"This time, I'm checking the dispel stats. Whoever finishes last and doesn't reach sixty percent of the top dispeller loses the right to bid on this boss's loot."
"And if you don't dispel at all, you're not getting any DKP for this boss."
Lucifron was a dispel check. Handle the debuffs properly and the fight became much easier.
Molten Core had several more bosses where dispels mattered just as much, if not more. Gabryell had no intention of letting people get into the habit of slacking just because somebody else could clean up after them.
He had not applied the sixty-percent rule to DPS yet. For now, he was testing it with dispel numbers first.
Nobody wanted to finish last and lose loot rights, so on the next pull, they attacked the raid frames like their lives depended on it without Gabryell having to remind them.
"Good. Much faster."
He was satisfied with the improvement.
"Once the curses are clear, Mages switch straight back to the Protectors. Dispelling doesn't mean you get to sit there doing nothing."
The physical DPS had improved considerably with consumables, but they still could not burn down the Flamewaker Protectors quickly enough on their own. The Mages' damage mattered too much.
"All Innervates from the Resto Druids go to Priests. Luna, yours goes to Snowy. Mushy, give yours to Heals. Rosy, use yours wherever you think it's needed."
The Priests were under far more mana pressure than the Resto Druids. Five of them had to clear magic debuffs, deal with mind controls, and keep the raid alive at the same time. Their mana bars were draining frighteningly fast.
"Those five stacks of Major Mana Potions I handed out aren't there to rot in your bags. Don't hoard them—use them on cooldown."
"If Impending Doom goes off on you and you can use a Major Healing Potion, pop one. Take some pressure off the healers."
If your gear was not good enough, you made up the difference with consumables.
Against Lucifron, all the potions Gabryell had spent a fortune stockpiling were finally earning their keep. With everyone using them properly, the raid's overall performance had improved by at least fifty percent.
"Seven, take one more step toward that left cave entrance and I'm docking you a hundred DKP!"
Gabryell saw him drifting dangerously close and snapped, "Get the hell back here!"
The Flame Imps outside the left entrance had already respawned. Those things came back ridiculously fast, sometimes only a few minutes after being killed.
Plenty of raids wiped on Lucifron because nobody noticed the imps were back. One person wandered too close to the entrance, dragged them into the boss fight, and everything went to hell.
Startled by the shout, OldSeven immediately Blinked to the right.
"Holy shit!"
Of course he did.
Out of every possible place he could have Blinked, OldSeven landed right in front of Lucifron and ate a Cleave that erased two-thirds of his health.
He panic-cast Ice Block on the spot.
"Hahaha! Seven, you're so bad! You almost died again."
"Damn, Seven. Who knew Mages could tank?"
OldSeven was basically the raid's comic relief. If something stupid and unexpected was going to happen, odds were it would happen to him.
"Carlos, turn the boss away a little."
Gabryell did not want OldSeven's Ice Block to end just in time for another Cleave to finish the job.
Carlos shifted Lucifron away from him, saving what little remained of OldSeven's dignity—and his life.
"Everyone watch the left entrance. The imps have respawned. Stay away from it and don't pull them into the fight."
After narrowly surviving yet another disaster, OldSeven finally stopped screwing around and returned to the group.
For all his stupidity, his damage was actually excellent. He was already fully geared in pre-raid dungeon gear, and even with the Floor King title hanging over his head, he was still third on the damage meter.
Gabryell was first, Coldhands second, and OldSeven third. Mages occupied every position from fourth through ninth as well.
The only melee player in the top ten was DeathScum.
Of course, a lot of that came from AoE damage. There was a reason GDKP runs did not take the early damage rankings too seriously and recalculated things after the second boss and the bridge.
"Next raid, I'm bringing a hundred Limited Invulnerability Potions."
OldSeven was still shaken from nearly getting himself killed again. He had already decided his first stop before the next raid would be the Auction House.
Coldhands landed a crit of his own.
"You're broke."
OldSeven immediately deflated.
Right.
He was broke.
He had barely more than ten gold left to his name.
He was probably the poorest Mage in the entire game.
The physical DPS consumables were clearly paying off. The first Flamewaker Protector died almost a full minute faster than it had on the previous pull.
The moment it dropped, Gabryell called, "Switch! Get on the other Protector. Once this one dies, the boss is basically free."
The raid was in far better shape this time. Nobody had died, and as long as they kept things under control, Lucifron was looking very killable.
"Whoa. I think the Protector dropped something."
Apparently, one of the melee had accidentally looted the first Flamewaker Protector after it died.
The adds accompanying Molten Core bosses still counted as trash, so they could drop from the same loot table as the rest of the trash mobs.
Gabryell had no intention of letting forty people run over to inspect the corpse in the middle of the fight.
"Forget the loot. Kill the boss. We'll check it afterward."
Nobody argued.
If anything, curiosity made them hit even harder. The second Flamewaker Protector did not last much longer.
"Boss now. Priests, stay on Dispel Magic. Resto Druids, stop decursing and help the Paladins keep Egides topped. Mages, healers and Egides get curse priority. If you get cursed, Ice Block it off if you can. Everyone else can wait a little if we're backed up."
With both Protectors dead, Lucifron was nowhere near as dangerous.
He did not enrage, so as long as Carlos stayed alive and the healers still had mana, they could grind him down at their own pace.
The dangerous part was over.
Gabryell finally relaxed enough to lighten the mood.
"Alright. Take a guess. Which class set do you think he's dropping?"
"Mage, obviously," OldSeven declared. "Mages are unbeatable."
With a mouth like that, he was going to get himself killed for real one of these days.
The rest of the raid immediately started calling their own classes in raid chat.
Gabryell was nowhere near as confident.
This lockout had been cursed so far. He was genuinely afraid Lucifron's corpse was going to cough up nothing but Felheart and Cenarion.
Maybe he should let Lunatori loot the boss and try to change their luck?
He thought about it, then immediately dismissed the idea.
Better to save Lunatori's luck for Garr and Baron Geddon. Those were the bosses where he really wanted it.
If either one of them dropped an orange item, then no matter what garbage came from every other boss in Molten Core, the entire run would still count as lucky.
"Seven, you've blood-sacrificed yourself enough times already. I'll give you a chance to prove you're useful. You're looting this boss."
What else was OldSeven good for?
Naturally, he was the raid's professional scapegoat.
Gabryell decided to give him a chance to redeem himself.
"If you pull something good, I'll pay for your Limited Invulnerability Potions myself. As many as you need."
OldSeven immediately perked up.
"And if the loot sucks?"
"Then it proves all those blood sacrifices of yours were completely useless."
Before Gabryell could continue, Coldhands cut in.
"If the loot sucks, make Seven sing 'My Heart Will Go On' for us."
Coldhands had apparently been listening to that song a lot lately and had become hopelessly addicted to it.
OldSeven paused.
"You guys sure? If the loot sucks, you really want me to sing?"
"Absolutely," Coldhands replied.
OldSeven suddenly started laughing.
"Alright. Then I'll loot it."
"Holy shit, no!"
DesertWanderer suddenly spoke up.
"Most people sing for money. OldSeven sings for lives. If the loot sucks, everybody should probably take off their headphones first."
That only made everyone more curious.
Just how horrible did somebody have to sound before his singing became a raid mechanic?
"Hahaha! You're all dead, then. I'm looting it."
Lucifron still had two percent health when OldSeven lost his patience and Blinked straight toward him.
A moment later, Gabryell covered his face.
OldSeven had gotten cocky again.
He had Blinked directly into the boss's face.
This time, his luck finally ran out.
Lucifron landed a critical hit and dropped him in one blow.
Now that was a blood sacrifice.
This loot had better be good.
"From now on, Seven is banned from randomly using Blink in dungeons."
His Blink was cursed.
Almost every time he used it, he ended up dead.
At this point, hitting Blink was basically buying himself a one-way ticket straight to hell.
The raid finished off Lucifron, and one of the healers immediately rezzed OldSeven.
After contributing yet another blood sacrifice to the run, he walked up to the corpse brimming with confidence and looted it.
The moment the gold loot message appeared in chat, Gabryell rushed over to see what had dropped.
Please.
Anything but Felheart and Cenarion again.
...
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