aka Leigh and Bloom versus the Angry Mage Tank

A couple nights ago we found ourselves in Sunken Temple for the last time ever. After approximately a thousand runs through the place in our late 40s and early 50s, this came as something of a relief — our party members constantly manage to get lost in the place. But before we could truly escape, we had to have one last showdown with a terrible dps.

The player in question is Pheen, a mage from the Stormreaver server. Things went downhill in a hurry, as Pheen found himself with two imps on him while Leigh was tanking a group of mobs further down a passageway.

A mage faced with this situation has a few options. One, he can frost nova the mobs and either back up to kill them or run to the tank. Two, he can use his blink spell to escape and run to the tank. Three, he can realize there’s a healer right there with him and that he can burn the two little imps down without a problem. Or four, he can immediately begin spewing insults and then refuse to stop for the rest of the run. Three guesses which option is Pheen’s favourite.

Pheen wasted no time, even while killing the imps safely with a healer right there in range, to start calling Leighroy a retard and a bad tank. Because obviously, you know, she should have psychically known that he was under attack way back there and should have dropped all her tanking in order to rush back and save him from the two little imps, arriving at the same time as he’d already killed them anyway. Obviously.

Unable to get over his sudden burning rage, Pheen continued to insult Leigh, including, bizarrely, taking a dig at her spelling, which is hilarious because a) she types better than 99.9% of the game population and b) well, just wait till we get to the screenshot below.

Taking matters into his own little gnome hands, Pheen began pulling mobs and attempting to mage-tank. Leigh ignored him and moved on to other enemies when he pulled some, further fuelling his anger. I told him that I wouldn’t heal him if he was pulling mobs, which turned his anger toward me. He ice blocked, saving himself and putting all of his aggro onto me, because of healing threat. A tree druid healing herself is pretty hard to kill though. So, y’know, nice try asshole.

We jumped down into the dragons and Pheen took some more damage. I kept my eye on his health and rescued him before he died. He jumped all over me, saying that druids were terrible healers and I was the reason why. Our boomkin told him to stick a sock in it, to which Pheen replied that he should “stfu and waddle away”.

Figuring that we had mined him enough for blog material, and deciding that he had to go now that he was turning his insults on other players, I prepared to kick him from the group as soon as our current combat was over. I’m glad I didn’t manage to do it, because Pheen then delivered a tremendous speech:

Pheen gives a stirring farewell speech, so insightful and cutting that everyone was instantly ashamed that we hadn't pampered his ass all run long.

Click the picture and give that a read. Seriously. My friends, that is some epic buffoonery right there. If any of you, ever, for whatever reason, feel the urge to say something like this to a group of people, remember this post and hesitate. Pheen left the group, and we spent the rest of the run laughing about this.

My only regret is that I didn’t get to say “No one insults mah boomkin” and then kick his ass.

So long, Sunken Temple. Your twisted passageways gave us so many interesting groupmates.

Moral: Take some responsibility for your own play. If you blame everything on others and act like an enormous asshole, the tank won’t save you, the healer won’t heal you, and you’ll be all alone, with no one listening to your endless bitching. And the gameplay-wise lesson is that you should take mobs to the tank. Never expect the tank to come to you; sometimes they will if they can, but tanks don’t look at party health bars a lot because that’s not their job, they probably have no idea you’re under attack. If you have to lose an ounce of dps to bring your mob over to the tank so you can have your life saved, well boo hoo. Chances are good it’s your own fault that something is attacking you anyway.


Almost as often as we run with TERRIBLE dps, we run with good ones.  Often, we forget to take screenshots because nothing bad has happened. 

This time, I made a point of it! 

Psychedelia of Hellscream, with his DPS of Awesome

It’s not often my damage output is approached, nevermind beaten, by anyone.  It’s even less likely that the person beating me isn’t a complete jerk.  However, we had a lot of fun last night in Blackrock DepthsThe DPS were nice, competent, and in one case, completely badass. 

After killing High Interrogator Gerstahn, who is required for completion of the random (and acquisition of a shiny bag of loots), I asked if anyone wanted to carry on, and lead them to Bael’GarI’d had a hunch that, all this time, we had been doing the instance backwards. 

Turns out I was right!  We hit Bael’Gar first, ended up having to kill some spectators, jumped in the Ring of Law, and carried on our merry way for about 45 minutes in total.  We made it to Emperor Dagran Thaurissan, which Bloom and I have accomplished once before, but never with such ease as this particular run.  And with Bloom and my levels being the highest in the group, the Emperor must have been red to at least two of our teammates. 

Thanks to a group of polite, cautious, knowledgeable players, and Psychedelia’s sick dps, we beat BRD easily.  <3!

aka Leigh and Bloom vs the Sabotaging Hunter.

It was a Sunken Temple run like any other…I weaved my way through the instance, guiding my party members with my mad leet directional skills.  We had killed all of the trolls on the upper level and had descended to the lower, smushing dragons as we went.  On our way to Jammal’an the Prophet, one of my teammates posed a question: would we be killing Atal’alarion?

Normally, we skip this boss–generally speaking, no one wants to bother going into the basement of an already very long dungeon to kill a boss that needs to be unlocked with a puzzle, and whose loot table is rather small.  I had killed him once before in the possibly hundreds of times Bloom and I had been to this instance.  But our peer needed him for a quest, so we killed the Prophet and obliged him.

(I may have possibly pulled a fail move and jumped down from the middle, but shh, don’t tell anyone!)

At any rate, we got down there and began clearing out trash, which was going pretty well, but our hunter, a charming individual named Porktits, was being impatient and pulling groups by herself.  I asked her to stop, and promptly set her waiting at one of the statues to keep her out of trouble.

After I had carried on and set two more people at statues, I can only assume it dawned on her what I had done.  Either that, or she made a mistake and was so startled that she only typed the first two letters of an expletive…

She said, “fu” in party chat, to which I responded with, “?”

Seconds later, someone exclaimed that she had cast a volley into a group on the second level, and that angry mobs were running up to visit us.

I assumed the worst of her.

“Drop group.” I told Bloom in guild chat.

She and I both did so, and were saved from a gruesome death at the hands of undead tree things.  Yay!

Moral: Uh, when instances are set up to teleport you out upon leaving the group, it’s hard to fuck people over by pulling mobs onto them.  So an idea is, to not try it.  Everyone will be happier, and will have more experience and fewer repair bills, if you don’t try to fuck everyone over.

aka Leigh and Bloom vs the Tremendously Epic Shaman.

I appreciate good gear as much as the next player…but I also appreciate modesty.

When we first entered Inner Mauradon with Shammyshock (I’ll confirm the server later), he wasted no time before linking all of his gear, boasting, and running off to agro things by himself.

My first thought was, “God, I need to beat his dps…” and my second thought was, “I really hope he dies.”

As we carried on through this short instance, Shammyshock continued to gloat.  Eventually, I informed him that he was ridiculously annoying.  He responded with something like, “It’s just because I’m better than all of you put together!”

We had to endure him through LandslideDuring the trash leading up to Princess Theradras, he became slightly more bold and arrogant, and Lifebloom suggested he demonstrate his prowess by taking down the next two earth elementals by himself.  He began, but the hunter in our group accidentally pulled one off, and I tanked it.

He was rather pleased with his accomplishment, but Bloom wasn’t impressed.  She said, “The hunter pulled one off you!  You should take the next group.”

I said in guild chat, “30 seconds til we can boot him!”

He stood up from drinking, prepared to run in…And I initiated a vote to kick him, which obviously passed.

Our Princess kill was mercifully quiet.  Silence, in this case, is Epic.

In the end, I didn’t beat him in DPS, nor did he die…but he beat me by very little, a percent or less if I remember correctly, and I was in blues, greens, and heirloom gear.  I think that speaks volumes about his skill level.

Moral: Just because you have high DPS does not necessarily mean that people will put up with your bullshit, and just because you’re over-geared does not necessarily mean that you’re a good player.

aka Leigh and Bloom versus the Whiniest Warrior

The next tale launches us ahead several levels. Remarkably, we managed to get through Cathedral and Uldaman without any memorable dps stories (though more on a Cathedral incident in a future post related to wipes). In this latest installment we find our heroes trapped in the bowels of Maraudon (orange side) with the whiniest warrior ever.

Leigh will be able to supply me with this warrior’s name later, but first let me paint you a bit of a background.

EDIT: the warrior in question is Galvatorix, from the Hellscream server.

Leigh and Bloom occasionally indulge in a few mild in-character roleplaying elements. I am more guilty of this than she, but one of hers comes in the form of the macro she has attached to her Hand of Reckoning taunt, a paladin tank staple whenever dps pulls a mob or there’s something on the healer or the mage opens with a pyroblast on the wrong target, et cetera. When Leigh hits this button to save your ungrateful ass, she /yells at the mob to get the fuck off her dps. The mobs listen. Wouldn’t you?

The fury warrior in our group didn’t like this. Not because he found the concept of cursing offensive, but because having a /yell on his chat box annoyed him. He complained about it for a few pulls and then told her to stop it. I told him that we didn’t know if we liked him enough to want to do that.

A couple pulls later we found ourselves at Noxxion, the poison elemental boss. He drops a useless nature resist trinket most of the time (as an aside, once we had a shaman roll need on that trinket because it could cure poison on use with a five minute cooldown; he then defended his choice of rolling need, until Leigh pointed out that as a shaman, he has an instant-cast poison cleansing ability of his own, and then she exposed the fact that he didn’t know how disenchanting worked, what a UI was, or why it would have been better to roll for the shard). Okaythatwasalongaside! Anyway, this time he dropped some plate bracers with 15 strength and 5 stamina.

Both Leigh and the warrior rolled need, both legitimately. Leigh won, and the warrior immediately launched into a veritable crusade of whining about how she should give it to him because it was no good for her.

She and I both defended her choice. As someone who plays a level 80 paladin tank myself, I noted that strength is an important stat. Not only does it increase her threat generation, but paladins are extremely block-based — with talents and abilities, they are often rolling around in significant time-portions of fights with a 65% or greater block chance. Strength increases the amount she blocks each time, which at this level of content extends her lifespan in a similar manner to what stamina does. It’s only at later levels when strength becomes one of those stats that you just sort of accumulate on your tanking gear without thinking about, when stamina, defense, dodge, parry, hit, and expertise take centre stage.

The whiniest warrior was not appeased. He informed us that he too had an 80 prot pally, and kept on complaining. Leigh got fed up with him and told him that he was incredibly annoying. She asked sarcastically if he was 12.

He responded, with some indignation, that he was in fact fourteen. Everyone in the group found this fairly amusing.

At this point, as his ceaseless whining refused to, well, cease, Leigh told him that she was putting him on ignore so she didn’t have to listen to him. This did not disaude him at all. He continued to berate her even though she couldn’t hear him anymore. His insults escalated in party chat, and then he stated heatedly that no one else in the group had a problem with him, only her.

In order to prove him wrong, I initiated a vote to kick him from the group. The vote passed, he was removed, and the other dps said thank you.

Moral: People DO have a problem with you. If you don’t like that, try being less brain-achingly annoying. I feel confident that would be a good first step.

aka Leigh and Bloom versus the Asshat Trio

Most times, when you find yourself saddled with a bad case of rotten dps, it’s only a single problem individual. Sometimes, however, the random dungeon system conspires against you and throws you in with three spectacular idiots.

On this occasion we found ourselves in the Scarlet Monastary Armory with a shaman, a rogue, and a mage. The rogue’s name was Dirtmagnet, from the Cho’gall server; the shaman was Bluedebil, from Stormreaver; I don’t know who the mage was. As we fought our way through the outer courtyard, it quickly became obvious that we were dealing with some fun people, as the mage started pulling mobs with his pyroblast.

Leigh told him to stop with the goddamn pulling, and we headed down the stairs into the Armory itself. Leigh engaged the group of three Scarlet Crusaders that congregate there, and the shaman, following us down the stairs, stepped off to the side and dropped his totems exactly in the right place to aggro the next group of mobs, which joined us.

Leigh tanked the whole lot of them, and then paused to ask the shaman to watch where he dropped his totems.

It was like some sort of secret signal for all of them to become complete assholes. I mean, seriously, is there a society of assholes out there? Do you have some kind of code phrase to all drop your mask of civility and start jabbering like apes? Did we just hit the right combination of words by accident?

All three of them started mocking her at once, the shaman retorting that he would drop his totems on the floor wherever he wanted, the rogue suggesting he do something with the totems I shan’t repeat, and the mage taunting her for wanting to be cautious.

So we did what any responsible tank and healer duo would do. Right in the middle of the next pull, we dropped group, returned to Stormwind, and left them to die.

Pretty cunning, don’t you think?

Moral: Come on, people. Insulting the tank? Really? You really think that’s a good way to get your run finished? It’s nothing at all for a tank to find a new group. The tank will be in a new group and rolling along before you’re even finished dying, nevermind before you can find a new tank to play idiot with.

Also, I hate people who think that internet anonymity is a green light to be a complete fuckwit. Some would say that it’s the internet, it doesn’t matter. I would contend that the things you do when you think no one is watching say an awful lot about you.

aka Leigh and Bloom versus the Three Tank Blitz

Leighroy, I’ve learned through our travels together, has a low tolerance for bullshit. This is one of the many reasons she’s awesome. However, it took a few runs with bad group members before this quality began to shine through, and though she may correct me on this, the next story is the first time I can really remember her stepping forward and truly taking charge when it comes to an idiot. It should be noted that her healer is in full solidarity with her in every case.

This story starts with something remarkable. The random dungeon queue, as anyone who has signed up for it knows, is full of dps. Nearly every group that forms ends up waiting on a tank or sometimes a healer before the group can go. Dps are like rabbits. Seriously, they’re everywhere, and someone is always rolling another one. Someone, somewhere, is rolling a rogue right now, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. This is nature’s way.

In those days, Leigh signed up as both tank and dps, and of course she always got the tank position. Thus, imagine our surprise when we sign up for the Scarlet Monastary Graveyard and find Leighroy slotted in as a dps. My very own Leighroy! A lowly dps! I was as shocked as you surely are now, but it’s true, I swear it on the butterflies and tiny fawns that follow me around everywhere.

But it gets even better. Our group was home to not two tanks, but to three tanks. Two of our dps regularly ran as tanks, but found themselves in the unfamiliar position of having to turn off their threat-increasing mechanics. Somewhere out there, whole herds of dps were weeping, stuck in the queue while we ran around with a group of tanks.

There was, of course, an immediate and apparent problem, one which I’ve already alluded to — Leigh was not the tank. Someone else was in charge of pulling, gathering, tanking, setting the pace, all that good stuff. And since that someone else was not Leigh …

Our new tank, Suisidephyco of the Alexstraza server, had what you might call a peculiar tanking habit. He had no trouble picking up and holding aggro, but I’m pretty sure he was a PvP gnome rogue in an earlier life, because he would not stand still. He aggroed the mobs and then he ran around like a chicken with its head not just cut off, but with the nerves still connected, the semi-attached head stapled upside-down to his torso, and then given several injections of hallucinatory drugs, straight into the brain.

He ran the mobs back and forth, this way and that, forcing our two melee dps to run around trying to catch up and actually hit them. They both shouted at him to stand still, but he would not, and he started getting petulant about their problems with his tanking, which he felt was clearly exceptional. And let’s be clear, I’m not talking about him running around to gather more mobs for AoE. He would gather one group of mobs and then dance all over the place in that one small area, making the mobs scurry about like sugar-buzzed mice.

Leighroy was not about to stand for this idiocy. “Okay,” she said. “That’s it. I’m tanking now.” She flipped on Righteous Fury and took the other tank’s mobs, then proceeded to tank the rest of the instance. He complained, but could do jack all about it, because he couldn’t match her threat output. He whined at her to let him tank, but she simply repeated that she was the tank now.

The third tank decided this was marvelous fun, and he started tanking a few mobs as well. Even the warlock figured this new turn of events was a fantastic opportunity to break out some new moves, and she started spamming that warlock AoE spell (I’ve never really played a warlock, but is it called Hellfire? Something like that?) that damages both the enemies and her own health, becoming a suicide warlock bomber that I had to keep alive. We ripped through the mobs like a lightsaber through butter. When not saving the warlock from herself I dropped into bear form. You know, just to fit in with all the other tanks.

Imagine being the Graveyard boss. You’re standing around, chilling in your crypt, enjoying some nightcrawler sandwiches, and suddenly down through your stairs pours a pissed-off paladin tank, a cackling dps paladin tank, a warrior who won’t stop complaining, a suicide warlock, and a pacifist bear. Then ten seconds later you’re dead. Again. Bad day.

Ever since that day, Leigh has signed up strictly as a tank, just so we never risk having someone else tank for us again.

Moral: If you sign up as a tank, please know how to actually, y’know, tank stuff. If you’re unsure on some things, listen to the advice of people who do know what’s going on. And seriously, for the love of all that’s good, don’t keep moving the mobs around once you’ve gathered aggro on them, especially if you have any melee dps. As a tank, you will take less damage if you are facing your enemies, and the group will do more damage if the enemies are standing still once you’ve gathered however many you want. This means I have to heal you less, which gives me more time for climbing on stuff. And isn’t that what’s really important?

The Real Moral: Don’t mess with Leighroy. Seriously, I’m not even kidding.

aka Leigh and Bloom versus the Melee Warlock

What is it with warlocks and Razorfen Kraul? Seriously guys, maybe you should just go quest during those levels.

Sadly we have no memory of this warlock’s name, or perhaps that’s fortunate for his case. Because if a person’s goal in life is to never become part of another group’s ongoing in-joke selection, then I’m sorry, mysterious warlock, but you have failed that goal.

Leigh and Bloom trundled into RFK as they often did in their mid-20s, and found themselves in a group with two warlocks. How did we tell them apart, you ask? Well, it was easy. One of them was standing back casting, as warlocks do, while the other was running up and engaging the mobs in melee combat with his staff.

Now, I play a ledge-climbing, violence-deploring, veggie-eating, mana-spring-adoring druid, so I’m the last person to get upset at a little roleplaying if he had something going on. It was also possible (maybe?) that he didn’t know warlocks were supposed to use spells. Perhaps he saw all those warriors and rogues up there swinging with their weapons and thought to himself, hells yes, I’mma get me some deeps. Even though, y’know … it was the heirloom staff. You never know, right? So we asked him why he was using his staff.

He replied, matter-of-factly, that he was skilling up his weapon.

Now, I don’t know, maybe we’re the bad guys here, but why the good gorramn would anyone, especially someone who has played enough to have an heirloom, try to level up their staves weapon skill during a random dungeon run?

First off, you’re there as part of a group. That group is killing bosses, gaining experience, and rolling on loot drops. If you’re not contributing in some positive manner to the run, then all you’re doing is leeching loot, experience, and money drops off the rest of the group. The damage you do while skilling up a weapon, especially as a caster, is nonexistent; you might as well not even be there.

Second, you’re a frigging warlock. You come with your own tanky voidwalker who will happily keep a mob’s attention while you swing away with your staff out in the world, allowing you to skill it up without wasting anyone else’s time. Well, okay, maybe the voidwalker won’t be happy. But he’ll damn well do it if he knows what’s good for him.

And lastly … and I’ll say this slowly so that, if you ever read this, you will understand … You. Are. A. Warlock. You will never need to swing your staff at something. Ever. Period. You could be flat out of mana and it would still be better to stand back and use your wand. I myself, as a healer, have a staves skill of 3. I think I gained those two points by accidentally taking whiffs at enemy totems.

I know, I know, there’s an achievement for having enough weapon skills at 400/400. But even if you’re that concerned about gaining that achivement on an alt, there are many, many better ways to do it than leeching on an RFK run to get your skill up to 100-something.

Leigh’s favourite part came when the second warlock, the one who was actually casting spells, complained that he was having to carry the melee warlock. One glance at the Recount window revealed that Leigh was in fact doing about 60% of the group’s damage, with the second warlock doing about 20-25% and the other dps doing the remainder. Leighroy informed the second warlock that, actually, it was her who was carrying the melee lock. Really, at that point, she was pretty much carrying everyone.

The melee lock eventually got enough skill points and joined in with some spells. Leigh still ended up with a good 50% of the group’s damage (40-50% of the overall damage has been a common result for her well into the 40s, including one Zul’Farrak run where she scored 54%). And we ended up with a lasting in-joke. Whenever someone in a group of ours apologizes for low dps, we tell them that it’s okay — at least they’re not a melee warlock.

Moral: If you’re taking part in a group’s success, please at least try to contribute to that success. We’ll forgive you if your gear is bad or if you don’t have enough AoE to compete with the mage. We’ll forgive you if you’re still figuring things out or if you’re distracted by your dog. But if you’re not even attempting to do anyone any good, not even after your idiocy is pointed out to you, then hey, I’m sorry, but you’re just a melee warlock.

Ninjas generally come in four varieties — (1) the sort who gives good gear to a friend or a guildie even though someone else wins the roll, (2)  the sort who rolls need on offspec gear and keeps it even though it would be an upgrade for someone running a main spec in the group, (3) the sort that strikes from the shadows and kills you and everyone you’ve ever cared about before you even know they are there, and (4) the sort I like to call “Dude, WTF.”

In our mid-20s, Leigh and I braved the twisted paths of Razorfen Kraul, which in my opinion is one of the cooler low level dungeons. We had with us a gnome warlock whose name escapes me at the moment, but I will edit it in when Tuesday maintenance is finished and I can access my ignore list.

EDIT: the gnome’s name was Freesshh, from the Stormreaver server. As of this writing, I note that he is now level 73 and in good gear. I have no idea what was going on during the story to follow, but hey, it happened.

In short order we came to Aggem Thorncurse. We dispatched him (and his little boar, too), and as always, he dropped Thornspike, his +8 agility dagger. Funny how that +8 agility doesn’t save him from getting his ass owned by every group to come within 100 yards of him. Anyway.

We had a rogue in the group who naturally rolled need on this fine piece of quilboar craftsmanship. The warlock also rolled need.

Thankfully the rogue won the roll and received the dagger. Now, being the optimistic fool I sometimes am, I tried to assume the best of the warlock’s actions. He was a quiet player and wasn’t doing great dps, so I thought he might be new to this whole thing, and he only rolled need because warlocks are able to use daggers. I explained to him that agility is useless for warlocks and that he shouldn’t roll need on things that aren’t good for him. He responded with “k”, that truly multi-purpose letter.

The run continued and the warlock didn’t roll need on anything else he couldn’t use. I was reassured that I had taken the right path, that I had helped this poor newbie warlock better learn how to function in a group, saving future groups the pain of dealing with his misconceptions. I had Done Good, as do-gooders are wont to do.

We came to the last boss, and we put her in the ground. The Heart of Agamaggan dropped, a shield that despite the preponderance of spirit is often an overall upgrade for tanks at this level (many of whom are rocking a turtle shield from Wailing Caverns). Leigh rolled need.

So did the warlock.

The roll was not immediately resolved because one of the dps was in the process of disconnecting and couldn’t roll. We went after the gnome warlock, demanding to know why he rolled need on it. He told us that he had mistakenly thought it was a quest item.

There was still a chance at redemption here. He could still have gone to gnome heaven someday, where buxom gnome lasses play on whirring machinery all day. We told him that if he won it, he needed to give it to Leigh, since she could actually use it. The roll was finally resolved. The warlock won. And, of course, he immediately dropped group and scampered back to his own server.

What’s the point, I wonder, of ninjaing a BoP item you can’t even use? I imagine him scurrying into his little gnome hole somewhere, clutching his prize in sweaty little hands. Maybe he puts it into a nest fashioned from his ninja’d items. Perhaps he likes to hold it in front of him and pretend he’s a tank. Maybe he just really, really needed the 63 silver you’d get from vendoring it.

Moral: If you roll need on items you don’t actually need, you will go on the ignore lists of decent and good folk. They will spread your name so that others might know of your deeds. And before long you’ll find yourself only able to group with other ninjas. All five of you will crouch around your kill, wild-eyed and grunting, wondering who will betray the others first. You won’t know until you feel their hot teeth in your neck as the brawl begins. The winner will rise triumphant, clutching his blue offhand of the gorilla in a bloodied fist, and he will cry his victory to the heavens as the others wail and gnash their teeth at his feet. Then you all go to gnome hell, where the buxom gnome ladies turn out to be sharp-clawed imps in disguise and you always get your genitals caught in the whirring gears.

Seriously, don’t take other people’s well-earned shit.

aka Leigh and Bloom versus the Impatient DPS

It should be noted before we launch into our very first story, that this is not necessarily a blog about dps who put up low numbers. Trust me, we’ve seen some impossibly low numbers out there, such as a shaman doing 50 dps in a Zul’Farrak run. Low numbers happen, we kill stuff anyways.

When we talk about “bad dps”, we’re not talking numbers. We’re talking about that dps. You know the one I mean. The one who is arrogant, who is annoying, who pulls stupid stunts that force us to be extra-awesome in order to clean up and save them, who refuse to listen to common sense, et cetera. These are the tales of the dps who make us shake our heads, and who often find themselves on our ignore list so that we never have to group with them again.

If we’d been thinking, we would have been taking screenshots all along to illustrate our older stories, our pre-50 stories. Alas, such screenshots do not exist, and we will not always remember the name of the player or players involved in these pre-50 adventures. Yet we have eight such stories to tell, and then we will be able to move on to bold new misadventures in a post-50 world.

Our very first tale was also our very first encounter with the type of dps we’re talking about.

Way back in the mists of history, Leigh and Bloom teamed up and entered Shadowfang Keep. One of our dps was a retribution paladin from the Gorgonnash server by the name of Create. He was wearing the shaman heirloom shoulders, but he had good dps numbers. Unfortunately, he was incredibly impatient, and as Yoda would tell him, impatience leads to asshole-ism, and asshole-ism leads to death.

Leighroy was tanking Shadowfang as she always tanks, taking on enough to be burned down quickly and efficiently without any troubles or nasty surprises, the way a good tank should. We were moving along at a decent pace, but this was not fast enough for Create.

He began to goad Leigh into more speed, and started running ahead of the group to pull extra mobs, increasing our speed but creating (haha) unnecessary confusion on top of being that dps that all tanks and healers hate — the one who pulls mobs.

Leigh attempted to reign him in, but he would have none of it. The conflict culminated after the Odo boss fight, when Create called Leigh a bad tank, and then he turned Righteous Fury on and ran off ahead of the group to start pulling and tanking more mobs himself.

So Leigh and I let him do his thing. He seemed so happy, it would have been a shame for us to interfere. He ran into the next room and aggroed a large group of mobs, tanking them with his two-handed weapon. Leigh and I went past him and took on the next group of mobs ourselves, leaving him behind. Create griped bitterly that he didn’t need us anyway, and attempted to heal himself with Holy Light.

He died.

“Oops,” said Bloom in party chat. “Sorry. You must be a bad tank.” She then informed him that she only heals people who don’t insult her real tank.

Leigh and I went on without rezzing him, because we don’t like to waste our precious mana like that. One of the other dps could rez, though, and brought Create back to life. He called me a douche, but then mercifully he shut up and did his job for the rest of the run, which went smoothly again. He left the party the moment the loot was handed out, and entered our ignore list — the first of many.

Moral: don’t be the impatient dps who pulls mobs and insults the tank for not going as fast as you’d like. If you want to control the speed of a run, roll your own damn tank. Running a dungeon isn’t just about you, and if you have some pressing appointment you need to make, maybe you shouldn’t have queued up in the first place. If you insist on being that annoying dps who pulls mobs and insults the tank, don’t be surprised if the healer ignores you and the tank moves on without your sorry ass. And remember, if you get so bad that we kick you, we’ll still be finished and in a new dungeon with a new group before you’ve reached the top of that endless dps queue again.

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