So, you might be asking yourself, why on earth would anyone want to engage in the seemingly tedious task of crafting gems in Diablo IV? Well, dear reader, let me let you in on a secret: if you truly aspire to be the Warren Buffett of the Diablo world, then you should consider trading in your sword for a jeweler's loupe. Believe me, there's no thrill quite like charging some over-encumbered adventurer a cool 40,000 gold to transform their ragtag collection of 15 cracked diamonds into a modest 5 chipped diamonds. It's the Diablo equivalent of selling ice to Eskimos! To @molescat, my sincerest apologies. After having bankrupted myself on a gem-crafting spree, I've taken to selling all my blue items for cash and scrapping all my golden items just to make ends meet. Who knew I'd find myself running a virtual pawn shop in the bowels of Hell?
As with many misadventures in our digital playground, the infamous Rope Trap Incident began rather innocently. Zaph, in a rare bout of creativity, had laid a trap in the shape of a pentagon. Now, this wasn't just any pentagon - it was Zaph's pentagon, crafted with all the loving care and attention to detail one could expect from a demon-slaying, loot-hoarding adventurer who typically concerned himself with less geometrically complex tasks.
However, the trap, in all its mathematical elegance, was - how shall we say - a touch underwhelming. It possessed all the menacing aura of a cucumber at a vampire convention, so we naturally assumed that it belonged to our enemy - the shaman.
Such was the rope trap's convincing lameness that we mistook it for the shaman's summoning circle. It was an easy mistake to make, really. After all, in a world where a fire-breathing dragon is considered a Tuesday, a dull pentagonal trap could easily be mistaken for the handiwork of a malevolent, all-powerful sorcerer. It's like mistaking an orangutan for a space ship mechanic - unlikely, yes, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility given the right circumstances.
