Last night I had two toons that needed the new S.H.R.E.T.H quest. To start this quest it is necessary to first find, kill, and loot a �Shreth District Manager� (DM) who hangs out at random locations in the north drop area on heros isle. The looted item you are looking for is a �package�. Here is my story�..
So off I went with Acer, my level 58 battle chanter, no axe orb, just fire and dot attacks. The level 60 DM was finally found just NEast of the portal drop. He was wandering back and forth aimlessly, presumably muttering to himself about the current ice-rain weather conditions or perhaps tonight�s Shreth board meeting. He was dangerously close to a wild-eye�d Demented Warath. My attempts to pull the muttering manager were repeatedly thwarted by a flying cement block, the size of a refrigerator, and the weight of a Jersey barrier. So I buffed my armor, shined my weapon, and waited for my opportunity.
With all the determination and grace of a wandering drunk who has lost his keys. The DM finally headed away from the Demented Warath in a zig zag pattern. With each lumbering step he would swing his 40lb stainless steel, triple pronged, dual claws, the preferred weapon of the elite Zealot Class Tumeroks. When he turned west toward me I felt he had sealed his fate.
Standing on a small buff above him I opened with a psionic axe, quickly followed by a fire ball. My Soulslayer weapon gave me the accuracy assist I needed to land the fire ball, but the only the sand beyond him felt the impact of the twirling axe. On fire, and irritated the DM swiveled about to face me and suddenly lost the look I had mistaken for intoxication. He had a mission now � I had to die.
At 40 meters and incoming, I landed an explosion spell on him stripping an additional 800hp off his already dwindled 5,600. The fire attacks combined were pulling off additional ticks of about 80-120 every 5 seconds. However, I knew this would not be enough to stop him. On fire or not he was coming, and I could already see pale eyes canvassing my breast plate for a weakness in which he would sink his claws of death. In melee, my padded enchanter breastplate may as well be wet tissue paper protecting my vital organs.
He was less than 15 meters away and I quickly reevaluated my tactics. I switched to my defensive stance. I tried to tangle him in the soft sand of the dune he was climbing, only to realize in horror that I had missed. Now with two more bounding strides he was in melee range� fight or flee was the question�. the answer this time was to flee. Just as I spun about, I felt a blade ripping the side of my jacket just under my staff wielding arm, and I reeled away from the blow. Unknown to me there was a second claw on the other side that I unwittingly collided with in my flight. This second attack clearly was a distraction for what was about to come. The jacket ripping claw was already drawn back in preparation of a thrusting motion. With my back fully exposed and still attempting to take my first steps, the blade came forward between my 8th and 10th vertebrae completely crushing my 9th. I was paralyzed. 5 seconds later after a flurry of rapid penetrations in my skin, I felt life literally bleeding out of me. My flight consisted of one step�. I died right there in the wet desert sand. As I fell, my last request was to the great Asheron. �I have failed you sir � but if granted resurrection, I will not fail you again.�
LS �> PR to Ndrop�.. I was comin� back, with a vengeance.
The District Manager was barely done celebrating his victory over my corpse when I rode back over on my mystical tyrant mount. As before, he wandered with a deceiving stagger about the sandy plains. Dismounting and equipping my chanter adept Staff of Laming in one motion, I moved to the edge of a 60 meter range for my second assault.
This time my fireball and whipping mental axe landed with pin point precision. Even at 60 meters I could see the dual hit knock him off balance. By the time he turned to face me a flame bolt was on its way to complement the fire ball he was already contending with. In a full lumbering sprint he was coming at me. This time tangle did not miss. The sight of four winding limbs reaching thru the surface of the sand and entangling his legs to his waist filled me with confidence. In the next instant a lava like encasement surrounded his body and exploded in a three story mushroom cloud. Already 50 percent through his life�s essence, I let loose with a series of ranged flaming specials.
As his twin metal blades slashed the last of the tangling roots from his legs I was faced with the same question as before, of fight or flight�. This time I was staying. At 40 meters he made his final charge at me and a quick calculation of damage rate and speed, left me with the realization that he would reach me too soon for me to finish him. Landing a confuse spell on him as he approached allowed me to side step his advance and watch him stumble by.. I knew that the next fire dot tick would awake him from his daze, so I took this opportunity to regain my vigor for the final assault.
Only 8 meters away. I unleashed a fiery combo of spells. As the lava encasement of Explosion blew by me in fragments, I was able to peer thru the self imposed firestorm to see that my opponent was on his last breaths. With what little strength my foe had he made his final stand. Swift, but awkward the DM, daggered the front of my breastplate with his lethal claws cleaving me of nearly a third of my life. As he had no vigor to draw from I presumed that my next round of fire from hell would destroy him.
But all went quiet� the great Tumerok had been slain by an internal fire set by me a minute before. His last motions were a writhing collapse to the ground and painful gasp. Despite the weight and speed of his venomous claws there was no going out in glory for the mighty District Manager. He died like many lesser foes before him, succumbing to the ravages of internal fire.
I was determined not to let him take the secrets of the S.H.R.E.T.H to the grave. I rifled through his pack searching for what I needed. With package in hand I left his corpse to decay in the wet sand.