With Halloween fast approaching, I have a special treat for you all today! Instead of the regularly scheduled questions, I bring to you a tale—a tale of untold Heroes horror as one man fights to earn favor...
The Raven
Adapted by DrmDestryr
Once upon a game time query, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious hero of past Blizzard lore,
While I p’rused them, nearly picking, suddenly there came a whisp’ring,
It was someone gently asking, wanting me to be their four.
'Tis some friend of yore,' I muttered, `wanting me to be their four -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember I was an Alpha contender,
And each separate fighting hero wrought its pose while in the core.
Eagerly I planned my player; - vainly I had sought the slayer
From my free to play list they swore - swore to make free Raynor -
But the rare and radiant marine whom the Devs had named Raynor -
Blacked out here for one week more.
And the still dark bleak curtained shading of features darkened
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I whispered repeating
'Just some friend entreating join him in his group of four -
Some old friend entreating join him in his group of four; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'Yes,' typed I, 'RoxPenoR, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was drafting, and so gently you came asking,
And so faintly you came asking, asking me to be your four,
That I scarce was sure I read you' - here I accepted as four; -
Not five there, just us as four.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stared there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the team was all broken, with the damage not awoken,
And my only word there spoken was the whispered word, 'Raynor!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, 'Raynor!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the Heroes choosing, all my soul within me losing,
Soon again I sought a strapping hero harmful like Raynor.
'Surely,' said I, `surely there is some Hero I can play precise;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis Tychus I know for sure!'
Open here I clicked this marine, when, with a single object quite obscene,
Up he stepped a portly vision of my preteen days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of tank or banshee, standing upon my Heroes core -
Perched up front a pose of malice just above my Heroes core -
Perched, and posed, ready for gore.
Then this purplish bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
On a gate with stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
'Gather tribute do not waver, and,' it said, 'earn my high favor.
Talent ha! that seems generous playing in my haunted moor -
Tell me what thy build is, chosen against the enemy in my moor!'
Quoth the raven, 'Earn favor.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Since its answer held such meaning – so much relevancy bore;
For I cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with hearing bird insult his game time score -
Bird or beast perched on fence or gate insult my game time score,
With such quest as 'Earn favor.'
But my Tychus, standing lonely in the middle lane, spoke only,
That one phrase, as if his soul in that one phrase he did outpour.
Nothing further did he utter - not a stepping did he stutter -
Till I scarcely moved then muttered `Other friends have killed before -
On the tribute I will fell one, as I had first kill before.'
Then the bird said, 'Earn favor.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
'Doubtless,' said I, 'what it utters is truth—at stake our score,
Earned from some unhappy battle where we shall cause them rattle
Followed fast and followed faster by total slaughter of war -
Till the dirges of their hope of winning this token of war
Of "Earn-earn favor."’
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled Commandeer Odin in front of the spawning floor;
Then, upon the velvet twinkling, I betook myself to blinking
The map with my pinging, thinking that this would call my team for’ -
With this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, bright token my team for’
Still it croaking 'Earn favor.'
This I sat engaged defending, but no teammate offending
At the spot whose fiery face now floated o’er its circled core;
This and more I sat o’erkilling, my run and gun e’er so thrilling
So much enemies’ blood spilling that Raven Lord gloated o'er,
But who’s here to aid me causing the Raven Lord to gloat o'er,
I shall press and earn favor!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, sullied by an unseen laser
Aimed by Nova’s gun whose foot-falls tinkled naught the grassy floor.
'Wretch,' I cried, 'thy team hath lent thee - by these tributes they have sent thee
Alone - alone and unprotected to level up your score!
Quaff, oh quaff these hot bullets, and forget upping your score!'
Quoth the raven, 'Earn favor.'
'Nova!' said I, 'thing of evil! - Nova still, cloaked for retrieval! -
Whether en’my sent, or whether solo came thee here afore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this raven land so wanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Are you – are you here of your accord? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, 'Earn favor.'
'Tychus!' said she, `thing of evil! - Tychus still, if man or devil!
By that Precision Strike above you - by that Lord we both abhor -
Tell this snipe with vengeance laden if, within the distant forest,
Comes your team to save a Tychus whom I will slaughter encore -
Do they come to save a Tychus, whom I will slaughter encore?'
Quoth the raven, 'Earn favor.'
'Be that warning of your parting, foe or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
'Get thee back into the tempest and your gates and towers once more!
Leave no corpse here as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my killing streak unbroken! - quit the area you boar!
Aim thy rifle off my heart, and take to flight from here you boar!'
Quoth the raven, 'Earn favor.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On a gate with stern decorum of the countenance it wore;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And laser-light o'er me streaming blows my body ‘cross the floor;
And I watch her through that shadow screen still focused on the whore
And I see her – Earn favor!
Ask DrmDestryr is your weekly Q&A/advice column for Heroes of the Storm. Have a question for DrmDestryr? E-mail her your mental musings at drmdestryr@gmail.com or send happy twoughts her way @DrmDestryr.