
And... why is the tank dead again? I must hear."

"I thought they were you guys," the tank meeks with dread,
Pointing at three smirking trolls up ahead. 
"They had fancy gear and this guy's hair was red - 
I thought it was Bira, but he zerged me, instead."

Troll cauldrons and raged voodoo chants from afar
Will not turn us back - we will soon face Hakkar!

It's well past the end time, we wipe thrice or more
On Jin'do, whose chains, ghosts and shades we abhor
Then we wipe five more times and we know it's not long
Ere we'll have to revise our brave cauldron song.

Now the leader is grumpy, the rest - ill at ease,
The dps quiet, the tank cannot breathe
The armors are broken, the Spirit's not right 
"Eternal" our asses; we bid you goodnight. 

Winter Veil play, 2007

This one was played out during a Winter Veil 2007, on our RP server. The true challenge of writing it was sticking to RP server policy, aka not out-loud referring to game mechanics. It's based on Dickens' "A Christmas Carol";  was fun to write, fun to act, and I also hope it's a fun read.

Many thanks for my friends, who rehearsed and acted it out that year: Alastair, Kristin, Sebastian and Jonas.

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DRAMATIS PERSONAE


Sir Ebon-Nether Scourge, guild leader
Stella, guild member
The Spirit of Winter Veil
Chorus

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CHORUS

Winter Veil's merriment was in the air

With snowballs and reindeer and eggnog to spare

And the guild called "The Dragons" sat by the Veil tree

The presents all piled up – what joy it would be!

But little they knew that no good could emerge

From the Lord of their guild, sir Ebon-Nether Scourge…

STELLA

Good evening, my Guild Lord! Well met and good tides!

How like you this [Gleaming Blue Sword] by my side?

I got it for you, for this Winter Veil fest -

With a dragon-shaped pommel, to match the guild crest!

SCOURGE

That's sweet of you, Stella. Here's my gift for you;

I wish you a holiday merry and true.

STELLA

Why, thank you, my guild lord! Allow me, perhaps, 

To ponder the wonder therein, under wraps?

Will it be a dagger, its blade shining green?

A fancy new crossbow? A flying machine?

Here, I pull off the wrapping! The gift is revealed!

*cough* …Oh jolly… you brought me …a [Rusty Grey Shield]…?

CHORUS

And so it went on – each guild member's loot

Was a [Flimsy Chain Girdle] or a [Worn Leather Boot],

And everyone raged when under his wrapper

Holly the Druid found a [1 Pound Mud Snapper]…

…The party was over, and with hurried pace

The guild members stormed off, deserting the place

And Sir Ebon Scourge lay awake, lone and dreary

For sleep would not come; no rest for the weary.

SCOURGE

Surrounded by gifts, yet I can't rest my head –

Wait! What is that shade creeping under my bed?!

SPIRIT

I am the Spirit of the Veil - 

a boring job, the paycheck's frail -

And yet I'm here to offer you

The Special Winter Veil Re-Do!

For, Ebon Scourge, the time has come

To yank the broomstick from your bum.

You weren't always like this, right?

How did your backside grow so tight?

I'm here to give you one last chance.

This was your life – come, take a glance.

It was in Elwynn, right by Hogger

You gave up that bright-green dagger

For the rogue who needed it –

'Twas generous, you must admit.

SCOURGE

It was indeed! She thanked me much.

In honest, I was deeply touched

When later, there, behind a chest

She let me fondle her right br---

SPIRIT

*coughs loudly*

And here in Gnomereghan, recall,

Those purple boots you passed, for all 

The others in the group who pleaded

That's the bit of gear they needed…

Sir Ebon Scourge, you used to SMILE!

Oh, when did you become so vile?

SCOURGE

You know I'm a paladin, right? So it's vital

For me to be nasty; it goes with the title.

SPIRIT

Oh, hush. I'd hoped you would be wiser;

The armour won't create the miser.

(It's true, however, I am told

In bed their weapons never hold).

But anyway! We must proceed.

In Zul Gurub… that epic steed…

You asked permission for a roll –

Oh, good Sir Scourge… Was that your fall?

SCOURGE

*snarls*

That steed was mine, you hear? Was MINE!

I gave up so much all the time -

they promised me I'd win that beast –

But No! They gave it to the PRIEST!

[/cry]

SPIRIT

I feel your pain. Now stop your whining.

I did not come to hear you pining.

I'm here to show you where you'll end

If you refuse to make amends.

See here; this vision I now summon – 

Oh! It's you! fighting a dragon!

SCOURGE

…And beside me – By the Light!

Who is this, that stranger knight?

And the priest? I know her not –

 And the rogue's an idiot…

The sapped is woken by the mage

The shackled breaks its holy cage,

This group is bad, I know the type

There's no way to avoid a w-

SPIRIT

I said, stop your whining! Your balls I'll unplug!

Such people are Pain Under Gain, or a PUG. 

This is your future, unless you transform

Into someone more generous - giving, kind, warm.

And now I will leave you; you tire me so;

There's a man down in Ironforge to which I must go

They tell me that ikzjjxjhgkhd he is called –

I'll rip out his guts, for he is selling gold.

Chin up, good sir Scourge! Your nightmare won't last;

The future awaits – stop living in the past.

CHOROS

The following morning, Scourge rushed out of bed;

And went to the Plaguelands, and slaughtered undead; 

He came back that evening with blood on his hood

And begged for his guild to show up, if they would.

STELLA

*coldly*

Hello Sir. Don't tell me, I know on my own:

Perhaps you'll now give me a grey [Lifeless Stone]?

SCOURGE

Not a stone, no, dear Stella, if I may but flutter

I daresay my gift might be just a bit better.

STELLA

Oh fine, let me have it. Can't say that I care.

Here, I take off the paper… is that steel shining there?

…

Oh, guild lord – that weapon – it is no mere stinger…

It's no stone indeed – it is the [Ashbringer]!

CHORUS

Together they drank Winter ale with their friends;

With Scourge's new gifts, all the hearts did expand.

And what happened then? In The Dragons they say

That Scourge's tight heart grew three sizes that day!

Wtf, World of Warcraft poetry?

I feel that the first post of this blog aught to explain a little. Spilling words has always been fun for me. It can be a short story, a poem, a book - the words flow out fast, with zero effort and maximum joy. The problem is, they always teach you that prose, or poetry, has to have deeper meaning. That it's got to be a good story, a heart-boggling poem, a good punchline. And you know what? I'm not good with those.

But given ideas or inspiration, I can go on 'till kingdom come. This is my wowdump; those are all silly rhymes, or mini-plays, or history for dummies, based on the experience of playing World of Warcraft. Might as well keep them all somewhere.

I'd continue; but I'm tanking a raid tonight and being late would be a shame. 

- A.