The Death of Our Beloved Council, and Sindragosa, ofcourse.


From reading my blog, you may by now have gathered the viable information that my progress in ICC is limited to killing Putricide and rescueing the Dreamwalker, two boss fights I’ve only done for the very first time about one week ago. But, ever since I got the hang of being a raid master, I have been unstoppable. I love leading raids. I love inviting people, setting their roles, explaining tactics, yelling raid warnings, passing loot to the highest roll, etc. Maybe it’s the feeling of being in charge – I’m a very dominant, sometimes bossy person, so that would be no surprise – or the respect that comes naturally when you’re a decent raid leader, or simply because my guild – and I – are finally making progress. Finally, we’re no longer magically dissapearing once Saurfang is dead, or cowering behind our companions when we try to slay Festergut; finally, we’re looking at those bosses, our hearts filled with courage, our mind set on destroying them no matter how many times we have to try it, or how high our repair bills are. We have turned from a bunch of sissies to merciless, headstrong warriors! All under my command ofcourse.

On wednesday, we had killed all bosses upto and included the Dreamwalker, sauf Putricide. So thursday, when we were up for a continue of the run, we killed Putricide first, which was a very casual occassion since we killed him without much hassle. Then we made our way to The Frostwing Halls, ready to take on the most fearsome dragon in the history of…fearsome dragons. Courageous we stood while tactics were explained, people double-checked their gear, rotations and talent specs, videos were being watched in the spur of the moment, general warning were exchanged, we crossed our fingers and off we went. The OT disconnected at the start of the fight, so our MT had to take Sindragosa all on his own, which was doable at first, but became too much to handle half-way the fight. People froze randomly from standing to close to people hit with beam, the dragon wasn’t always turned properly, it was total chaos. We wiped, our healers resurrected, the OT logged back on, and off we went again. About halfway the fight, our OT got disconnected again, making us believe he either had a very lousy internet connection or the connection itself was so afraid of Sindragosa it chickened out involuntarily. Eventually we replaced the paladin with a dk tank from our guild, recapped tactics quickly, and recommenced our battle! First phase went like a charm, but second phase everyone was running around like a goblin high on booze. Another wipe, another explenation of tactics, words of encouragement, and into the lion’s (dragon’s) lair again! It took us about 5 tries in total to get it right, but all in all it was quite impressive for us, casual raiders, to kill Sindragosa with more ease than we had ever anticipated. The dragon was slain, the princess freed (not really, the loot did not contain a princess, but rather some pala garments) and we all got to welcome a new achievement to our already quite-impressive achievement list!

But we, fearless warriors as we were, were not yet done with the ICC bosses! Two more had to fall before we got to the final, and most horrific one of them all, the Lich King himself. So we ventured over to The Crimson Halls, sighed as we gazed upon the Blood Council, gathered all the courage our hearts could muster, reread every tactics manual we could find, and surrendered ourselves to the mercy of the gods and godesses of battle. Needless to say, we got our ass beaten in most terrible ways. Keleseth literally ripped us to shreds. But because the world of WoW is so forgiving, we got to release spirit, come back from the dead, pay repair bills large enough to give every sane person a heart attack, and tried again. This time it wasn’t me who was subjected to the whims of Keleseth anymore (being a warlock, I thought tanking him would be a good idea – it turned out not to be), as our main tank took Keleseth while the OT dealed with the two other prigs. Another wipe, mainly because the hunter didn’t know what to do with the bombs, some people weren’t too clear on tacts in general, and one of our healers decided saying “yes” to a ready check, but then switching over to watching Buffy was a good idea. It took us about four times to get the fight right, including a switch of tanks again (Keleseth really is a badass fellow), a massive mount of additional dps done and a ferocious Doomguard coming to our rescue (aka, I pumped out 15k dps the last seconds of the fights, as I was one of the only dpses still alive). Casualties aside, we did make it, and the Blood Council…didn’t.

By then, it was far over our usual bedtime, most of us were tired, and it seemed pointless to try the Blood Queen when we had already endured enough agony for one day. We had been humiliated, beaten, murdered, slaughtered, destroyed, resurrected, and all that, all over again. But we had succeeded in making an impressive amount of progress for one night, and we were content. All under my excellent leadership, of course. They Love Me in That Guild (reference to They Love Me in That Tunnel =p).

Raid is scheduled to continue on monday, which is basically tomorrow, and we will give the Blood Queen our best shot. When she’s dead, our next goal is The Lich King. But I hold no vain hopes that we will kill the king of all evil tomorrow, as I imagine he will turn out to be a far more skilled opponent than the other creatures hidden deeply within Icecrown Citadel.  But one day, The Lich King and I will stand eye to eye, and then we’ll see who of us in the true King (or Queen, since I’m female :p). No, in all fairness, I’ll be glad if we kill Lanathel tomorrow, and get a couple of shots at The Lich King. There’s always still tuesday, right?


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