I really like playing Hearthstone. I think it’s a pretty great game and there are a lot of interesting mechanics. I mean, enjoy it so much that I’m starting up this blog so that I can write about it.

Well, that and so I can opine about whatever else I’m thinking about. People at work are tired of hearing me call Kevin Durant a pussy and listen to me giving them stock advice, so now I’m going to leak whatever’s on my mind out here for you to read.

All of that said, as much as I enjoy Hearthstone, there’s a least one interaction in the game each day that drives me to seriously re-consider my life decisions in terms of the time I spend playing this game. And, 99 percent of the time, that comes from the following cards. So, without any further ado, here are the top cards that are giving me a serious risk of dying of Hypernatremia.


I bring life and hope!

Excuse me?

You bring what?

You have the audacity to tell me that you bring hope? If by hope, you actually mean soul-crushing despair because I’m going to have Bloodmage Thalnos dropping ice lances onto my face next turn, then sure, that’s probably an accurate assessment of what’s coming down the pike.

I’ve never once felt good about seeing this card. Not in an arena draft, not on a stream and certainly not when I crafted it. Which, by the way, I still haven’t had a chance to use. I’ve been in the hospital for a few days after the excessive chafing I got from scrubbing myself in the shower trying to wipe away the dirty feeling I cursed myself with by adding this card to my collection.

This isn’t Dreamhack buddy, we’re playing the wild ladder and we’re both rank 17. If you wanted to play this game like a brainless trogg, pick some aggro deck and at least get the game over with in five turns.

Ancient Shieldbearer

Let me get one thing perfectly straight – the armor mechanic is absolutely the worst part about what is otherwise a great game. Nothing sucks the hope out of me more than going against a control warrior who has about 100 life and is piling on more, all the while my mouse inches closer to the concede button every turn as the game slips away. Sometimes though, sometimes I can SMOrc my way into a situation where its turn six and I have level the next turn. Yes boys, truly, these games make life worth living.

Until I think about it for a second and realize, oh shit, this guy has been buffing C’Thun this entire game. Then I hear it.

C’THUN SHELTERS US! That stupid, groundskeeper Willie sounding voice bookmarked by the sound of 10 armor getting slapped on to some asshole on the other side of the monitor who, no doubt, is just smirking away about what just happened.

That… was a mistake. Thanks C’Thun, I’m glad you’re here to remind me I should’ve just given up.


Justicar Trueheart

Welcome to the Grand Tournament, champion! Oh, there it is. My alarm to hit the concede button. I won’t be needing this game anymore.

And who are you calling champion anyway? Certainly not the cowardly warrior who’s going to start adding a giant stack of armor. And it’s double certainly not the guy who’s so far away from the game that’s already queueing up against another worthy opponent. So, my best guess is that she’s probably talking to herself, pepping herself up to step into the jousting arena. Which is fine I guess, but that still doesn’t stop me from hoping that that she takes a lance in the face from Nexus Champion Saraad. That gives me an idea about something else to write about, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Listen, I’m going to be straight about this. If I were playing some sort of tricky C’Thun deck, or maybe a freeze mage, or like… I don’t know, anything that’s not frantically top decking by turn nine, I might have a chance. But I don’t, and I don’t. God, fuck you Garrosh.

Darkshire Councilman

I genuinely can’t decide which one I dislike more:

  • The politicians we have to deal with in this country on a day to day basis. Congress has an eleven percent approval rating, so obviously, they’re pretty fucking terrible.


  • A fictional, low level city councilman from a small, fringe village. This isn’t some corrupt king or a final boss or someone with actual power. No, it’s a city councilman from some place that no one but a top tier nerd could point out on a map.

And then I think about when this card hits the board. I think about his stupid laugh. I think about the fact that next turn it’s going to turn into an unmanageable board presence and that I’m probably going to have to trade three cards into this stupid thing to kill it. I think about the only person stupider than me playing this game sitting on the other side of the screen just piling on one drops until he can pound me in the face with Leeroy.

Then I consider the fact that if I had to vote for this guy or Hillary Clinton, I’d probably still vote for the Darkshire Councilman. You’ve really got to give it to Blizzard that they were able to capture the spirit of the card so perfectly. They’re actually pretty on point with Darkshire in general, not only did they nail this card but they captured my weird fixation for weird, sexy librarians and cartoons who experiment with tentacles.


Listen, Flamestrike in and of itself isn’t that bad of a card. You can play around it. It’s late in the game, so it’s sometimes not entirely overpowered. You can choose to play minions with 5 or more health so they stick around after. You can even just avoid playing the board and use spells and hero powers to put some damage down. Lots of options. It’s not like there’s one in every deck, and even in the arena it’s becoming more and more rare.

At least, the first flamestrike isn’t that bad. Hell, even the second flamestrike isn’t that bad. It’s usually much less useful than the first.

But the third flamestrike?

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve said “well, I can’t play around a third flamestrike” and then summarily had my board wiped by some fucking dipshit who polymorhped a two drop earlier in this game, I’d have three of the several hundred dollars I need to buy a new laptop after I smashed mine getting a third flamestrike dropped on me.


I could make a very tasteful joke about cancer, but, instead, I’ll just take my most recent exchange playing a rank 18 Shaman.

Game: Trogg Rules!

Me: Okay this, isn’t so bad. That’s only a 1/3 and I have some time to take care of it. I mean, things really only get out of hand here if they have…

Game: *Lurching groan of an animated totem*

Me: Fine, this situation is bad, but I can find a way to play around this.

Game: *Gastly howling*

Me: For fucks sake. Two wolves? One wolf, fine, but two wolves? This is starting to get out of hand.


Me: Navigate to the Control Panel. Click on the Programs hyperlink. Locate the Programs and Features. Right Click Hearthstone. Uninstall. Then, for good measure, throw my phone in the garbage too.

Aldor Peacekeeper

I want to make things very clear – I follow the rules. I love the rules. I think the rules are the framework for our society and are what differentiate us from the filthy beasts of the animal kingdom. In the case of Hearthstone, the rules of the game state that I pay a certain amount of a finite resource and use that payment to make a change to a state of the game. Hypothetically, I could choose to spend 5 of my mana to summon a Corrupted Healbot. Sure, it heals my opponent for eight life, but it has a good stat line so I’m fine making that trade off.

That is, until, the Aldor Peacekeeper enters the game and decides that the rules don’t apply to him. Suddenly, he makes the rules. And like everyone that makes the rules, he gets drunk with power and completely shifts the game on its head.

Force tank max? More like force tank TRASH. Get it? Because the peacekeeper turned a strong card into literal garbage. Bog creeper? More like TRASH creeper? Get it? I turned a word into trash again. Comedy gold.

I have no idea what or where Aldor is, but rest assured, it could burn to the ground tomorrow and the first thing I would think is “Gee, I hope the Peacekeepers didn’t make it out alive”.

Knife Juggler

Take it away, Reynad!