Shamus Plays

Shamus Plays
Shamus Plays WoW #1: It's An Imp's Life

Shamus Young | 27 Oct 2010 09:00
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"I guess that's reasonable," he admits. "Okay, the Northshire guard has put out a call for volunteers. The lands around here are in trouble and the militia is no longer enough to hold back ..."

"Got it. Bolstering military support with demonic power. Pretty standard stuff. Just need a little darkness and fire to solve the problems those lunkheads with longswords can't."

"Oh! Not just fighting. I mean, we'll be doing whatever is needed."


"To help!"

I turn my head slightly sideways. I'm still not seeing how he's getting ahead in this, which is usually what people have on their minds when they go to the trouble of summoning a demon. Finally I ask him, "Help? Who?"

"The people!" he shouts, exasperated.

"You - a guy named 'Deathbringer' - summoned a demon to help other people?"

"It's Deathbringer-er, actually. And yes."

"Do you have a brain, or does that mustache go all the way to the center?"

"Come on. Let's see how we can help."

So mister "Deathbringer-er" leads me over to a town guard and - I kid you not - volunteers for service.


"Well met!" says the guard. "The Stormwind guards are hard pressed to keep the peace here, with so many of us in distant lands and so many threats pressing close."

"I'll do whatever I can!" the Boss says. This makes me cringe.

"Right. Speak with my supervisor, Marshal McBride," the guard points to the church behind him. "You'll find McBride inside the Abbey."


"You are NOT taking me into a church," I say when we reach the doors. "Ugh. It reeks of paladins here. I may have to puke. I had scorpid eggs for breakfast and you do not want those to come back up."

"Oh hush," the Boss replies. "You'll be fine."

"But these losers don't even need your help. Look how many of them are just standing around, doing nothing."

"They're guards! They're guarding!"

"They're guards with other guards supervising their guarding. If there were any real problems around here, this lot would have plenty of hands to spare."

Finally he blows his top, "As your master, I order you to stop being so ... annoying!" Then there's this long pause, after which he adds, "Please?"

"Sure. Let's help these guys. Maybe they'll ask us to guard something. Maybe we'll guard that cart over there. That thing looks like it's in a ton of peril."

Inside, the Marshal fellow gives a little pep talk and then assigns us a job: He wants us to go to the field behind the church and kill a bunch of Kobolds. Boss man takes the job, and off we go.

"You have got to be pulling my hoof," I say when I get to the field. "THIS is the emergency that they needed volunteers for?"


"What?" Boss says. "They're Kobolds. They breed fast. They're aggressive. Sometimes."

"They're vermin. Those armored guards could wipe these guys out in two minutes."

"They're busy protecting the abbey!"

"From what?"


"You mean threats like Kobold infestations?"

"Well ... I ... I don't know. Something. The point is, we're doing it now."

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