Inspired by a conversation at work about some of the embarrassing things we’ve done while raiding, here is a story where I displayed more than my fair share of noobishness.
It’s been a while, so I may have some details messed up, but our small guild was working on the quest Capturing Day and Night, after one of our members had finally, after endless farming, gotten the Gold Dragon Scale needed to change Barakah into her dragon form. When the call went out to the guild that we were going to kill the two dragons in Maj’Dul, we all headed up there to assemble.
Of course, some take longer than others, so while we were waiting for everyone to arrive, some of us started dueling, or killing random mobs that happened to be around us. We were a very laid-back, casual guild, so this sort of tomfoolery was just fine. When it was time to get serious, we always did so, but for the moment we were just joking around, passing the time. Ventrilo, as always, was full of laughs and dirty talk. Then, just as the last people were arriving to the courtyard, things changed.
The call to settle down and focus came from the raid leader who was about to inform the guild on how the encounter was going to go. This came, of course, just as I had fired an arrow off towards a Sha’ir (61 Heroic), floating so innocently above us on his magic carpet. He flew down towards me and I finished him off easily enough, just in time to focus on our upcoming raid. Except, what I didn’t know at the time, was that if you kill one Sha’ir, another comes immediately after. If you kill that next one, then more will come, and keep coming. And come they did.
Taken off guard, a few of us who were in the immediate vicinity did our best to fight off the never-ending wave. It quickly became more than we could handle and the Sha’irs started making their way through the rest of the raid force. Vent went completely silent, except for the raid leader’s voice, “What the hell? Who the fuck pulled the Sha’ir?”
“That would have been our fearless Berzerker,” said someone who had obviously scrolled up through the combat log, looking to lay some blame. “Everyone zone out, quick.” Those in the raid force not yet dead sprinted towards the nearest zone line. My head sunk.
When we came back and reassembled, there was no joviality, the entire atmosphere had changed. I felt like such a tool. The orders over vent were clear and simple, “everyone pay attention, and don’t pull shit”. We got through the dragons easily enough, but I certainly wasn’t having fun doing it. The rest of the guild (hopefully) forgot about my attempt to wipe out our raid force, but I never did, and never fooled around before a raid ever again.