Shamus Plays

Shamus Plays
Shamus Plays WoW #7: The Cataclysm Begins!

Shamus Young | 8 Dec 2010 13:00
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Norman leads us back out of the city, heading south to Goldshire. "Demons have meetings?" he asks at last.

"Sure. You can't overthrow a universe without having a few meetings. And the pencil-pushers from Infernal Affairs are always dragging us field agents in for status reports."


As we walk along the road, we're nearly run down by a formation of guards.

"That's new," I say. "Looks like Goldshire finally got some soldiers."

"Yeah," Norman agrees. "Let's stop in and see what's going on."

In Cataclysm, Blizzard has tried to fill the world out a bit more. There are more NPCs in the world, and many of them are now moving around and doing things, as opposed to standing around and waiting to be clicked on. It really does make the world seem more active.


In Goldshire, Norman speaks with Marshal Dughan, "So ... I notice that you've got a bunch of soldiers now? I'll bet that helps a lot."

Marshal sighs, "Yeah. I'd requested this detachment ages ago, and they finally arrived this week. But some idiot in Stormwind complained to every official in the city that we weren't doing patrols. So then the powers that be sent us orders to do patrols. So that's what the new units are doing. I've got them marching up and down the road all day."

Norman looks a little pale, "But ... but if there's a problem ... Like, if someone needed help around here, you could send those soldiers to help, right? Like, what about all the gold mines full of kobolds?"

Marshal shakes his head, "No. They would have to stop patrolling to do that. I'm under orders to be doing patrols from now on."

We trudge off into the woods. I can hear Norman sniveling as we walk.

"Are you-" I start to ask.

"I'm not crying!" he insists. "I just ... have allergies."

We head deeper into the woods. There are, of course, kobolds here, but also huge bears, robbers, and pony-sized spiders. We give those guys a lot of room.


Eventually I speak up, "Look, I'm just a simple immortal demon, filled with hateful schemes and malice. I don't pretend to understand your fancy philanthropic ways. So explain to me what we're doing here in the ass-end of the forest?"

"Well ..." he says as if he really hadn't considered the question until now, "I guess the best way to help the people is to just go to them directly, you know? Just ask around and see what people need."

"Naturally I object to this plan on moral grounds. As in: It's moral, therefore we shouldn't be wasting our time with it."

"Naturally," Norman nods.

"But I also object to this plan on practical grounds, because there aren't any people around to mooch help off of us."

Norman points through the trees to a few rustic buildings in the distance. "Farmland," he says with a nod. "Good folk. Decent folk. I'm sure the recent troubles have placed burdens on them, and they'll be grateful for our aid."


We come upon one of the worn but well-kept farmhouses. There are a few humans milling about the place. Ma Stonefield and Auntie Bernice are in front of the house. Grandma is inside. Pa is nearby, selling his produce. Other family members are at the edges of the property, probably trying to not get eaten by bears or spiders.

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