Welcome to the Kingdom!

Welcome, so we've been looking for a rogue and you've been picked. If you're wanting to raid, then do I have good news for you. This is your introduction to The Dark Kingdom’s raid team. I’m here because I’m being forced to do things against my will. Please help, I’m being held without food or water, and if I’m not freed soon, I’ll descend into madness and be trapped here forever. First and most importantly, I welcome you to the Orcish Oil Wrestlers, the best and only team in the guild. Many people get concerned by the name, but don’t worry, we neither have nor have we ever wrestled in oil. Mostly, it’s a water-based mixture, which is easier on the environment and safe to drink. Which is partly why our group is in such wonderful shape. If you hurry, we can get away before they catch us!

Let me guide you through the team’s most important and valuable members. Any not named are, of course, still important, just not at the top of my list. Trust me, I’ve got more than one list! My name is Blah. It is more of a state of mind than a name. I’m here to be hit in the face over and over, or until what remains of my soul dies.

You might ask yourself, who runs this wonderful, and in no way a Ponzi scheme, of a guild? That would be Notaan. As you can see, he is currently giving a PowerPoint presentation while our team is being thrashed uncontrollably by our newest progression boss. He did call for a taunt a moment ago, so we should be fine in the grand scheme of things. As tanks go, he has the right stuff, possibly in his closet or in a box by the bed; surely one day he’ll find it.

Next up is our greatest strength, Mango, our healing team, now moving on. Oh, you were wondering about the other 17 people huddled together. They are healers, per se, but they’re busy asking the magic mirror which one is hotter. Sadly, they show up and yell at people for their misdeeds; healing is often optional. I’d introduce you to each of them, but Nature would pick your pocket faster than a rogue, which is oddly why we don’t have any around and why you’re so important to our team.

Moving on to our wonderful damage dealers!

Why would you want to know about our policy on bind-on-equip gear? As a rule of thumb, we talk about it and all other important details in passing while pulling trash, so that it makes it slightly uncomfortable for anyone not to be okay with how we do things. That being said, I’ll get us back on track.

Next, you have our ranged group. We’ll go by class because there might be a few things that stand out. Our core team is filled to the brim with the most talented and “special” raiders across the whole of the universe.

Those are our mages; ignore the hunter. I’ll get to Joe later; trust me, it's an issue for all of us. As a side note, if you are wondering where the mages are aside from the afore-mentioned Joe sitting alone. The cardboard cutouts are to hold their place. They should be here tomorrow or the next day. It’s a Wednesday, and like always, they aren’t here yet. We’ll get that introduction done later. Their absence might also be attributed to their having a tendency to die from avoidable causes. Not like the same mechanic would kill you after the nine hundredth time seeing it?

Next, we have the warlocks. They aren’t the best at using their soul stone powers, but they make wonderful cookies. Not much else can be said, also don’t trust Random, he’ll try to steal your kidneys if you aren’t careful.

Against our better judgment and our desire to keep things orderly, the remaining ranged have banded together in protest of the hunters. The most recent power scaling has placed them at the top of the list. The group consists of two dragons. I wish they’d stop making that quacking sound, and a couple of shaman who don’t like water, or soap for that matter. Something about their musk being used to attract a mate. You know, just shaman things and all that. Ignore the dragons; they’re wearing duck costumes. They run around, quacking, and tell people to breathe. This is, in fact, a fresh hell of my own making.

Next, we have melee; there’s our most wonderful warrior. He’s afraid of gnomes, not sure why, but he is a bit strange on the best of days. Especially him, just avoid him, he is rather large so try? Best not to make eye contact. That can be said about all of our wonderful melee. If you hold eye contact, they will go feral and thrash wildly. I once tried to hand out fliers for our non-combat related activities, and I forgot that reading is a lost art for people who spend most nights swinging their weapons at a boss's butthole. The result was predictable: they started attacking each other, then yelled that it was the healer’s fault and went on strike. Their signs were blank, and they forgot why they were protesting in the first place. Like all of their demands, we just tell them yes, and they forget in time.

Ah, our paladins, a blessed group of heroes. Like always, they are known for tantrums, so you being a rogue will be nice. You aren’t the hottest thing right now, so nothing to fear. Even if you were, they are more inclined to hurt themselves than anyone else. Sharing the spotlight is hard for them, though. They are wonderful, but the last time they weren’t recognized for their outstanding efforts, they crashed the town hall forum and complained that the enchanters were purposefully trying to force them out of the top spot. Now, if you find yourself surrounded by paladins, just say for the light and point in a random direction, and say, “ Hey, it's an undead,” and slip away in the chaos.

Ahead, we have the death knights. I’m a tank for now, so I don’t fall into this group, though I am dead inside. Honestly, I try to distance myself from them even on their best days. For now, we have Penispen… Penpenis… names are complicated, so let’s just call him Peni; he hits things and keeps his ghouls from attacking things out of turn, so he is kind of the best member of our team. Oh, about the obvious, the large goober cat wearing plate armor isn’t a hallucination. That’s Charco; he’s not really in the best place right now. Hasn’t gotten over the neglect druids have been getting lately. We just let him have his fun; there’s no need to rock the boat.

On to the officers and how loot works…

What? I’m not missing anything. I mean, yeah, we could talk about the hunters and demon hunters, but that isn’t important. Like I was saying, the officers!

Fine, the demon hunters. Some days we have more than one, but for now we only have that guy. That’s Ren. He likes playing dress-up and constantly asks if he’s pretty. Let’s not make a big deal of it. Its our guess that he is kind of colorblind, but he tries. Also, he and the cat are a packaged deal; it eats any wire or cable you put near it, though.

And those are the hunters. Moving on!

Really, you really want to know about the hunters. We have three. Move on!

Fine! I warned you, if one of them gives you some sort of rash, it isn’t on me!

As requested, there you have our two hunters, Sticky and ugh, I hate saying his name. Xcrush! So edgy. Let’s move to our policy on enchantments and gems.

Do I have to talk about Joe?

Fine! Well, Joe was our third hunter, but one night someone gave him a book, and he yelled, "I’m a mage now." His pets are rather confused, peeing everywhere, and being a menace to the group. Often he argues that those are his barkane furmiliars and we all die a little inside. Yes, he swings a gun around like a wand, which puts a strain on our raid nights, more so the last few, if you ask me. His gun went off and put a hole in Notaan’s seven-thousand-slide presentation. It cost us about four days between pulls. Notaan had to rewrite every page by hand. We didn't need to go over the boss again, but we did. Notably, our last boss trophy was unusable because the confused expression it held as Joe yelled magic missile before putting the gun to the Lich’s face and squeezing the trigger. I’ve not seen such a painful sight in all my years.

Why is there a robe on his left shoulder?

He hasn’t figured out the whole mage thing yet. He just drapes the robes over his shoulder and sits contemplatively while pretending to understand what the cardboard cutouts are saying. We don’t have the heart to tell him they aren’t real, and I’m too busy cleaning up after his pets to bother myself with another thankless task.

So that’s the group… oh, those people, they’re the trials, like you, who wish to be a part of the team full time. Some of them are chewing on the walls and other inedible objects, and parsely over there is yelling more number more better, but I think you’ll fit in just right. I was just as hopeful and bright-eyed when I joined and started tanking as a druid. More than just a part of me died over the several million pulls, and now I’m a death knight, but mostly dead inside.

Tomorrow we will go through orientation and the required reading for our many upcoming adventures. If you wish to leave the group, I will need a 14,000-page resignation letter and a 2,000,000-gold processing fee. Sorry, I don’t make the rules; no one does. Please run. This is hell, and we’re all here as our own jailers.