Frenzy

We all have those times where things are plugging along like normal, then the stars align and you pull off a feat worthy of the gods. I had my moment the other night, while defending Zimmeron’s Hold in Chaos Wastes. I was only there to waste time while waiting for scenarios to pop. While waiting, I was popping in and out of the keep door to damage the attackers then get back inside before dying.

After a while I ran up onto the wall to gain a better look at the attacking force. They had a full warband, perhaps a few more. While casting Pit of Shades on the attackers near the ram during a period of casual boredom, the Scenario finally popped. I knew I could run away and hope to get out of combat to be able to enter, but that always takes too long.

So I leapt off the wall and ran straight at the Order force. Luckily for me, my guild mate Gool was in the area healing me. The zerg was fairly clueless, with only a tank or two on the door, and the rest clumped together a little over 100 feet away. It was into this clump I ran, casting every spell I had. I silenced the largest cluster of casters I could find and disarmed a slayer.

They started dying by twos and threes when I popped Focused Mind and spammed Shattered Shadows. The crits were flying up all over, for 2.4k from SS and other various amounts from all the other spells I was frantically casting. For some reason, I kept killing them, and stayed alive with one lone Shaman on the walls healing me. After a well placed root and a few more AE attacks of various types, the majority of the warband was dead, and the rest were running.

By this time, some of the Destruction players from the Keep had joined in and helped me chase down the remaining few that had survived my one man onslaught. This was one of those times where I wish Fraps had been running. I must give credit where credit is due, a Shaman and I had wiped an entire Order warband.

Praag Push

Last night in Praag was interesting and fun. We set up two groups to be powerful Scenario groups and were having fun with that for a couple of hours. Eventually, we decided to try and stop the Praag flip by bouncing between BO’s. We hit the north one and were wiped right away. We then headed south where we fared better. Predictably, well over a warband of Order showed up shortly after the cap. With our two groups plus Joanas group, we managed to destroy all Order as they arrived.

After a quick stop at the Manor, we went to the middle BO hoping for a good skirmish. What we found was a swarm of Order sprawled across the platform and spilling off onto either side. We engaged and killed quite a few by coordinating morales, but finally succumbed to their numbers. Glad for the fight, we respawned and went after them again. This time, there were a few more groups of Destro with us, so we fared better.

At one point, there was a mass of Order against a slightly smaller mass of Destro. To our credit, we pushed Order back inch by inch from our Warcamp all the way to the middle BO, then beyond to their Warcamp. It was a furious fight with morale bombing, rifting, rez racing, and irritating knockbacks. If we can recreate that on a nightly basis, perhaps we’ll lose less people to attrition.

Squiggi's Saga

Most of our members are attentive and responsive, but a few suffer from some chemically induced intelligence suppression. The most noteworthy of these characters is Squiggi, who conveniently screws up or asks silly questions at the most unexpected times. A few times while driving on the way to work I’ve busted out laughing at a memory of something he’s done. Most of it is of the type where ‘you just had to be there’, but I’ll tell the stories anyway.

The first time I realized he was a bit (perma)stoned was during an ORVR session that took place in Praag. This was one of those battles that lasts for a half hour of frantic warband leapfrog in attempt to keep all the Objectives defended and hold off the Order force. When the time was short and the flip close, we all knew we had to rush to Kadrin Valley as fast as possible to stop the zone from flipping in favor of Order. The momentum was intense, Praag flipped, and we all headed to KV with barely seconds to spare to capture the flag after killing the last few Order stragglers. So the flag was capped and we all sat there taking a quick break. Ventrilo quieted down after the frenzy of talking during the last 45 minutes. After a minute or two of silence, a barely audible voice squeaks something. We all tell the guy to turn up his volume, and in return get another series of squeaks, this time no louder. So I turn up his volume from my end and ask him what he said.

“When is Praag gonna flip guys, I’m bored.” He states in a quiet voice, drawing out every word carefully so he’s understood. I think my laughing made him feel bad.

Frequently in Lost Vale, he gets lost while returning to whatever boss we’re currently running back to after dying. The other day, I noted that an overlooking cliff that was almost to the spider boss was directly above the crocodile boss, the zone had wrapped back toward the beginning. Squiggi’s innocent curiosity leads him right up to the edge and over, followed by stunned silence. “Shit guys, I think I fell off the edge.” He squeaks. At the same time I want to smack him, I can’t help but feel sorry for him by the tone of his voice. He is crestfallen and apologetic, and the mix makes me burst out laughing. There’s no other response

The Making of Macabre

Some say the Druchii feel no fear. The rumor is defended by all dark elves across Naggarond and thus it thrives unchecked like untamed weeds in a garden. Each of us knows that there are times when we do feel fear, however. In the back of my mind I know each successive step I take up the long staircase brings me closer to an episode of such fear. How can it be helped! At the end of these stairs and through a set of doors sits the Witch King, Malekith himself. My ruthless service to the Vaulkhar of Har Ganeth was outstanding enough to allow me an audience with the Witch King. I was here to propose the creation of a guild of warriors to include the most fearsome chaos champion I could find, and a greenskin with half a brain, if one existed. My reasoning for wanting to acquire such companions was my own, but I had confidence the plan would work if only I could execute it without fear of being hunted by my own people.

I ascended the stairs and pushed tentatively through an unguarded pair of doors into utter darkness. Upon passing the threshold, my gut clenched into a knot and my thoughts attempted to scatter. I’d known of the effects of the Witch King’s presence for some time, but the experience felt more personal and real than I could have imagined. It was as if there were a looming crisis that would forever ruin my life, but I was drugged and couldn’t remember what to do to prevent it. The feeling ate away at me as I walked further into the darkness.

“Ferenczi of Har Ganeth, make this brief,” grated a voice like a basket of rocks, coming from below a pair of blazing orbs a dozen feet away. The fiery red lights flickered and reflected off various parts of the Witch Kings armor from a few feet lower, presumably his armor. Nothing else was visible.

“Lord, I’m here to ask for...” I started, forgetting the words I’d rehearsed countless times. “immunity from persecution…” I continued, “for enlisting the aid of outsiders who share our common goal.” Once spoken, the request really sounded like a stupid person trying to sound smart. Cursing silently at the thought, I clenched my jaw.

“Outsiders?” he asked immediately.

“Yes, my lord, if there are any worthy of helping our agenda. There are some chosen of chaos, who if persuaded to join me, could lend much strength to my task force,” I explained. This task force was to be sent as a forward expedition into the inner territories of Ulthuan to capture strategic keeps and choke points for the coming invasion.

“The chaos warriors are volatile and follow their own desires. Yet, I’ll stay my hand from persecution if you’re able to keep your Chosen one in check. At the slightest mishap, however, and this choice will be your reckoning,” he grated, his blazing eyes seeming to grow in intensity, unwavering.

“Thank you,” I replied quickly, “and critical to the success of my plans is a greenskin, of no particular type, who possesses the capacity and will to hold sway over his kin, so that I may use their greater numbers.” This was the riskiest part of my proposition, though I held his glare with confidence. He sat back in his throne and deliberated for a moment.

“It’s a foolish game you play, sorcerer, and one that could spell your doom,” he started, “and I will not sign off on such a plan if it’s to be lead by a weakling!” he said as his eyes flared up again. For the first time, I noticed extremely small symbols in the furnace of his eyes. “If at any point you falter to take a keep as ordered, or are discovered in your movements within Ulthuan, you life will be forfeit.” he continued. The symbols within his eyes flared up in time to the beating of my heart. They were curious indeed!

“Y-yes, my Lord!” I stammered, trying to regain control of my thoughts as I considered the function of those ocular runes. They were arranged in such as way… it seemed as though they could perhaps be a source of the Witch King’s power. Malekith then replied, but his words were little more than background noise as I intensely studied the runes.

Being a Sorcerer of no little renown, I could see the pattern of a woven spell within those blazing orbs. The runes were so intricately laid, and even smaller ones yet were hidden between those I’d originally seen. Laid in such a manner, one would gain immense power if they could duplicate the arrangement. It was brilliant, genius even! I’d leaned close, intent on deciphering their workings. My eyes traced the patterns and my mind whirled at their meaning, time slowed to a crawl. The runes were layered, smaller and smaller toward the middle, in ever increasing complexity. My brain worked faster and faster as I started piecing the puzzle together. Then the piece in the middle would mean…

Wait! My subconscious screamed. I’d seen this pattern before, somewhere. A flickered image of a small round talisman tore my thoughts away.

This was a trap!

The world snapped back, but was now out of focus. I was inches from the Witch King’s face, with all my will urging my body to pull away. He radiated an intense cold, and for the second time in my life, I knew fear. Deep, unbridled, knee-jerk fear. My will was weak, as though I’d just eaten an entire Black Lotus plant, and my thoughts were clouded. Our eyes were still locked, my insides started to burn as though I’d consumed acid. Like being hung over a pit of flames by the ankles, it seemed every inch of me was being pulled into the King’s glaring, hateful eyes. My skin crawled and felt as if it were being stretched like fabric, pulled inexorably forward.

Malekith’s words rang in my head....”lead by a weakling!” and I realized this was no trap, but a test. I focused my mind as I’d done so many times in the past and urged my eyes closed. Like the popping of a beastman’s bladder, the world around me snapped into sensibility, the cloud upon my thoughts evaporated. I reopened my eyes to find myself somehow at the bottom of the Witch King’s tower, facing outwards towards the exit. Growling with a mixture of exhaustion and achievement, I stalked toward the stables to find Pimples, my Nauglir, and head off toward the lands of Norsca.

The Idiot Elite

After burning a high ranking door down within minutes and trampling overtop a horde of Order to swiftly kill the Keep Lord, many voices asked the question in region chat where we should all head. Splitting our forces would accomplish multiple objectives at once, but it’s always the case that when we split forces, many people feel it’s a good time to go to bed.

After asking a few scouts in various zones, it seemed the best target for an established zerg to hit would be the rank 7 keep in Thunder Mountain. I offered the target in region and called the target for my warband. Unfortunately, a few minutes later, a different warband leader called for everyone to move to Dragonwake.

I have no problem with following other leaders directives, since cooperation is more important than calling for an attack against the most strategic target. But in this case, perhaps in haste, I’d called a target already in region chat for the zerg. I would take it back if I could, since now with competing directives, people will get frustrated and log off. Likewise, those that go to each zone will be less numerous and therefore less effective, and will follow suit and promptly log off as well.

So as it turned out, we instantly lost a good number of Destruction in Tier 4 RVR. Those that stayed flew to their corresponding warband’s objectives. My warband had the assistance of another, thanks Majorin, and we made it to the inner door of the rank 7 keep in Thunder Mountain. Unfortunately, just enough Order showed up to fend us off, and we had to retreat. The retreat further reduced our force, and we were down so far in numbers that keeps were no longer on the menu, we could only succeed versus BO’s.

The entire time, I’d watched the Dragonwake population to monitor the other warband’s progress. They never had more than a half warband, 11 people, and only managed to skirmish a bit until their numbers also died off. The next time multiple warband leaders call multiple targets and a haze of confusion manifests in region chat, everyone who cares about faction progress need to realize that unity is our most powerful weapon. It should be urged in the strongest possible sense for everyone to work toward one goal, and only split forces if it’s strategically advantageous. The lone voice calling out in solid caps for all leaders to discuss and decide upon a single next target would be, at that moment in time, the most powerful player on the server. I await his arrival.

I really want to reach through the screen and choke the snot out of people who are power drunk and think that by being a warband leader and calling targets they are popular and powerful. In reality the reason they call a target isn’t for a strategic purpose, but for the simple sake of continuing to call targets. Most can cite a half baked reason for calling an attack on non-strategic targets, which is nothing more than confirmation bias style reasoning.

Most nights, the series of events that propel me into a leadership role starts with me going solo looking for duels in the RVR lakes. After a time, guild mates will invite me to a warband, or ask me to start one. Since I’m the guild leader, I’m promoted to warband leader and asked where to go. Any glory or pride gained by this leadership position is far outweighed by the criticism and blame that is given in the event of each and every loss. Even if it’s not spoken, I feel it as if it’s background noise, and sit there in silent rage thinking of how to outmaneuver the enemy next time. If only the idiot leaders had the brain to feel this discouragement from time to time, there would be less of them.

Soul Reaping

It always amused me that the soul of another could be reaped to keep me alive and well. Recently my curiosity overcame me as my brother Carneggon hacked violently through a Bright Wizard during a fight for control of a keep, and repaired my wounds with his essence. Watching the red haired fire toting fool fall into a bloody slump, I wondered if some of ‘him’ was actually going into ‘me’. The thought repulsed me, so naturally I had to inquire.

Carneggon went into a confusing soliloquy while we looked out from atop the Covenant of Flame in Dragonwake later that hour. I’ll convey his explanation as best I can, though some of the more technical talk evaded my understanding. All creatures start as nothing but flesh, he says, and are no more special than a rock in the field. Yet there’s something intrinsic to the structure of the flesh that after a time, small amounts of the winds of magic precipitate to it. It’s as though you were to throw a handful of metal dust across a piece of paper, under which lay a magnet. The bits of metal would snap to attention as directed by the curious will of the magnet.

After a time, this precipitated magic shadows the workings of the body in every way, yet is inseparably attached, embedded in space perfectly to the physical body. At this point, I remember a glimmer in Carneggon’s eye, and he went on to say that ‘inseparable’ isn’t really the correct word. This magical sub-texture to each creature, this ‘soul’, can actually be torn from it’s footings with the proper application of Shyish magic.

A druchii with the appropriate skill can divorce the soul from the body, though the details of this my Disciple brother wouldn’t divulge. When the soul is reaped, it can be distilled so that it no longer resembles the creature it once inhabited. Like taking the magnet away from under the paper, the metal bits would fall into a random heap. Properly focused, this soul material can be infused into the living soul of another. Likewise, when channeled into a wound, the soul fortifies whatever current ‘soul material’ is already in that area, and stimulates the flesh to rapidly reform. In this sense, it’s almost as if the soul material has switched functions. When fortified in an area, the amount is more than natural, and the flesh then precipitates around it, using the energy of the ‘soul material’ to form into the proper organic configuration.

The Beast

Last night we had an entire guild warband on ventrilo, calling out targets for focus fire and working to build morale for morale bombing. After a while, things started becoming clearer in how Mythic intended the battles to be waged. The use of morale combinations between tanks, DPS, and healers was already clear, so in using those the door opened for newer nastier strategies to be implemented.

We started using our focus fire system, which immediately made us powerful enough to wipe any Order WB that was running around, and in 2 cases we wiped a WB and a half. Yet there were still gaps in our organization that I could see. Playing for a few hours and dwelling on these items leads to one of those nights where your dreams are restless and filled with visions of spell-casting and personnel positioning.

Without giving spoilers to our adversaries, I’d say I dreamt up a few micro-strategies to work into our ORVR Warband strategies. Punting stunties in cooperation, rifts timed before morale bombs, assist chains mixing in detaunts on melee chain targets, shattered shadows to keep the Order melee / ranged separation distinct, tanks rotating AE taunts, etc.
These are all easily done with vent, and the team we have is very capable of executing everything in sync. When the ventrilo channel sounds like a military war room, I get a warm fuzzy feeling. The drums of WAR sound to a 24 headed bloodthirsty beast.