I –am a terrible Shadow Priest.
Or rather, with these ‘alts-who-have-become-as-beloved-as-mains,’ Blizzard has not taken into account players like me. Cause it’s all about me, right? I swear I think Big Bear reads my mind sometimes, cause his post about our beautiful alts being reduced to farm labor was sadly hysterical. “Hey, there, Knight Paladin, be careful you don’t get cow flop on those shiny sabatons!”
Today, I wanted to play. I wanted to play with Zeptepi, the Priest. Zep is not a bad Holy Priest, but has been struggling with mana changes, so leveling by dungeon is not an option, nor is it expeditious. So, little quest here, little one there. Today she went to where the big, bad yaks are.
But as you see below, and for those of you who know your Bugs Bunny lore, Cookie McYaungol has other plans for her. Below is a screenshot of her bones in the soup. Literally. She had just died there not moments before.
“She” died thirteen times this afternoon. But then again, for those you may accuse me of hyperbole, I lost count.
Big gangs of yak men would aggro like she was made of a bale of hay and winning lottery tickets, and munch her face. Heal, psychic scream, dot, dot, boom, heal, dead. All damn day.
Believe me, this is no crying over spilled soup. So, I have to take it a bit slower with this tissue-thin cloth wearer. All she’s got to work with are shadows and screams–scary, but just not good enough. One or two at a time is very doable, but more than that is death on a stick. She is level 88.66%.
Am I any better at shadow priesty-ness than I was before? Doubtful. But the stew was delicious.