Slain by Elf

'You run your longsword through him and he drops to the ground, dead.'

'Good. That means I can move and not provoke an opportunity attack.'

'Not from the dead kobold, you're right.'

'I meant the other one, the one that's still alive.'

'But you also don't provoke from the dead one.'

'Which I believe is a change from third edition.'

'...but not 3.5.'

Hired by a doddery academic to map out an old abandoned keep near the town of Winterhaven, I join a disparate band of adventurers. As we start our journey the introductions are made. 'What's your name?'

'Iago.'

'That's nice, Argo. Me Jane. HA HA HA!'

'No, Iago. *sigh* Do you have no culture?'

For some reason the conversation then lacks for the journey, but excitement is still to be had when some kobolds jump out from behind some rocks, probably shout 'Utinni!', and start attacking.

A couple of eagle-eyed fellows I find myself adventuring with quickly spot these kobolds and leap in to action, drawing weapons with lightning speed and loosing missiles before I have even noticed what's occurring.

'Do we have combat advantage over the kobolds in the surprise round?'

'As they are the ambushers I would say it's safe to suppose that we don't.' Despite this initial setback, as well as the shaky introductions, we work together to defeat the kobold... well, I'm reluctant to use the word 'threat'. Warlock, warlord, fighter, ranger and wizard, our different abilities and powers work in harmony and we swiftly kill the ambushers.

Onwards to Winterhaven, where we shall spend the night before heading to the old keep.

The party heroically defeated the monster and saved the world! Had we not succeeded I wondered previously if not saving the world meant we could no longer play in the Iron Heroes setting. After all, it would have been destroyed, there would be nowhere to adventure. It was pointed out that this is a ludicrous suggestion, if only because there were many other groups worldwide who would still be playing in the Iron Heroes setting. The source books and adventures aren't destroyed because one instance brought the end of the world to it, so there was no reason why we couldn't continue in a different instance.

It is indeed a silly idea that we can't play Iron Heroes should an adventure cause the end of the world. It was never really meant as a serious suggestion, rather a remark on how absurd it is to threaten the existence of an RPG world, when the end of the world requires the death of a character.

The character is more important to the player than the world. After all, the player controls and influences just about every aspect of the character, mostly in reaction to the world. The character is the player's extension in to the world, and without the character the world may as well not exist. Understandably, players can get quite attached to their characters, and the death of a character is a major event in most gaming groups. Characters are heroes and expected to overcome nearly all obstacles and enemies ultimately to prevail. Players can also inject some of their own personality in to the character, or create something new to explore different aspects of ourselves, so to have one die can feel like losing a hamster; it is inevitable given time, but still unpleasant to experience.

When it comes to creating characters I nearly always try to create something different from before, whether it is a different race, class, morality, fighting style, or a combination of them all, I much prefer not to try to copy any previous character I've played. (The only time I have purposely created a similar character was after an unlucky first-round death, before I even got comfortable in my chair.) For me, if I can return the next week with essentially the same character then what concern does death hold for me? I see no reason to fret about who I am battling if I can simply wipe the wounds from my character sheet and continue where I left off every time, for there would be no drawbacks to character death. And where's the danger or risk, where is the sense of adventure that comes from having something to lose?

For a character death to have some kind of meaning within the game there need to be penalties associated with it, which is essentially why there are penalities for resurrecting dead characters. You can choose to play the same character in a weakened state, holding on to all the memories and alliances built up that can be drawn on for a fuller game experience at the cost of being a little less effective, or you create a new character, one with no party-created history but with all the possibilities that come from a blank slate. If I could simply clone my character each time I needed to, I would have less reason to care about him.

And so saving one's character should be like saving the world. The fight we were in was dangerous, but it had the additional threat of the end of the world should we fail. But if we can come back next week to the same, unaltered world is it really all that different from losing a character in any other battle? Of course, had we failed in the fight it would have meant all of our characters' deaths, much like any battle except that our odds of defeat were much greater, and so we all had a personal reason to be victorious. But above and beyond our character dying, how can we feel the effect of the end-of-the-world scenario without forcing ourselves to admit that, to us, the world is destroyed and thus we can no longer use Iron Heroes as a setting? If all we did was 'clone' the world, or deny its destruction, how is that any different from losing a character? In both cases I create a new character and come back to the same world as before. Because of this, the threat of the world's destruction becomes essentially meaningless to me.

Of course, one could make a similar argument for the destruction of a city, or the villain marrying the king's daughter, should neither event have any effect on later adventures, and fundamentally you'd be right. As a dramatic device the destruction of the world seems far more significant than an unhappy marriage, and for it to carry the weight of that significance in the minds of the players there needs to be more of a threat than other dramatic devices entail. With a baron getting away with manslaughter offering the same player-consequences as the world ending it strikes me as difficult to instill a feeling of threat.

At least in the above cases of the city, king and baron there is the possibility of events having repercussions for subsequent adventures. The end of the world, unless you stop playing in the setting, essentially has none, which is why it fails as a dramatic device. An evil wizard corrupting a king's rule thus offers a far greater threat to continuing adventures than the end of the world, and because of that I know which outcome I'd be more concerned about preventing.

I may have brought up the subject with a facetious comment, but it was motivated by wanting a more meaningful experience when playing RPGs. Well, if not more meaningful, at least less meaningless.

Sapphire, my warrior with a tail, is in Stranglethorn Vale taking care of the pirate population when I spy some floating wreckage nearby. Fishing has never been a profession I've taken too much interest in, being rather too passive and not offering much direct reward. With each new character and the early fishing quests I try yet again to keep my fishing skill level current with my character, and each time it peters off quite quickly. The same is true of Sapphire, but I have perhaps the highest skill in fishing than on any other character. On a previous time fishing I manage to pull a crate out of some floating wreckage in which I find a book that teaches me how to spot concentrations of fish. I thought that would be handy, but now I have yellow dots on the mini-map forever reminding me that I could be fishing.

With the thought of perhaps some interesting treasure again waiting for me I whip out my fishing rod for a few minutes of relaxing, or boring, fishing at the wreckage. I fortuitously have the skill required to fish in the area and, to my delight, I pull a couple of mithril-bound chests from the wreckage. Inside one of those chests is a 210 skill enchanting formula to add stamina to a shield! This is not a particularly common formula to find and is particularly handy for my enchanter wannabe-tank. Maybe I should take more time to fish.

An ornate dagger is spotted in the basement, amongst a pile of junk. Being interested in the occult, the rabbi moves closer and bends down to pick it up. To everyone's amazement, and some disbelief, the dagger appears to fly up from the floor of its own accord to attack the rabbi! He tries to dodge but his aged frame simply isn't agile enough, and the dagger strikes in to his flesh.

As quickly as the dagger flashed through the air it becomes motionless, and the marine in our group wants to ensure it stays that way. 'I sure as hell don't want that thing jumping up at me, whatever caused it. Let's put a large rock over it to stop it from moving.'

'Soldier, personally I would advise against that, what with it still being in my leg. Professor, you're a biologist, perhaps you could remove the dagger safely? I'm in a bit of pain.'

'I don't know about that. What if it attacks me?'

'Oy vey, then I do it myself', and with that the rabbi eases the dagger out from his flesh and tosses it to one side, wincing with the pain as he does.

'Hey, rabbi, the dagger didn't move when you tossed it. Why don't you go ahead and examine it now?'

The rabbi's reply was perhaps anachronistic to the 1920s and better left unquoted.

Knifey has been hanging around with all the cool Netherwing Drake-riding kids in Shattrath City, having moved on from Azeroth through the Dark Portal. I've been using the Scryer's inn as a resting place for now, mostly because the jump from the Scryer tier down to the upper city whilst painful can be survived. It's about time I make the choice between affiliating myself with either the Aldor or Scryer faction though.

When Tiger reached Shattrath City, shortly after the Dark Portal opened, she chose to side with the Scryers mostly on a whim. Whilst ostensibly from an opposing faction they had brighter and more colourful designs, offered an opportunity to see life from a different point of view, and even if they weren't night elves they were still elves. It was only much later that I found out the Aldor offer better reputation-based armour and recipes for her being a blacksmithing protection warrior.

Faust, my warlock, pottered in to the Outlands fashionably late and found his way to Shattrath. It might have been reasonable to think that I would not be making the same rash decision as I had with Tiger and research the choice of Aldor against Scryer. Reasonable, but wrong, as I chose Aldor for no other reason than Tiger was Scryer and it seemed like a good idea to have someone in each camp. I had spent more time around female Draenei and their tails by then as well. Needless to say, the Scryers hold better rewards for an enchanter and tailor who happens to be a damage-dealing spellcaster.

It's reassuring to realise that I eventually learn my lesson, and Knifey refused to pick sides until I had done some research. I asked the quartermasters for each faction what they had to offer me should I decide to work to advance their cause. 'What role do you take in the adventuring milieu?', I am asked, to which I reveal my poison-dripping daggers and mask my pink-haired head to answer I am a rogue. 'Ah, well, there's a generic weapon that could be considered rogue-ish, I suppose, but nothing of note and no armour. Still, you can get that kind of equipment in the many dangerous dungeons in the Outlands and surely don't need to rely on us for that. Now, my little friend, what profession do you enjoy as a money sink?' After pointing out that I am, in fact, a tall one, I eagerly reply that I tinker as an engineer in my spare time, creating all manner of interesting gadgets that only occasionally explode. 'A what?'

The above conversation was identical for both the Aldor and Scryer, with no weapons, armour or schematics on offer that would attract me to one faction over the other. I thought I must have overlooked something, as surely engineers and rogues couldn't be entirely overlooked in the broadest storyline arc of the Outlands. I called up my Gnomish internet browser and searched for "scryer or aldor for rogue engineer", and the first hit was precisely that question answered with 'Neither one gives you *#%!' I'm glad I spent the time researching it.

Knifey made up his mind, affiliating with the Scryers. After all, being able to jump down to avoid waiting for the lift is quite handy.

At last we encounter the Blood Angel, our current nemesis, bent on destroying the whole world. The cultists that summoned it all lie dead, circled around the Blood Angel, and a demon companion taunts us whilst throwing mystical balls of fiery energy towards us. Two of us engage the demon dogs, one keeps the demon companion occupied, and the others start attacking the Blood Angel.

With a bit of thought and a clear memory of how the monster was summoned and how to defeat it we realise we need to make use of the corpses in the room, and start to hack at them before striking the Blood Angel itself. Our attacks are wounding it, but he Blood Angel is not stupid. It moves, slowly crawling to manoeuvre itself on top of the dead summoners. As its great form passes over a corpse the body is absorbed immediately, leaving behind no trace. With it's movement comes an opportunity, and Dexter seizes it. 'I spy a clear line with which I can charge in to the fray!'

'Careful you don't trip', is returned as advice, but Dexter had not planned to charge the Blood Angel itself, preventing any stumbling from turning him in to the next cadaverous victim.

Despite our effective tactic, the corpses were being absorbed as quickly as we could move to a different one, and without any corpses our hope of victory would surely be lost. Trying to keep the Blood Angel at bay there was talk of snatching one of the corpses away to safety, with Tal's last ditch suggestion of 'grabbing one of the bodies and jumping out of the window at the back!'

'...in to the chasm? That's a little extreme, don't you think?'

'There's a chasm?' We clearly need more time to think, but the Blood Angel is not stopping. George has his twin blades drawn, but only one is ready to attack the Blood Angel, the other needs recoating.

Ann-See spots George getting ready to coat his weapon with his first action. 'No, hit the Blood Angel with the good weapon first, then you can decide what to do with your other action. Nothing is wasted this way!' George ruminates on this briefly before deciding that Ann-See's suggestion makes sense. He brings his blade around and thrusts it deep in to the Blood Angel.

George's first attack, the one that was going to be used on hitting a stationary object, gets a natural 20 on the die roll, which is confirmed for a critical hit! The extra damage caused by the critical hit is enough to stop the Blood Angel, and we watch as its life fades. Well, we assume the critical hit did enough damage to kill it, it could just have been the large amount of smugness emanating from Ann-See after her suggestion. Still, she may well have just saved the party, along with the world.

It takes a few hours of travel through overgrown terrain to get to the ancient temple of blood red clouds swirling ominously overhead, but thanks to Dexter's excellent survival abilities we don't get bogged down along the way. As we approach the courtyard we are impressed by the intricate design that went in to the architecture, where even the weathered and crumbling archways and walls display considerable detail. It is not often that we are witness to such mighty wonders presented before us.

Yes, the DM had generously taken time outside of the adventure to draw the final map on the battle-mat.

Moving through the main entrance our presence alerts some demon dogs, and some humanoids appear from out of a couple of tents in the courtyard. They are probably human, but despite all his knowledge Dexter finds he cannot recall useful information about them, so we just assume they have spleens to aim for. The Dretch demon dogs belch a toxic, opaque gas in to the courtyard, hindering efforts to enter battle, but it doesn't stop us completely.

Tal charges in to battle on his warhorse, running through one enemy with his lance before cleaving through to a second enemy who was unfortunate enough to be standing close by. Yes, he cleaved with a lance, that's how cool he is. He is apparently also so full of awesome that he called down a bolt of lightning from the sky in to the courtyard. It is only when the rest of us join in the fighting that we realise the truth, that some god is taking potshots at us whenever we strike a foe. Luckily, whoever is throwing the lightning around is capricious with his shots, or perhaps drunk, as the lightning sometimes hits our enemy as well as Dexter's poor horse.

Having found that we can call forth lightning by striking someone with our weapons we briefly consider running around with daggers to play deathmatch tag, stabbing each other for minimal damage and seeing who outlasts the lightning. However, with a Blood Angel to stop we are compelled to be a little more serious for now. Even so, the DM is feeling the strain of our antics, urging Tal to 'come and kill this final Dretch. I'm losing the will to live.'

Ann-See perks up hearing this, and is quick to reply, 'Really? Tal, wait another round!' Luckily for the DM, Tal is more keen to kill actively than passively, and the final Dretch is despatched to the sound of another crack of lightning. With no more enemies in the courtyard and a faint sound of chanting coming from inside the temple, perhaps part of a summoning process, we head up the steps to the main doors.

Heading towards the town that is our only remaining clue turns out to be a good omen. Well, perhaps not for the town itself, as it is almost completely on fire, but this seems like a good indication we're on the right track. With a couple of buildings not quite on fire yet we hustle towards them. The sound of panicked folk in a barracaded barn sets us in to motion to try to release them, but as we move closer to the barn we are interrupted by an evil cackle.

The town captain greets us from the other non-burning building, standing in the hayloft next to some guards. But there's something odd about the way they are standing. The town captain has an evil look on his face as he calls out to us, telling us that everyone is dead and there is nothing more we can do. It is at that point we realised what is wrong with the guards: they all have nooses around their necks! The turned captain pushes one to punctuate his speech and we are forced in to swift action.

A couple of quick bow shots don't manage to sever the rope holding the guard, but Tal is quick on his horse and supports the guard whilst he cuts the rope. As we spring in to action in this direction, Dexter heads over to the barn full of innocent townspeople, having seen it surrounded by flammable materials and with the heat of the burning buildings all around likely to be ignited. He begins cutting a hole in the side of the barn, as others engage the evil captain.

The battle looks heavily weighed against us, particularly with a weapon-dissolving demon as an ally to the captain, but Tal has an idea to even our chances. With a mighty swing of his falchion he strikes the captain's battle axe, sundering it in to many pieces. 'My weapon! You've destroyed my weapon!', cries the captain.

'Aww, what are you going to do about it? Hit me with your axe?' Tal laughs heartily as his falchion swings down again on the weapon-master-trained captain, now without his primary means of attack. The captain reaches to get a back-up weapon but without his axe he is significantly weakened. It is not long before he is defeated, and the efforts to rescue the people in nooses and peasants in the barn have saved all their lives.

One of the rescued guards lets us know what happened, with the captain gone mad and killing nearly all of his own guard and destroying the town after coming back from an ancient temple 'over in yonder direction, where the sky is full of whirling red clouds.'

Hey, let's head there next!

Midsummer celebrations comes to Azeroth, and Knifey finds bonfires and fire jugglers everywhere he goes. Interested in why people are throwing fire everywhere I ask the fire juggler in Ironforge what is going on, and he offers to give me some flowers if I manage to throw some of my own fire around. I light some braziers easily enough, but lose my eyebrows whilst learning to juggle fire. Being given a chunk of experience for doing so makes it worthwhile, particularly as I'm so close to hitting 60. I run out of Ironforge to Kharanos and honour the flame there. Not only does this cause the small sprite to grow in to an image of Ragnaros, giving me some other-characterly flashbacks, but it puts me a whisker away from level 60. I pop to Burning Steppes and kill a couple of dragonkin to push me over the edge. Ding!

It's not just honouring the Alliance flames that gains rewards, the loremaster hints at more riches awaiting anyone brave enough to defile the similar flames for Midsummer that the Horde have burning. Of course, these fires happen to be in Horde settlements, or more precisely in their capital cities. It won't be an easy task to defile the flames, but with Kinless showing how a stealthly druid can get the flames I am keen to put my stealth abilities to good use. My training for level 60 will help, as my rank in stealth improves. I head to the gryphon master and ask for a flight to the Plaguelands. My first stop is Undercity, home of the undead.

I ride through the Plaguelands in to Tirisfal Glades, along the outside wall of the fallen city of Lordaeron. As I approach the entrance to the ruins I jump off my mount and become stealthy. I have good intelligence on all of the Horde cities, as if I have visited them before, and know their layouts. What I don't fully know is where the fires are. As luck would have it, the fire for Undercity is in the ruined city's courtyard, meaning I don't even need to pass any city guards to get to it. City guards are only half the problem though, as there are undead revellers enjoying the festivities in their own hideous fashion. I tense up, seeing so many enemies before me, half of them considerably more powerful than me, and no doubt all of them wanting me dead if they knew I was there.

There is even a warlock running around randomly with his Felhunter minion, which is a worry. Felhunters offer a boost to stealth-detection, and it seems that this warlock is running around looking for hidden Alliance characters, like myself, ready to uncover them to prevent the fire from being defiled. I hide quietly in some bushes, hoping that he'll get tired soon and let me get closer to the fire. It is only after a couple of minutes that I realise he isn't running around randomly but is trying to juggle fire like I had done a little while ago. His Felhunter is probably just happy to be there, and I am being somewhat understandably paranoid. I edge closer to the Horde fire, and bide my time whilst a Tauren tries to light braziers. When he's finished I sneak over to the fire and start to defile it, which breaks my cover. I ensure that the fire is between me and the enemy, and once defiled I cloak myself in shadows again. One fire defiled! I sneak out of Undercity, PvP flag on for all to see, and ride back through the Plaguelands.

Being in the north of the Eastern Kingdoms I continue along my path towards Silvermoon City, capital of the Blood Elves. I heard from Kinless where the flame to be defiled is in the city, and start my stealthy approach once I get close enough, bolstered by my success in Undercity. Silvermoon City is rather more protective of its flame though, and there are plenty of guards to get past. After the opening of the Dark Portal, the guards of all major cities decided they should be better trained and gained 10 levels pretty quickly, making them all level 65, 5 levels above my current standing. Despite being able to distract one of the guards at the entrance to Silvermoon City he still heard me trying to sneak behind him and he started attacking, quickly calling for assistance in stopping the intruder. I managed to run in to the city itself before my feeble defences saw me fall.

My spirit appeared in a graveyard some distance away from the city and I started running back to my fallen body. It took a short while but I had time. Once close to my body I made sure I was far enough away for any guards to spot before reuniting flesh and soul, quickly slinking back in to the shadows and sneaking further in to the city. There were few guards further in, people quite rightly relying on the guards at the entrance to stop intruders. A large mechanical patroller was lumbering along ahead of me, and he could see through my stealth if I should get close enough. I was foolish in thinking I could rush around one side of a doorway while the sentinel went the other way, as it spied me and pounded large metal fists on to my head.

Another corpse run back to the city and I had another problem in the form of a Blood Elf wondering what a gnome's dead body was doing lying in the middle of Murder Row, and he wasn't going away until he had answers. I had little option anyway, as there were more guards just ahead, but at least I could see the flame just beyond them! I revived myself and made a frantic dash for the flame, getting stopped by guards one more time on my way to it. Running back as a spirit again I was able to wait for the right moment and live again, hide behind the bonfire, defile the flame, then use my hearthstone to escape that dangerous city. I ended up back in Shattrath City with my PvP flag on, but with neutral guards all around. Next stop, Orgrimmar.

Orgrimmar, capital city of orcs and trolls and headquarters for Thrall, has two entrances. I decide to take the side entrance with the hope that Thrall hasn't forseen my arrival and has stationed a whole garrison of troops there. Sadly, it only takes a couple of guards to stop a squishy rogue, although I manage to make it in to the city before I collapse. There are orc guards dotted throughout Orgrimmar, in more strategic places than in Silvermoon City too, making progress slow and painful. A few deaths later sees me standing behind the Orgrimmar bonfire, with some keen Horde eyes seemingly looking specifically for Alliance intruders. As I am waiting for my ability to Vanish to become available again a Night Elf appears to my side, defiles the flame, then disappears from view again. I am not the only one out on a daring adventure today. I take the cue, defile the Orgrimmar flame, then vanish from sight. Now to escape!

I can't return to Shattrath with my hearthstone this time, so I have to get out another way. I pick my way through a couple of guards, but it is not long before the guards' sense sniff out the gnome amongst them and I am running for my life again. I use Evasion and Sprint, running sidelong to protect my back and help against becoming dazed, but I am just running in to more guards as I escape others. Luckily, Orgrimmar is built on more than one level of rock and stone. The layout of the city can be a little confusing for newcomers, but as I have some curiously-complete knowledge of the city I keep a good sense of my surroundings as I run. I jump down from a ledge on to one roof then another, then on to the ground level before hiding between two shacks. By this point the guards have lost track of me, jumping not being part of their training apparently. I am able to hide in shadows again and recover my lost health.

The only disadvantage to my leaps to lower ground is that I find myself outside the bank and close to the auction house, the meeting ground of every Horde player outside of Shattrath City. My little gnome heart is pounding, with guards dotted all over the place, patrols wandering past every now and again, and the occasional General scanning the area. My one weapon at the moment is surprise; with just about everyone unaware of my presence I can move with some freedom. It would be far more difficult if anyone was actually looking for me. I time my movements between alleyways, gauge my distance from guards, and head towards the exit carefully. This time, because of my escape route, I am heading out of the main gate, which is guarded heavily. I know I won't get past the guards so I again activate Evasion and Sprint and make a break for it! With some skill and a dash of luck I find myself out in Durotar, hoping that the duelling Horde in their epic gear pay me no mind before I leave combat and Vanish once more. Three down, onwards to Thunder Bluff!

The journey to Mulgore is uneventful but full of gorgeous scenery. I head north through the plains towards the rising stone that carries the capital city of Tauren. As with Orgrimmar I choose to enter the city from the alternative entrance, knowing that there is one to the rear of Thunder Bluff. It is now that I realise I was lucky not to try the same with Undercity, for if I had entered that city by the sewers I would have had a much harder time than simply walking in the front door. The lift in to Thunder Bluff is unguarded, carrying me to the edge of the city. This time, with the city being perhaps the least populated of the Horde's, I decide stealth is a secondary option and stay on my mount for the increased speed. I ride past the two guards at the end of the lift platform, but one skillfully knocks me off my mount as I pass. I Vanish and find somewhere to hide to heal up and prepare my Vanish ability again.

I scout a little, working out my route to the bonfire on the Spirit Rise, realising I will have to run past two more guards at least in order to cross the rope bridge leading there. I mount up and race past the guards, making it half-way across the rope bridge before they give up chase and return to their posts. The way to the fire is clear and although I get some harsh looks from the Tauren revellers I am able to defile the fire without interruption, and this time I use my hearthstone to escape. No deaths from entering Thunder Bluff and I have all four fires defiled!

I head to Stormwind City and speak to the Midsummer loremaster at the Stormwind fire. He is increasingly excited as I hand over each flame, one at a time. With the final flame he presents me with a special reward for my brave accomplishment, a fiery crown. In one afternoon I entered all four Horde cities and returned to tell the tale.

Oh, and as well as getting the crown from the adventure, hitting 60 let me buy my swift ram from the Amberstill Ranch in Dun Morogh, having reached exalted status with Ironforge a couple of levels previously. My Stormwind pony has served me well, and now it can relax in an open stable.