Charize wanted to do Scholomance, the creepiest place in Azeroth, hands down. As soon as she mentioned it, I was already looking at Thottbot (this was the Dark Age before Wowhead) drooling over the Ancient Bone Bow. I needed that thing. It was shiny. I needed it like a gnome needs engineering goggles. Plus, I was already rocking the Black Dragonscale set Aramai made for me, looking like a total badass, and that bow would complete the look. I’m talking top-tier transmog vibes here.
So, into LFG we went. Charize, with her usual flair, posted her classic recruitment message:
“Looking for a tank for Scholomance—free cookies and hugs!”
Scholomance, for the uninitiated, is a death trap disguised as a necromancer’s university. It’s got it all: ghoul-infested hallways, undead necromancers, and enough dark magic to give you the shivers. Every room is a death trap, but hey, we had loot on our minds, and we weren’t going to let a few skeletons stop us.
After a few failed pings, Karathos of all people answers our call. Yes, the Karathos, one of the most famous PvP retribution paladins on our realm. No shield. Just pure, unfiltered DPS. This guy was basically a legend. Horde ran for the hills when they saw him, and now he was here to tank Scholomance with us. I was feeling pretty good about our chances. I mean, how hard could it be with the Karathos?
Charize whispers me: “We either just won WoW, or we’re going to be one hilarious pile of corpses.”
I respond: “Nah, we got this. Karathos is basically invincible, right?”
We step into Scholomance, and right from the first room, it’s clear we’re in for a ride. Charize is flinging frostbolts like she’s auditioning for a fireworks show, and I’m out here misdirecting mobs onto Karathos (because naturally, I pulled them). In party chat, the banter is flying:
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Karathos: “Lex, are you trying to kill me already?”
Me: “I thought you were unkillable, my bad!”
Charize: “Can confirm: paladins are not, in fact, invincible.”
Karathos: “Tell that to the scoreboard in Warsong Gulch, mage.”
We’re laughing, pulling mobs room by room, and surprisingly, we’re not dying. Karathos is holding his own despite having no shield, and I’m doing my best not to accidentally pull half the dungeon. Slowly but surely, we hack our way through the dungeon, Charize tossing out snarky remarks as she chain-sheeps necromancers left and right.
Me: “This bow is mine, I can feel it. Today’s the day!”
Charize: “If you say that one more time, I’m teleporting out and leaving you here.”
Room after room, we fight our way through the undead army, taking down necromancers and skeletal warlocks like a well-oiled machine. Karathos is smashing everything in his path with his giant two-hander while Charize and I provide backup, alternating between dps and screaming about aggro.
Finally, we make it to the final boss. The anticipation is killing me. My palms are sweaty. The Ancient Bone Bow is within my grasp! The boss drops to the floor, defeated. I rush to the loot window, eyes wide… and it’s not there. No bow. Just some random caster gear.
Me: “Of course. Why would my bow drop? It’s only been 50 runs.”
Charize: “I swear, this bow is going to be your undoing.”
Karathos: “Another day, another no-bow Lex.”
So, we left. But did I give up? No. I went back. Over and over. For 421 more runs.
That’s right. It took me a staggering 421 attempts before that bloody Ancient Bone Bow finally dropped. At this point, I was convinced Scholomance was trolling me personally.
Me: “You won’t believe it, Char, I FINALLY got it!”
Charize: “About time. Azeroth is tired of hearing you cry about that bow.”
I still have the bow to this day, proudly displayed in my bank because, after 421 tries, you bet I’m never getting rid of it. It’s less of a weapon and more of a monument to stubborn persistence.