An Oath Of Vengeance

So it was that Dante, Stupid Ranger, and I found our characters wandering around Outlands in Hellfire Peninsula. We were freshly 60 and, as an enhancement shaman, I was thoroughly enjoying sending my spirit wolves to feast upon everything I could. The gear was so much better than the old world, and I was running around territory that looked like something out of a Doctor Strange comic. Life was good.

That is, until the night I met the greatest griefer who ever lived.

I was soloing that night, cheerfully mass-murdering the Bloodhollow Orcs over by Spinebreaker post, collecting a basket filled with their vas deferenses so this guy I knew could make stew. Then I noticed I was dead. I panned my camera to see what killed me, but did not see anything. So I found my corpse again, and had only collected one more vas deferens before suddenly I was dead again.

This time, I saw my assailant: it was a red-bearded level 80 human paladin, and his name was Mwxyywyxm. At least, I think that's what it was. I think he designed his name specifically to cause cranial bleeding. I waited until he flew away, and then I resurrected. Two seconds later, I see him swoop down in front of me. Then I died again, and he made a rude gesture at me. I decided it was time to get the hell out of there.

However, my dear friend would have none of this. When I would get to my corpse, he would kill me. When I would rez at the Spirit Healer, he was somehow close enough to know and he would quickly find me and kill me (which made the 25% durability price ever so much more worth it). I eventually decided to hearth, but he got to me before I could leave.

This was starting to become upsetting.

Fourteen resurrections later, I managed to get on my horse and take off toward Zangarmarsh. I must have caught him when he was going to the bathroom or microwaving a defenseless puppy for dinner, because I found myself still alive after a couple minutes. Surely death was right around the corner, waiting to swoop in and kill me! Had I escaped?

Turns out I had. But that's when the real fun started. I started to notice messaged showing up in the local defense channel:

Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
PhatLewts4Me> zomg wtf
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
Spinebreaker Post is under attack!
PhatLewts4Me> f@## ret pallys killing everyone
FredOrcWaffles> omg somebody come kill this guy

That continued for a few minutes, and then all was silent. Then, another tidal wave:

Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Aggrodamus> ZOMG HELP MEEEE
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!
PincheeLoafu> jessus everyone in thrallmar is dead
PincheeLoafu> f*#@(king ret pallys
Thrallmar is under attack!
Thrallmar is under attack!

Falcon Watch fell in a similar fashion several minutes later.

Then it hit me. Holy crap. He couldn't find me, so he decided to mess with me by killing every quest giver in the zone. What a DICK.

So I went to Un'Goro Crater and farmed leather. For hours.

I told the tale to my dear friend SirGeekelot, who immediately pronounced: "That guy is my hero".

---

A week later, I was back at it. The rest of the SR team and I had been doing quests in Winterspring. Sure, we could level quicker in Outlands, but we're new to this so it was nice to see all the "old" stuff. Plus that asshole was still out there. But it'd been a week. Surely he's gone. Right? Right?

So we went through the Dark Portal once again, and we were happily collecting the mutated fel-sphincters of some helboars when all of a sudden I saw Stupid Ranger suddenly fall over dead. Dante, as is his nature, immediately charged her assailant. I applauded his bravery, but I already knew the result. I saw the red beard. I saw the jumble of w's, x's, m's and y's. I saw enough damage to make Kel'Thuzad call in sick to work. It was that bastard again.

A half hour later, he'd killed all of us no fewer than twenty times each. We finally decided to call for help from our guildmates. SirGeekelot came to help us on his lvl 80 hunter, either from a desire to help his friends or to meet his new hero. He cheered as the epic battle began.

And then two seconds later, he died. SirGeekelot, that is. WHAT. THE HELL. This happened a couple more times. Then SirGeekelot checked his stats on the Armory. Oh dear, a full set of this year's Arena gear. He was basically a walking PvP machine. Great.

So we called another of our guildies in, and he brought his lvl 80 mage in. And then both of our guildies died, because that asshole had awesome gear and apparently no soul. About 20 minutes later, he eventually flew off. Probably to go kick a nun in the shins.

We never saw him again. But Dengus and I have both sworn this: when we are level 80, we're going to get geared to the teeth, and we're going to find that guy and kill him repeatedly until he wishes he was never born. Then we will kill him again.