Friday, January 22, 2010

Sob Beger and the Bilver Sullet Band, Ladies and Gents

Applause drifts out of the Slaughtered Lamb as Fulguralis walks by, catching his attention.  He had just ported to Stormwind for a quick stop at the Auction House.  Any good warlock knows to keep himself well stocked with Flasks of the Frost Wyrm.  A catchy rock beat follows quickly on the heels of the applause, causing Fulguralis to raise his eyebrows in surprise.  The warlock hangout was not known for having live entertainment.  Perhaps a band from the Undercity, the Warlock muses.

It had been a long couple days, so Fulguralis decides he can spare some time for a mug of ale and a seat at the bar.  Music will be a welcome bonus.  He wanders in to find only a handful of grizzly patrons seated sporadically throughout.  It's a heavier crowd than normal, but hardly standing room only.  As is common in the Slaughtered Lamb, minions wander hither and fro, bringing their masters mugs filled to the brim.  Bar maids are unnecessary, yet a few wander around the room, chatting with customers and yelping every time one gets grabby.

"Dwarven Stout," Fulguralis says to the barkeep.  He eyes the band as the lights dim and a lone, mellow sound comes out of a strange horn in the hands of one of the musicians...

In a large and lonesome Citadel
Northwest of Dalaran
You can listen to the Lich King
Fixin' to kill you 'crossed the land
You think about the woman
Or the girl you knew in Sratholme.


But your spells will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're raidin' sixteen hours
And there's no time out for booze
And you don't feel much like raidin',
You just wish this Lich was through

Here I am
Atop the charts again
There I am
Better build up that rage
Here I go
Playin' 'lock again
There I go
Burn the mage

Well you zone into a battleground,
Decked out in your raid gear
And you feel the aggro on you
As you're takin' off your tier
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to Howl with Fear

Most times you can't see 'em cloaked,
Other times you know
All the same old cliches,
"Is that a druid or a rogue?"
And you always seem outnumbered,
You don't dare defend alone

Here I am
Atop the charts again
There I am
Better not dump that rage
Here I go
Playin' 'lock again
There I go
Burn the mage

Out there in the old world
You're a million miles away
Every quest in Kalimdor
You try to find a way
As the shadow pours out your body
Like the Soul that you Drain

Later in the evening
As you stand against the wall
With the echoes of Lord Bolivar
Ringin' through the hall
You burn your three minute cooldown,
Causin' your aggro to fall

Here I am
Atop the charts again
There I am
Better build up that rage
Here I go
Playin' 'lock again
There I go
Burn the mage
Oh, Here I am
On your Omen again
There I am
Please drop Consecrate
Here I go
Playin' 'lock again
There I go
Burn that mage

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