|"Go for the eyes, Boo," indeed.|
When WoW first found me, I was a little behind the times and in love with Baldur's Gate. I quickly realized that the easiest way to, ya know, stay alive in that game was self heals. Since Paladins were strong on defense, had wonderful healing, and possessed a decent offense, they seemed to be the obvious choice, especially since I found that it was a very rare occasion when I even felt threatened by any of the mobs or bosses.
And so, staring at the character creation screen, I pondered long and hard as to what I wanted. Lol, yeah, right. Dwarf Paladin right off. Actually, my first character was going to be a Draenai Paladin, but this was in a time of slower-than-dialup service, and, wanting to play, I settled on the dwarf so that I could download "The Burning Crusade" overnight. This was at the beginning of Crusade, and my first entry into WoW, so I had no clue what a stupid choice going for Paladins was, and, sadly, didn't realize my mistake until it was waaaay too late (godmode in pre-Lich King was the balm from Gilead that almost made the previous, torturous period worth it, though).
During the forging of my resilience (to a horrid class), my brother was flittering around with a little toon he made. He rarely got to play, and this was a bit before the whole "mount at level 20" change, so it took a while for him to raise his little pet toon up to level 40. Of course, as soon as he did that, he lost interest and moved on to other areas of entertainment (read: girls), so I snagged up his little guy. By this time, I was tired of slamming my face into walls since Blizz seemed to hate melee classes (or just Paladins?). I embraced my dark side and picked up my brother's mantle. Enter Summongods (did I mention my brother was 13 when he made this guy?).
I have to admit: it felt good.
It felt good to dot up a dozen mobs and watch them die, slowly.
It felt good to know that, even if that Horde ganked me, he, too, would languish in pain until succumbing to an agonizing death.
It felt good to steal my enemies' life force to either give me a resurrection, health, or a handy snack.
I finally understood Gul'dan. To quote Mel Brooks,"It's good to be the King!"
Since then, I've played with Priests, ransacked with Rogues, dallied with Druids, and shanked with Shamans, but none of the classes have held a candle to my wondrously wicked Warlock.
So here's to my brothers and sisters in the dark arts: May all your fires be green (soon™)!