Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

 

Once upon a time there lived a little troll named Sil who lived for adventure. One fine day while exploring the beautiful and bounteous halls of Blackwing Lair he spotted the chance to begin a new and fascinating journey through the lands.

 

The ground shook as the huge draconoid fell to the floor, the whelplings around him fleeing in horror at the death of their guardian. The raid gazed down at the corpse wondering what treasures would be found on the body. Their looks of wonderment turned to disgust at the emergence of druid and hunter loot from the corpse. The little troll lashed out at the corpse in disgust when he remembered in the corner of his mind that a stinking night elf in Cenarion Hold had offered a quest to return the head of this magnificent beast. Drawing his shining blade he sliced through the neck, inadvertently showering the looting hunters with gore. Picking up the severed head he tucked it into his belt. Realising it was time to continue through Blackwing Lair the troll attempted to slip into the shadows but was thwarted by the huge head, still leaking blood onto the floor. Undeterred by this the rogue, showing the same skill that allowed him to stealth with a sword so large it makes taurens look small, "hid" the head amongst his clothing and continued with his night of raiding.

 

The call for Ogrimmar portals that night was met with jubilation as the little troll raced towards Silithus on the back of his wyvern. Holding his breath he raced to the night elf in question and whipped the head out beneath his cloak. The elf's eyes barely widened. The elf explained that in order to avoid Anachronus simply eating him as soon as he approached the troll would have to prove his worth by destroying the enemies of the dragonflight, namely Silithids. Drawing his sword the troll launched himself off the hill and straight into Hive Ashi, dismembering the first bug in an impressive display to sword sweeps and eye gouging. Reaching down into the corpse he victoriously displayed the silithid carapace. 199 to go. Almost ninety minutes later the now bored and disillusioned troll reached down and plucked the 200th carapace. Snickering in delight, he mounted on his faithful raptor and steered his weary body back to the repellent elf. The elf chucked the carapaces into a pile and remarked "41,800 to go". The roar of the troll could be heard across Silithus and for a brief moment he tried to calculate how much rep he would lose with Cenarion Circle if he separated the elf's legs from its torso.

 

Days blurred into weeks as the winter ravaged Kalimdor, until one day the spring arrived suddenly. As many sentient beings are prone to do the little troll decided to do a spot of cleaning, namely in his quest log. Quickly realising that farming 41,800 carapaces would take more than 3 hours the troll devised a cunning plan to get them all, namely slave labour. Casually mentioning that the Silithids were capable of dropping some beautiful epics and that that they might be worth farming, subtly dropping in that he also needed a drop or two, he assembled a small but devoted team of farmers. This team farmed in droves, day and night, to cull the bugs and seek out the juicy epics. With time running out the troll summoned all available allies to him and in one night to cries of "Kill them all" and "The only good bug is a dead bug", the population of Silithus was decimated by the valiant trolls, orcs, taurens and deadboys of Umbrage. As the night drew on, their number decreased until the troll and his most faithful farmers ploughed on through the night in an effort to kill enough of the annoying bug things. The sun rose and approached its zenith as the weary troll counted up his carapaces. The cry went out "Only fifteen left" and the weary farmers aimed for the nearest bugs in an effort to finish and forever banish the memories of the past 24 hours from their mind. The last bug fell and reaching into the corpse the troll drew forth a beautiful jewelled amulet, the long promised epic. Tossing aside the worthless piece of caster crap the troll grasped the last carapace and staggered (vaguely) towards Cenarion Hold.

 

With the mighty Anachronus appeased, the troll flew off to the Caverns of Time to express his feelings about the pre-quest to the giant dragon. The weary farmers, probably by then brain washed into following the troll wherever he went, mounted up too, making a train of half asleep hordies meandering across the desert. Talking to Anachronus the troll discovered he had to return to Silithus and find the special crystal by the gates. The party travelled through the desert studiously avoiding anything resembling a hive. Spreading out they searched for the crystal running round and round, wondering if it was invisible or if their damaged brains were only capable of seeing bugs and nothing more. Finally the crystal was spotted, a tiny spec on the floor. This discovery was not aided by the fact that Taurens are very very fat and have a habit of standing ON things and not next to them.

 

The event surroundin the sealing of the gate unfolded before the farmers as they watched the shadowy bugs and dragons battle before the gates. The arrival of the mighty sons and daughters of the dragonflight and their desperate, and ultimately successful, attempt to end the invasion. As the images faded the revitalised farmers demanded more to do and the troll returned to Anachronus to learn he had to speak to the 3 great dragons to recover their quest items.

 

Sunken temple was the first stop, with the troll blessing his ability to stealth as he skipped the whole content and sneaked directly to the Spirit of Eranikus. His jubilation was marred by the arrival of a night elf (though he was grateful it was not a gnome) who divulged the steps needed to free Eranikus from the temple and then arrange for his final redemption. The elf's honeyed words sounded suspiciously like hours of farming, but hoping for the best the troll made his way to Aszhara to seek out the mighty and wise Azuregos.

 

Briefly regretting butchering the dragon the previous day the troll searched around for the fat blue one but was unable to find him. Speaking with wise members of his guild he was informed that he would be able to find Azuregos' spirit if he was one also. Suspicious of being tricked into dying the troll nonetheless trusted his faithful friends and launched himself off the Aszhara cliffs. Landing at the bottom the troll was momentarily puzzled before remembering he had learnt safe fall a few levels back. Muttering under his breath he launched himself into the water and sat under the surface watching the bar go down. Boring. As the bar reached about 10% the troll rejoiced at his incoming death. The bar then disappeared. Looking around he saw a warlock swimming past him on the way to collect the dousing water for Molten Core. Glancing at his buffs he was enraged to see he now possessed Underwater Breathing. Resisting the urge to spam /very rude at the generous warlock the troll decided on one of the most humiliating deaths possible and hurled himself at the nearest murlock.

 

The Spirit of Azuregos was about as helpful as a chocolate teapot and suddenly all those memories of ganking him resurfaced and the troll inwardly rejoiced at the remembered sight of his corpse. After a long and fruitless conversation it transpired that Azuregos had given his shard to a minnow :/ A long quest chain involving a gnome in Tanaris was offered and the troll sped on his way down there to get things started. The first part of the Azuregos questline was to find a giant 500lb chicken and deliver it to the chef in Tanaris. The troll gathered his friends around him and moved to Ashenvale to start the collection of the nightmare fragments for the Eranikus summoning. The joy of killing something other than a bug was obvious as the raid sliced through the dragons in the hope of finding the fragment. This joy was slightly reduced by finding it took 5 minutes to kill the dragons and then thirty minutes for them to repop. The situation was further ruined by the dreaded message "Dueling is not allowed here".

 

A voice suddenly spoke, cutting clearly through the jabbering of the raid. It spoke and people listened, a stunned silence followed. For the first time in living history a member of Team Hunter had come up with a plan (well they had come up with plans before but this was a GOOD plan). The raid split into 2 farming groups, one travelling to Feralas and the other remaining at Ashenvale. The poor travel sick troll was then yanked through portal after portal to continually kill dragons. His teammates helped him along by directing him at dragon packs and giving him a little push. Hour upon fruitless hour of farming followed as the stubborn dragons refused to cough up their fragment. As the fourth hour drew to a close the troll grew bored of the sight of dragons and felt the urge to find and kill a 500lb chicken.

 

The raid descended on the Isle of Dread like a tornado, tearing through the mobs that inhabited the island the Umbling and Umblets searched for the giant chicken slaying everything in their path in their eagerness. As the raid split up more and more to cover the whole area a small group disappeared into a huge cloud of lightning. The first warning cries reached the rest of the raid as it became apparent that the boss had been aggroed without warning. Cries of "Wait for us" echoed across the isles along with animated discussion about how they engaged a giant chicken by accident. These were succinctly answered by "WTF, it looks nothing like a [expletive deleted] chicken". Fortunately the island was not that big and with reinforcements flooding in from every direction to kill the "chicken who looks nothing like a [expletive deleted] chicken", it was soon outclassed. The beast fell to the ground mortally wounded, and the first of the Azuregos quests was swiftly completed. Amazingly a 500lb chicken is very easy to carry.

 

With the night dragging on the troll turned his attention to assembling the book "Draconic for Dummies"(DfD). Reading the quest carefully the troll set out to southern Tanaris to find the gyrocopter and swim south to "a point of interest". Seeing an island far in the distance the troll set out bravely, swimming towards it with all his energy. His joy at such an easy quest was considerably reduced when he noticed the yellow fatigue bar dropping at a rather alarming rate. Dead. The troll, displaying the stubbornness his race is proud of, ran back to his corpse and continued the attempt. Dead. Fresh Tactics! Casting an eye over the late night allies he could call upon he managed to convince a troll of equal intellect and a shaman that what they really wanted to do at 2am was try to get to this island. Together with a pretty (but dead) warlock they travelled down to formulate their plan. Assured by one party member that it was possible to mount WITH water walk on the first 10 minutes was spent getting water walk, mounting up and sinking. Realising he had been deceived in the most cruel manner the troll settled for the age old 'run like the wind tactic'. Setting off, believing the shaman would give all party members water-walk, the troll jogged across the ocean, sprinting as the yellow fatigue bar ticked down. Spotting the safety of the island the troll quaffed a pot and a healthstone and made it. He turned around in triumph to urge his comrades on to find only two of them had accompanied him. The shaman dashing for the safe spot died 0.00001cm from it. The other troll (also a rogue) forged onward, wearing not his armour but instead a beautiful blue dress (male troll). Sadly this was to cost him dearly as the lack of stamina on said dress ensured he did not have the hp to make it and he died 0.00002cm from safety. The shaman ankhed and ressed the dress-wearing freak. Looking around for the warlock, the trolls were mortified to discover that she had been left behind. The shaman protested innocence claiming he had buffed everyone.

 

The island was a virtual paradise, inhabited only by three rather worried looking pirates who, at level 44/45, were not in a position to threaten even a dress wearing lvl 60. The luck of the trolls was rewarded by finding the items needed for THE next step of the DfD (Draconic for Dummies) quest chain. It transpires the "point of interest" needed was way closer to the shore and gave a buff for super speed swimming! Anyhow the paradise island looked very appealing and after a spot of light fishing it was remarked how idilic it was and a very romantic spot. The trolls looked round mournfully, both wishing that the warlock had been buffed and had made it across so perhaps they might enjoy some light sunbathing. The shaman however did not seem as upset and kept glancing sideways at the dress-wearing troll in a manner which suggested it might not have been an accident that the female had been left unbuffed. Always able to take a hint our hero took steps to leave the island asap. The other troll followed very very very quickly.

 

Returning to Narain (the gnome questmob) the troll agreed to undertake a rescue of the gnome's book. Collecting a disguise he whisked himself to Winterspring to perform the handoff of some fake gold. Drawing close to the spot he donned his disguise, now appearing to be a GNOME! WTF! Close to suicide, the troll vowed to struggle on and pumped his little legs as fast as he could in an effort to get this over with. After a few seconds he realised he wasn't going anywhere. Puzzled by this rather strange turn of events he glanced around to discover that his new height meant that the bottom 3ft of his sword was now firmly embedded in the ground. Muttering under his breath about genocide to all gnomes he carefully freed his blade and, forced to hold it in his hand, continued onwards. Reaching the ransom point the fake gold was placed and soon a gnome in a weird flying machine arrived to pick it up. Sadly blessed with a rudimentary intelligence the gnome saw through the disguise and feeling for his gyrocopter called for "Number Two". A giant gorilla ran towards the brave troll/gnome hybrid and attacked. Still struggling with being an gnome and wishing to die, our brave hero put up slight resistance against the 90khp gorilla that hit him for 1.5k every hit. The troll breathed a sigh of relief as his troll form was returned upon death. He returned to the point of death and resurrected, fully intending to solo the fat gorilla now he was restored to his troll glory. Just as he was about to engage it , the cowardly creature depopped. While fully confident of his ability to solo such a creature the troll realised that perhaps he was being selfish and should allow some others to enjoy the fun also.

 

As he travelled to collect some more gold he cast his eye about for potential fighters. The dearth of warriors was a slight problem until he convinced a druid that really what he wanted to do at 4.15am was tank a gorilla. Browsing through the people in Ogrimmar his eyes lit upon two loitering members of Maligned and a skulking Conviction rogue. These brave recruits were lured to Winterspring by the promise of seeing a bear and a monkey fighting. Pausing only to pick up the aforementioned shaman the six brave adventurers returned to the ransom spot. In a display of typical gnomish intelligence the ransomer, Doctor Weavil, fell for the same fake bag of gold, and amazingly saw through his disguise again. This time however the giant monkey was thoroughly spanked by the bear and the adventurers returned to Ogrimmaar to sleep.

 

The next night and day the dragons of Feralas, Hinterlands and Ashenvale were comprehensively slapped by Umbrage forces, ably aided by some outsiders. All three Fragments from the trash were collected and the scene was set for some serious outdoor carnage with the Twilight Corrupter and Eranikus. First though the team of 13 set out for Alcaz island, the home of Dr Weavil. The troll, having been reliably informed that Weavil was either a 5 or 10 man boss, approached with confidence and his 12 fellows grinned with glee at the thought or dismembering the little gnome. Tactics were laid out "Just kill him", a tank carefully selected "You're the only warrior, you tank" and the raid engaged. Dr Weavil, grinning manically as he engaged us, mind controlled the warrior who set about dispatching the raid while the Doctor set about cutting through everyone with 4k hits. A lone voice was heard "Perhaps I was wrong about it being 10 man", the troll deciding that the fight was lost vanished leaving his fellows to be butchered by the insane gnome and his new bitch.

 

The decision to leave Dr Weavil until another day was made and the farming of the other chapters of DfD was begun in earnest. The troll began in Undercity, using amazing cunning and skill to gain the book there before turning his attention to Stormwind. Sneaking through to the library the chapter was recovered and the troll began to sneak out. Realising he was right by the throne room the troll, possibly a little high from the stench of humans, decided he would see what the lord kept in his pockets. Creeping forward he managed to get to within about 30y before he has spotted. Doing his impression of a Paladin the troll tagged evasion, swallowed a Limited Invulnerability Potion and activated hearthstone. Sadly the potion ran out with about 2 seconds left on hearth and the guards rather rudely interrupted. The troll muttering something about wanting a full set of Lawbringer, tagged sprint and vanish and fled from the city.

 

Blasted Lands was the next step and once again the troll turned to his allies to produce a farming team. Enough people were found, but disaster! No tank! Fortunately the situation appeared to have been saved by the appearance of a mighty warrior who agreed to help. The team was elated and made their way to Blasted lands. The troll arrived first, followed by the mage and hunter and warrior. The warrior seeing the needed mob bravely charged into battle against the 62e. The rest of the team sat on the ground wondering if they should mention that the shaman was still in Swamp of Sorrows. Death did nothing to deter the mighty warrior as the shaman, after a suitable amount of time laughing, arrived in Blasted Lands to restore the life of the brave warrior. Sitting to drink following this the shaman was slightly puzzled to see the warrior resurrect, immediately change to battle stance and charge the elite again. Possessing all of 300 hp after his resurrect it appeared to the rest of the group that perhaps this was not the brightest plan. It became clear rather abruptly that the warrior was unable to hold his liqueur and perhaps might be better suited to lying in the dark for 12 hours to recover. A new tank was recruited and the Felguard Elites battered for about an hour until they coughed up their chapter.

 

The following night was the zerging of Molten Bore, but before that the chance for revenge on the gnome! Taking a raid of 30 the team cleared the area and sent in the hunters to clear his house of annoying adds so we could get the boss all by himself. This plan, while you might think was simple and foolproof, ended up being decidedly trickier and as mournful voice over TS declared that "this add is beating the [expletive deleted] out of me", a quick glance confirmed the initial fears were confirmed and the hunter had managed to pull the boss and pretty much all the adds at the same time. Cries of "That's the boss as well you fool" were answered by "oh yeah, i didn't notice". This uber display of pulling was followed by a disgraceful betrayal by our healers who healed up said hunter instead of leaving him to be decapitated. The gnome was handily destroyed and his diary and chapter recovered without further problems.

 

Over the past few weeks the little troll, mightily bored of going to this place (Molten Core) had been devising ways to make the trip more interesting, and implemented some of these little tricks to "aid" the trip. Getting warlocks to cast rain of fire on the healers during Gehennas and watching them run around in terror, triggering all the warrior/rogue bandage cooldowns on Geddon and snickering as they can't bandage and ofc the ever popular run at the mages while bombed all appeared to him as very entertaining ways to spend time [Disclaimer: Trying any or all of these things might not be conducive to a smooth raid]. All these were to no avail though as Molten Bore lived up to its name. Ragnaros was dispatched and his chapter of the DfD retrieved.

 

With the quest almost completed a Winterspring farming team was assembled and ventured into Darkwhiper Gorge to retrieve the chapter from there. The little troll, never having been there before, was overjoyed to see Succubus with no warlocks about! After a lifetime of being slapped by warlocks for flirting with their little pets the troll happily moved towards them. His enjoyment was considerably heightened when he heard the quite charming noises they made as he thrust away from behind. Sadly this joyous farming session was cut short when the 15th or so mob dropped the chapter. Remembering to mark down this place as a possible holiday destination he joined the rest of the guild in preparing for the fights against the Twilight Corrupter and Eranikus.

 

The troll once again donned a gnome disguise and penetrating the heart of the dorf kingdom located some valiant warriors from the alliance side. As the hordes of Umbrage descended upon duskwood, a legion of griffins flew out from Stormwind carrying some fearless alliance members to Duskwood to fight alongside them in days reminiscent of the alliances of old. As the troll entered Duskwood the Corrupter whispered in his mind, taunting him and daring him to take the shard. Happy to finally be able to admit to hearing voices in his head the troll merrily informed the assembled throng.

 

Overcoming their language difficulties the two sides prepared to take down the Twilight Corrupter in a tactical fight. The Umbrage maintanks briefly allowed themselves to be mind controlled and buffed by the evil lolladins and readied themselves for battle. The combined forced of Mythical Honour and Umbrage quickly subdued the annoying satyr, in the end losing only 2 people during the fight. After mocking those who died the guilds each made their way to Moonglade to witness the summoning of Eranikus.

 

Remulos and the troll summoned the evil dragon and after a brief hiccup the two guilds scoured the town for shades, swiftly finding them and dispatching them. Delighted to find that he had dedicated healers the troll hurled himself into battle desperately trying not to get pvp enabled so that Thunderfury would not attempt to debuff the whole of Mythical Honour. Eranikus was dual tanked by a fearless orc warrior and Remulos with Tyrande spamming massive heals. As Eranikus approached death he called out for redemption and was forgiven by Tyrande and Remulos. The fight was over. The bloodfueled Umbrage members, surrounded by cheering Alliance players, felt cheated of blood and desperately searched for something to kill. As one their eyes lit on a tiny figure that reminded them of the evil Dr Weavil. Barely pausing for breath the whole raid drew their weapons and dismembered the offending gnome. Strangely the cheering from the alliance got even louder...........

 

As the final day approached the troll and his friends prepared for the Blackwing lair clearance needed to gain Nefarian's shard. For the whole day the sound of pots being made could be heard throughout Ogrimmar and the troll stocked himself full of items, even going so far as to leave his beloved lockpicks in the bank in favour of more pots.

 

The great journey began at 1930 with the guild knowing they would have to basically halve their previous best time to complete the quest. The assembled players held their breath as Vael was triggered and the timer started to tick. Showing remarkable focus and drive the rogues failed to over aggro and dispatched the mighty wyrm in record time. Barely pausing for breath the guild cut a bloody swathe through the trash until the mob that started all this madness stood before them. With Broodlord and Firemaw quickly dispatched the hated trash were engaged and true to form did their best to slow the raid down. Filled with nervous energy the guild stood before the 3 Wyrmguards at the Ebonroc pull. The guild chat was silent but it was clear that the same thought was filling everyone's mind "Please [insert relevant diety name] don't let it be 3 green mobs". The pull was made and the first call went up "Bronze", a collective sigh of relief could be heard. The second call of "bronze" was greeted with less relief and the third "bronze" was met with a hail of rather colourful phrases especially in the rogue channels. Delighted to see an Ashkandi wielding warrior who given the chance would kill everyone with his whirlwind, the rogues valiantly charged into combat. And died. The slow process of grinding down bronze mobs continued until the last one fell to the ground. Next was the turn of Ebonroc, a mob which delights in getting himself into bugged positions and resisting taunts, even he was aware his time was up and died in short order. The troll glanced at the timer and realised to his delight that there was still plenty of time left and this feeling of joy was enhanced by the fast dispatching of Flamegor and then the final 3 wyrmguards.

 

Confronted with the sometimes vanilla, sometimes tricky Chromaggus the guild waited to find out his abilities with baited breath. The incinerate was greeted with a cheer as the timer to the second breath counted down. The dreaded Time Lapse struck. While not a lot more difficult than the others the Time lapse dog does take longer to kill, not the kind of thing that is desired on a timed run. The tanks fought valiantly for aggro and the healers kept them alive admirably. The dog lay dead and only the Lord of Blackwing stood before them.

 

The raid prepared for Nefarian, not knowing which colours would swoop from the doorways and if they would spell the doom of our attempt. The games began and the mobs poured out from the doors....... into a solid wall of steel and hate. The first mobs died so fast that it was hard to even see the colours as the uber buffed raid ripped through them. The desire to beat the encounter was clear as each person gave 100% and the mobs were scythed down like wheat. Nefarian as ever did his best to be an annoyance as he danced around shadowbolting people.

 

As the last of his minions died the Lord landed and despite his best efforts to trundle around and kill the healers and rogues his attention was forced onto the mighty tauren in front of him. His best efforts to turn away from this figure were thwarted and when his summoned minions were comprehensively decimated he knew his time was up. As his final few hp were removed the guild as a whole glanced down at the timer to see if there was time for a victory celebration or if it would be a mad teleport and ride as the final seconds ticket down. Three hours and twenty eight minutes. The troll's heart swelled with pride.

 

The guild was eager to complete the questline and there was only one thing left to do. Kill the minnow that Azuregos spoke of and retrieve the final shard. The troll, doing what rogues do best, relieved the guild bank of some Elementium Ore, and diamonds and flew down to tanaris to construct the second most expensive item ever. The rest of the guild located the maelstrom that was home to Maws. The magical portal that whisked the troll to the raid appeared and the mass water walk buffing began. Accompanied once again by the Dr Weavil look alike, who seems to have become an adopted mascot, the raid prepared for the final summon. The troll having heard that the minnow (read as giant shark) insta killed the first person on the hate list did what all good rogues do in such times. Summoned and vanished. This effort was rewarded as the shark proceeded to chomp down on the first warrior dealing around 10,000 damage in the first second. Determined to avenge the death of their beloved orc the rest of the guild filleted said shark and basked in the glory.

 

The little troll, both weary and elated, made his way slowly to Tanaris. Standing before the mighty Anachronus he handed in the last of the shards and there in the desert was gifted with the Sceptre of Shifting Sands.

 

Acknowledgements: This quest is truly a guild effort. The amount of effort put in over the last week has been phenomenal and every member of the guild can feel justifiably proud. I would also like the thank Mythical Honour for flying to our aid on the Twilight Corrupter and Eranikus, both were awesome encounters when played without lag, we were honoured to share them with you. Special thanks to Yu who, as ever, accepted his ganking with good grace, as well as to Arakasi, Root, Arynn and Vansire. Many thanks also to Raspi, Holte and Tiramus who were insane enough to still be awake at 4.15 and happy to help. Thanks also to Bodoka and any others who i have forgotten who helped us to farm the Fragments from the dragon trash. Most of all my thanks to the guild though who pulled together superbly, farmed with purpose and cleared BWL in such an impressive time.