Sing, O goddess, the wrath of the Paladin, wicked mindchild of Blizzard North, that brought countless deaths on creatures and nerds alike.

Many were his names; the mighty Hammerdin - All time mr-one-trick-pony. Zealot, tesladin and the Smiter, breakers of ÜD and Tristram alike. Despised by many, hated by some and loved by most.
I bid you a final farewell, adieu, auf wiedersehen, rad tebya videt and farvel.

You were the favored class of the mindless bots for a reason. Only in the final years of your existence were you met with creatures beyond the grief dealt by your twirling hammers, and still you came on.
You were experimented upon like few others, spat upon, frowned upon and counted upon.

I remember our first meeting well, the first class that drew my eye, back in Y2K, the platform of our meeting came to pass the day before my twentysecond trip around the sun came to an end. Back then you were young, untried, untested and a bit rough around the edges. The years have gone by, still I fly around that old sun, passing some time now and then, in your company. But on the morrow it ends, for now. In just over a full day the next generation of 1s and 0s will enter the arena, and you will be forgotten, atleast for a while.
For like the phoenix I suspect you will rise from the ashes, when your makers deem the time has come to lure us unfaithfulls back to the herd of mindless, undemanding, unchallenging and unworthy cattle. On that day I will rejoice in our reunion.

Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Awww... Brought a tear to me eye, that did.

That was beautiful.

Here comes D3: The king is dead; long live the kIng!