You little shit.
There you are, taking advantage of a rare, free afternoon, coming to terms with the fact that you’ll never get that Moose, or taller, or any of your larger, more “tailed” sisters will see the light of Heroic Archimonde, and who do you see in trade chat, but one young Ftbubbler, Esquire, asking if anyone wants to do a heroic Arch run, for love, gold, and moose-s.
You inquire. It’s fair, You trade. And you’re ported away to the platform, zip boom bang it took about five minutes to bring him down, and look: #19 on the meters!
Oh, there’s more? You got a 720 Level Mace that is now making that angel Zep turning feel-green with envy? And that snooty shaman is just shaking her head in disgust? Oh, and of course there’s the DAMN MOOSE–you had to travel to Moonglade for Velen’s sake, talk to the hairy feathered dude who walked to the lake on two legs, washed off a red rock, and made a moose out of it. Don’t tell me those hippies ain’t smoking some of whatever’s in their herb pouches. At least they share. At least they share.
Look, we’ve all known for a long time I have no shame. I really don’t. I could give two gnome boogers about being carried for this moose. If it put some gold in a paladin’s pocket and made me a little happier, screw it. And who more noble than a shitty shadow priest named Pessah to see it through?
And she didn’t die.