Revenge is a dish best served with a side plate of friends
I, the great Draenei Shaman Tenghi, and my companion, the smelly dwarf Crosseye, were ridding the world of pesky corrupted furbolgs in the northen part of Felwood this evening, when across the spirit realm, we heard our dearest friend, Mediatrix (the great Draenei Shaman), emit curses of great evil, as he expounded the female dog mother of a particular Horde rogue. We thought nothing of it, as it is a fairly common occurrence with the great Draenei Shaman Mediatrix.
A short while later, while in the midst of bashing a furbolg upside the head with my axe, we again heard the foul mutterings and curses of the great Draenei Shaman across the ether, again expounding the lack of virtues of the female dog mother of that same Horde rogue. We politely offered the great Draenei Shaman Mediatrix our deepest sympathies, all the while chuckling under our breath and shaking our heads at our old friend's familiar antics.
Eventually, despondent at being continually rendered to the spirit realm, the great Draenei Shaman Mediatrix decided to perform a meditation ritual, which would render him safe from harm until he decided to return to the living realm.
In the mean time, the smelly dwarf and I, the great Draenei Shaman Tenghi, had completed our quest of maiming and pillaging the furbolg "village". That last is said with some distaste, as you can not deign to call a few fur bound shanties of wood, a "village". We returned to the land of Winterspring via the tunnel at the northern end of the Felwood, passing surly and unfriendly Timbermaws who patrolled the tunnel. Soon, you filthy creatures, soon, you will consider us to be friends.
Shortly after we exited the smelly tunnel, which was not smelly to begin with, mind you, but for the passage of my dwarf companion, my smelly dwarf companion yelled out to me.
"Oy, you. What's dat fingy over d'ere?"
Being a hunter, my smelly dwarf friend is rather astute at locating creatures in the nearby vicinity. Unfortunately for him, due to his smell, his luck with hunting depends on which way the wind is blowing at the time.
I stopped my mount, and turned towards him.
"Pray, dear friend, what is it that you spy over yonder?"
"It's dat rat fink virtueless female dog mother's son of a rogue dat kept smearing ol' Mediatrix over the landscape dat is", he expounded excitedly.
"Drat", I thought. I had plans to head to Everlook to see to my supper. Hunger was beginning to prod at my belly.
"He's a level 57. I fink we can take 'him. I really fink we can!" The smelly dwarf has a penchant for attacking anything that looks like Horde, no matter how powerful. A lesson he has failed to learn. Personally, I think his lessons stay far away from the smell.
"Indeed. Let us revenge our friend," I said, while the beginnings of rumblings were starting somewhere in the nether regions of my belly.
We patiently waited until the rat fink virtueless female dog mother's son of a rogue started attacking a yeti, and we headed in for the kill. Unfortunately the rat fink virtuless female dog mother's son saw us coming, and quite literally headed for the hills, yeti, and the smelly dwarf's cat, in tow.
We gave chase. The smelly dwarf was able to perform the Hunter's Mark ritual, so our quarry was quite easy to spot with a red glowing arrow above his head. We trailed him through hill and dale, the rat fink virtueless female dog mother's son of a rogue utilising a sprint spell when he was able. Eventually I tired of the chase, and called up my mount. With thanks to friend Titan and the Mithril spurs, and my continual waving of the carrot on a stick in front of my mount, I started gaining on the rat fink virtueless female dog mother's son of a rogue. With the timely aid of my smelly dwarf friend, who was shooting the rogue from afar, I was eventually able to get close enough to perform a frost shock on the blighter. He immediately slowed to 50% of his original speed. The silly sod remained mounted, all the while, I kept performing the frost shock ritual, causing terrible damage and keeping him slow. Eventually he dismounted, I know not what his intention was, but he did not have time, as my next shock slew him, and he fell lifeless in to the snow.
My smelly dwarf friend and I then proceeded to spit and shuffle on the corpse. I even deigned to sit on his face for a short period. He now has the imprint of the great Draenei Shaman Tenghi's buttocks on his cheeks, and our footprints all over his robes as we did a 'soft shoe' routine on his corpse.
That, my friends, is a dish of revenge, served sweetly, and with great pleasure, if initial reluctance, on my part.
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Originally Posted by thisgeek
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