Yesterday, I mentioned in passing that there was a minor incident, a week or two ago, involving a Warcraft item auction of mine. Actually, the surrounding mayhem over this auction grew to such proportions, it was like I had looted a national treasure instead of an epic weapon.
Unlike a lot of epic items in this game, this bitch was the real deal: nice stats, great DPS, a vicious proc and hella fast. Ohh, if only my toon could have used it, I’d be a god now.
The setup: Running through one of the higher zones, on my way to somewhere else, I ran into this named mob. By that, I mean I actually ran over him and his four goons. Since I know well enough the pain of killing a named, only to die seconds later and lose out on any possible phatness, as soon as Mr. Named hit the dirt, I power-looted him — the ole shift+right-click, which autodrains a corpse of all its items.
It’s kind of my specialty, loot whore that I am.
In the text box, I see a purple name fly by. (Weeeee, phatness tonight!!) Eventually, I killed the remaining goons, and began hunting around in my bags to see if the phat was hot or not. And goddamn, I said GODDAMN, that bitch was hot.
Naturally, I boasted in /guildchat … we oooed and ahhhed … we raced to thottbot to see how it stacked up against other weapons … more oooo’s, more ahhh’s. A couple of the guildies tried to lay claim, announcing their intention to respec weapon skills to accommodate this virtual fineness. As if.
“And no, you can’t roll up a tank alt right now and lay claim either.” Fuckers.
