Today’s guest post will be the first of a multi-part contribution from the inimitable Zelmaru of Murloc Parliament. She is making epic poetry accessible to the modern day WoW player by putting the Iliad in WoW terms.
We’ll butcher anything for the sake of WoW around here. Next up will doubtless be the epic retelling of Moby Dick, featuring the fearsome Whale Shark. Just call me Alasmael. Ha.
Book One – WoW Iliad
Tell us, O GM, the urban legend about the nerdrage of Achilles that brought countless ills upon the Alliance. Many a brave soul did it send running back from the spirit healer, and many a hero did it yield a prey to worgs and vultures, for so were the counsels of GM-Zeus fulfilled from the day on which Guild Leader Agamemnon, and great Guild Leader Achilles, first fell out with one another.
And which of the GMs was it that set them on to quarrel? It was GM-Apollo, the subordinate of GM-Zeus and GM-Leto; for he was angry with Agamemnon and sent a pestilence upon the server to plague the Alliance players, because Agamemnon had dishonored Chryses, the Guild Leader of a Horde guild and GM-Apollo’s most loyal groupie.
Now Chryses had come to the port of Ratchet to ransom his guildie, so that the guildie might faction change back to Horde, and had brought with him some goodies for the gbank: moreover he bore in his hand a fishing pole, a sign of peaceful intent, and he sought the Alliance, but most of all the Guild Leaders Agamemnon and Menelaos, who were the chiefs of the highest ranked guilds on the server.
“Leaders of the Alliance,” he QQed, “and all other guilds, may the GMs who work in Blizzard HQ grant you to pwn Ogrimmar, and to return to Stormwind in safety; but free my guildie to faction transfer back, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence to GM-Apollo, subordinate of GM-Zeus.”
On this the rest of the Alliance were typing furiously in Local Defense to respect the fellow guild leader and take the phat lewt that he offered; but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. “Old man,” said he, “let me not find you hanging around our basic campfire, nor yet coming hereafter. Your fishing pole shall profit you nothing. I will not let her transfer back. She shall reach max level in my guild in Stormwind far from her own home, busying herself with grinding tailoring and visiting Goldshire with me (hehe); so GTFO, and do not provoke me or I will file a harassment ticket and it shall suck to be you.”
The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he typed, but went to the shore of the Great Sea and sent in a ticket to GM-Apollo whom lovely GM-Leto had trained. “Hear me,” he QQed, “O GM of the silver text, that protectest Chryses and rulest this server with thy might, hear me. If I have ever sung your praises on the official forums, or sent emails to blizzard HQ on your behalf, grant my ticket, and let your superpower GM hax avenge these my tears upon the Alliance.”
Thus did Chrises type, and GM-Apollo received his ticket. He came down furious from the break room in Blizzard HQ, and logged in with his best showy GM-gear on and with the rage that trembled within him. He teleported his toon down to the coast of Ratchet and, with a face as dark as night, his keyboard rang death as he shot his bolts of sploitz in the midst of them. First he smote their hunter pets, but presently he aimed his shafts at the players themselves, and all day long the players were running back from the graveyard.