Chilling in an Unrest fireplace group with my Rogue twink.
500kpp in gear. Fungi. Epic. CoF I don't even get haste from just because I can.
Untwinked Wizard in group. New to server. Still wearing his newbie robe and pieces of cloth.
Puller brings reclusive ghoul magus, we down him quickly, my Ragebringer destroying him with extreme prejudice, easily outdamaging the entire rest of the group combined.
Dusty Bloodstained Gloves on the corpse. The young Wizard salivates at the sight of +25 mana potentially warming his little Gnomish fingers.
"Those are nice," he says. "I could use those."
"I'll bet you could," I think to myself.
Before anyone can say another word, I /random 0 100. The rest of the group follows suit. I can can almost see the Gnome's little pixelated chest beating through his stupid yellow robe as he nervously awaits the result of the roll.
He rolls a 12, and sighs in despair. My roll of 81 is enough to claim the gloves as my own, a princely bounty pried from the hands of the undead.
I loot the Dusty Bloodstained Gloves and inhale their musty aroma.
Upon further inspection of the gloves, I noticed a thread has come loose around the knuckle area.
"These gloves look quite threadworn," I tell the group. "I don't think they are safe to wear. I'd better destroy them."
Without hesitation, I drag the gloves onto my destroy button, and confirm the deed. Seconds too late, the young Wizard's tell arrives.
"Hey don't destroy those I can wear them!"
"Too late," I replied. "They were only worth a few hundred plat anyway."
The young Gnome sits down, dejected.
Content in the knowledge that I saved this poor soul from having to wear badly frayed gloves, I continued to gleefully slaughter mobs with my Ragebringer.
A minute later, a tell arrives. The Wood Elf Druidess in our group. Some do-gooder type no doubt. "Why did you destroy those gloves?" she asks. "The Wiz needed them and you obviously didn't judging by your gear. Guess you never heard of need before greed."
I press R.
I type the word...
"Nope."
I disband myself from the group, and KS the next 5 mobs before agroing the rest of the second floor and training my old group and the main room group as I run to the zone, laughing and clicking my J Boots as some poor bastard Halfling is slain behind me by a ghoul.
I zoom out and see 8-10 players running for their lives.
Shouts and OOC flood my chat, but seconds later I hit the safety of the zone line and quickly emerge on the other side.
Another tell from the Druidess. "Thanks a lot jerk, you got me and half our group killed with that train."
My finger quivers with anticipation. I press R.
"Well," I reply. "Looks like you should have been less concerned with need before greed, and more concerned with the NEED FOR SPEED!"
I immediately /q out and get up to prepare a microwave burrito.
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02-10-2014, 11:08 PM
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