Oh Lord. I’m pretty sure I should be taken out back and shot for this, although I am also relatively certain that it’s nowhere near as bad as that wretched zombies book.
- I’m sorry
- I respect Jane Austen and her genius. Always have, always will
- At encouraged me in this harebrained idea
- Said harebrained idea was concocted while under the influence of Benadryl
- I am really so very, very sorry
- You don’t want to read further
- No, really. Stop right here
- I’m sorry
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single tank in possession of a good GearScore, must be in want of a raid team.
However little known the feelings or views of such a tank may be on his first entering a server, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding guilds, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their raiding teams.
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that our server was selected for free incoming transfers?”
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.”
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
“Do you not want to know which servers were offered the transfers?” cried his wife impatiently.
“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”
This was invitation enough.
“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Uther was one of the servers offered the transfer and a good tank of large GearScore rating may be interested in transferring; that he rolled an alt on Monday to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he and some of his friends are to make the transfer by the end of next week.”
“What is his name?”
“Does he come with or without a healer?”
“Oh! Without a healer, my dear, to be sure! A single tank of large GearScore; four or five thousand. What a fine thing for our healers and dps!”
“How so? How can it affect them?”
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his tanking for one of them.”
“Is that his design in transferring here?”
“Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may app to our guild, and therefore you must send him a tell as soon as he comes.”
“I see no occasion for that. You and the dps may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as well geared as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.”
“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of leet pwnage, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has helped to gear five other players, she ought to give over thinking of her own leetness.”
“In such cases, a woman has not often much leetness to think of.”
“But, my dear, you must indeed send a tell to Mr. Bingley when he comes into the server.”
“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”
“But consider your guildies. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to talk to him, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they think they are too uber. Indeed you must talk to him, for it will be impossible for us to send him tells if you do not.”
“You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to hear from you; and I will send an in-game mail to assure him of my hearty consent to his tanking for whichever he chooses of the guild; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”
“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so leet as Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.”
“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all silly and ignorant like other casuals; but Lizzy has something more of quickness than the rest.”
“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own guildies in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.”
“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.”
“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”
“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young tanks of four thousand GearScore points come into the server.”
“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not send them tells.”
“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will send tells to them all.”