Garrison Schmarrison

Okay. Today, I reinforced the fact that I may possibly have brain damage.

That is the only way to explain the terrible lapse in judgement that lead me to sign up for Garrison again.

For some reason it sounded like a good idea at the time. It really did.

Visit far off outposts. Meet new people. Make money.

I mean, that sounds like a deal, right?

Right?

So, I convince Shaman and Pathfinder to come with me, and get ready to get my butt handed to me again.

At least if I'm going to die, I get to take Shaman and Pathfinder with me.

I mean, what are friends for?

We were waiting to warp to the Valkurm, when the other goblins start shouting about a change.

Being the honorable guy that I am, I was about to trip Pathfinder and take off running to save myself, when I heard it.

It was beautiful.

GoblinLeecher>> Big change guys.
GoblinLeecher>> We're doing the level 75 Garrison.

Oh yeah, baby. That's how Smithy rolls.

They split us up into groups and start hitting us with buffs. Shaman gets upgraded to a Goblin Professor and Pathfinder changes jobs to a Goblin Pirate.

GoblinPirate>> Arrrrrrrgg, Mateys. I'm a pirate!
GoblinSmithy>> You're an idiot.
GoblinPirate>> Hey, look!
GoblinPirate>> A plank!
GoblinSmithy>> Go fall on something pointy.

I was hoping he'd be a Goblin Corpse, but sadly, no luck.

But then something weird happened. The guys got warped to the outpost.

Without me.

I swear if I miss Pathfinder getting murdered, I'm going to be pissed.

Then, suddenly, I felt my body rush with power. My muscles started to pulse with electricity.

And not electricity like Thundaga III. Believe you me, that feels a hell of a lot different.

I looked up and saw my new name. Honestly, I couldn't help but smile.

Goblin Boss

Damn straight.

Just as I'm asking myself if this could get any better, I get warped over to the outpost.

Ninja>> Hold them back, guys.
Ninja>> We're doing okay.
RedMage>> Keep provoking!
BlackMage>> Watch the NPCs.

There was a huge group of adventurers swarming around Shaman and Pathfinder.

I would have waited for them to both die, but I was in a stabbing mood.

And then they saw me.

WhiteMage>> Sweet merciful christ!
RedMage>> WE'RE DEAD!
Thief>> Oh my GAWD!
Ninja>> What the hell is that?
GoblinBoss>> TONY DANZA, BITCHES!

They weren't ready for me. I cut through their ranks like a hot knife through torso.

Dead adventurers fell in piles around my feet. Big piles.

Big, stupid piles.

Everything was perfect. Everything.

And then I saw one little Dragoon all by himself. One last little Elvaan between me and victory.

I wonder if Wyverns taste like chicken...

I was just about to nerf his lungs with my sword when I heard a low rumble.

A low rumble that was getting louder.

Much louder.

And then 18 freakin' NPCs came over a sand dune. 18 blood thirsty level 75 NPCs.

Things got blurry (read: painful) after that.

If I ever agree to do Garrison again, I want someone to hold me underwater until I stop kicking.

I hate Garrison.