by Justin Coke
“Oh no, he’s in Swedish Murder Machine now. He’s like, an officer. Been running the defense of Potash all day.”
“So, like, where does that leave us?”
“I say that doing the no-curse assassination now will make the whole situation go nuclear.”
“So put it on hold?”
“Hell no! Did my tone imply that? No. Let’s light this shit up. I haven’t had this much fun in ages,” Mad Hatter said.
“I’m for it,” Tick Tock said. “Let’s get this done. Whatever the deal with Squid Pistol was, it doesn’t matter. We let him build his legend, we’ll have accomplished the exact opposite of our intent. Take him down now.”
“If we do it now,” Kid Twist said, “we might make him a martyr and make it even worse. Remember, we’re just stealing his shit, which is embarrassing at most. He’s not actually dead. He’ll still be around, and Tier 2 isn’t that hard to get.”
“You’re the client, Hayes. What do you think?”
“I think I want to attack Garth in his gear,” Hayes said, galled beyond belief that he had accidentally set Teabagz on the path to stardom. That couldn’t stand.
At the end of the day, the Thrill Kill Cult was a thrill kill cult, and the thought of taking out a rising star during the active defense of a city—that was much more thrilling than what they usually did, which was just multi-box some rogues into position to lay into some schmuck who was cybering the client’s girlfriend.
They came up with a plan while the Thrill Kill Cult started to infiltrate their Palladium rogues through the lines and into Potash.
Chapter Seventeen
Hayes sat behind the lines outside of Garth, watching a shield wall of chevaliers getting absolutely smashed by spells and arrows coming so fast it looked like a laser light show. Paladins and medicine men stood behind them, casting spells as fast as they could to keep the line alive, while the Palladium ranged classes tried to burn down their shield wall.
Without surprise, these battles became a matter of enthusiasm and numbers; with the Squalids having found their weird, gross, vile Joan of Arc, that one was in the air. Numbers though, the Palladium had that. One break in the line and the Berserkers, waiting on horses for a break in the lines, would pour through. After that, anything could happen.
He was on Marconi when he was invited to a party by Mad Hatter.
Four rogues were already in the party, including Quartermain, the rogue who had accidentally given away Kid Twist’s identity.
“What?” Hayes said.
“QMain wanted in,” Mad Hatter said, a tone that suggested it would be a bad idea to bring up his previous comments on Quatermain’s intelligence.
“I’m with target on his Marconi, we’re watching the battle from the northeast battlements. He’s got 20:45 left on his Curse.”
“We’re in position in case he drops it earlier.”
“He’s too busy talking about how he’s going to fuck Kid Twist up, we have time.”
“This place is crawling,” Quartermain said. “How’d you guys get in here?”
“He says, as he got in here.”
“I’m me though.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means I’m better than you,” Quartermain said. “And I barely got in.”
“Maybe I’m better than you.”
“I think you’ve got a warlock logged out in the basement of the inn,” Quartermain said.
“Attic, actually,” Mad Hatter said.
“See, told you.”
“I was smart and patient enough to plant a lock here, and you weren’t, so if anything I think that reflects on my skills better than just being good at moving slowly.”
“Whatever, no-Curse duel?”
“We’ll talk about it afterwards.”
“I bet.”
“If ya’ll are done dick waving ... ” Tick Tock said.
“Yeah, yeah. Status?”
“He’s watching the fight and issuing orders. He thinks the southeast side is weakest.”
“Pass that along, Hayes,” Mad Hatter said.
“You pick sides?” Hayes replied.
“No, but chaos is good,” Mad Hatter replied.
Hayes typed out a message to Colossus relaying the message.
“I see him. These stairs have too much light. Is there another way up there?”
“There’s a corner with shadow over here,” Tick Tock said.
“He’s going to recycle Graverobbers now!” Kid Twist said.
“Not enough time.”
“QMain, fuck it—go, go, go. Hayes, have the summons ready. I’ll loot. Get me first,” Mad Hatter said.
“Wait! Two squalid rogues just went up the stairs stealthed. Squid Pistol! They’re Squid Pistol!” Tick Tock shouted.
“It’s a trap,” Kid Twist said, dead calm.
“QMain, start your attack. We’re going to betray you,” Mad Hatter said.
“What?” Quartermain exclaimed.
“Just do it! It’ll make sense!”
“Okay,” Quartermain said.
Hayes watched Quartermain’s health bar drop to zero over the course of three seconds.
“Sorry, old chap. But we were about to blow our cover.”
“I’m sorry,” Hayes said. “What the fuck is happening?”
“Talk later. Teabagz’s soliloquizing,” Kid Twist said.
“Rabaul, Hayes, whatever, you be ready to summon me out when I rez or I’m going to flip shit,” Quartermain said.
Mad Hatter PM’d Hayes: He was testing us. Seeing if we’d defend him if he was attacked with no Curse. QMain took a bullet for us. Talk later.
Hayes bit his lip and joined the attack. Teabagz could not be allowed to win. He was turning out to be much smarter than Hayes was prepared to admit.
Chapter Eighteen
He had an email from Kid Twist.
WELL THAT COULD HAVE GONE BETTER. TARGET HAD GROWN SUSPICIOUS; BELIEVED THERE WAS NO WAY QUARTERMAIN AND THE REST OF SIR DIGBY WOULD BE RAIDING A LOW-LEVEL WHEAT FARMER ON ACCIDENT, AND HE’D ONLY TOLD US ABOUT THE DEAL. THIS IS A FUNDAMENTALLY ACCURATE INSIGHT. IT WAS EITHER US OR HIS INTENDED SCAM VICTIM. VALUE OF DEAL TOO LOW TO INTEREST SIR DIGBY, IN TARGET’S MIND, MAKING SCAM VICTIM UNLIKELY LEAKER. LEAVING US WORKING AN ANGLE. SIR DIGBY MEMBER BRAGGED ABOUT FUCKING UP TARGET, WORD GOT BACK. MH NAILED IT ON HOW TARGET FIGURED IT OUT.
SO WHILE IT’S GOOD THAT WE DEFENDED HIM, I’M NOT SURE WE’RE OUT OF THE WOODS YET. THE FACT THAT IT WAS QMAIN OF ALL PEOPLE WHO TRIED TO JACK HIM AGAIN HAS CONVINCED HIM, AGAIN ACCURATELY, THAT SOMEONE IS SERIOUSLY OUT TO GET HIM. OUR SQUALID PERSONAS MIGHT BE IN THE CLEAR, BUT HE IS AWARE THAT SOMEONE IS COMING TO GET HIM. QMAIN ENGAGING IN SUICIDAL ATTACK MIGHT BE CHALKED UP TO QMAIN JUST TRYING HIS LUCK IN FACE OF RARE OPPORTUNITY TO NO-CURSE ASSASSINATE SOMEONE; HE MIGHT START THINKING ON MORE PARANOID (AND AGAIN, ACCURATE) AVENUES AND ASK HOW HE MANAGED TO FIND TEABAGZ AT EXACTLY THE RIGHT MOMENT. FACT THAT HE IS USING HIS SQUID PISTOL CRONIES FOR SECURITY INDICATES HOW DEEP PARANOIA GOES; HE DOES NOT LIKE THOSE GUYS BUT APPARENTLY FEELS LIKE HE CAN TRUST THEM NOT TO RIP HIM OFF. CAN’T FIGURE THAT ONE OUT.
IF GARTH DOESN’T FALL TONIGHT, PALLADIUM CASUALS WILL LOSE INTEREST AND TURN ELSEWHERE, ADDING TO TARGET’S WEIRD LEGEND. SQUALID LEADERS KNOW THIS, AND THAT MEANS GARTH WILL BE WELL DEFENDED. EXPECT PALLADIUM TO BE ON DEFENSIVE SOON.
MH AND I ARE AT A LOSS ON HOW TO PROCEED. IN GENERAL, WE TEND TO PREFER TO SIT BACK AND LET OPPORTUNITIES ARISE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS; FORCING SITUATION, ESP. WITH TARGET AS PARANOID AS HE IS, LIKELY TO BACKFIRE.
IN ADDITION SQUID PISTOL BOTS NOW JUST RUNNING AROUND FREEPORT, WHICH HAS RETAINED NEUTRAL GROUND STATUS.
Hayes replied.
I know what to do. We should take Freeport.
WHAT GOOD WOULD THAT DO?
Whatever Squid Pistol was up to, they did it in private. Now that it’s a war zone, they can’t. I don’t know what they’re doing, but we should disrupt it. That’s where his money is comi
ng from. We should run Squid Pistol into the dirt. Either something will turn up to explain what the hell they’re doing, or it’ll disrupt their income. It can’t hurt to try.
FLIPPING FREEPORT WILL BE DIFFICULT, AND MAKE MANY ELEMENTS IN PALLADIUM UNHAPPY.
It’s a populist revolt, isn’t it? Go to the people.
I WON’T. YOU COULD. SINCE THE STORY IS THAT I STARTED THIS THING, MY VISIBILITY IS WAY TOO HIGH. DON’T NEED MORE ATTENTION.
I don’t have the connections to do it.
ANY ASSHOLE CAN START A WARBAND THESE DAYS. TALK TO QMAIN. SIR DIGBY IS ALWAYS UP FOR LOLZ AND I KNOW THEY WOULDN’T MIND OWNING A CITY. IT APPEALS TO THEIR SENSE OF GRANDEUR. QMAIN COULD GET IT DONE, NO PROBLEM.
So he did. Quartermain was jocular and enthused.
“I’ve had a Border Stone with that place’s name on it for ages,” Quartermain said. “Already have the plans drawn up.” And that was that. Thirty minutes later they had a 200-person war band together and sorted into ten-man platoons on Sir Digby’s Marconi server.
The boat to Freeport cycled every five minutes. They crammed as many people as they could into the boat, pushing lowbies into the water until the boat was full of their war band; well over half remained on the docks. They sailed for Freeport. The Border Stone would be rolled onto the boat by the third wave.
Freeport was utterly undefended—no guards, no organized defense. They burst from the docks and charged the utterly shocked war profiteers, who barely put up a fight. The expectation of free trade was so great that even in this time of war, even with Graverobbers, the 20% of the cash available as loot was considerable.
They didn’t burn (much) because it wasn’t needed. The city was theirs simply because they had the will to take it.
Fifteen minutes later, the border stone was rolled into the city center and planted. Quartermain and his guild mates started deploying the guards and fortifications; before the hour was out, Freeport was a tidy and mean little fortress by the sea. For the next day, unaware members of the enemy factions would log in, expecting the same old anarchy as before, only to get curb stomped by the guards and joyous Sir Digby members, proud to finally have a place to call their own.
One poor Shadow Person even got caught in the middle of a GraveRobber cool down. The loot—a full set of tier 2, 150,000 gold, and 50 Sorathi Crystals—nearly paid for the conquest in and of itself.
The Squalid response was disorganized that first night. Hayes gave Quartermain his cell phone number and went to sleep.
He was woken at 2 AM by a text from Quartermain.
TBAG COMING, 500 IN WARBAND. MAJOR PALLADIUM GUILDS NOT WILLING TO HELP.
Groggy, he got up to help. He didn’t log in though; he went to the server forum and started typing.
Quartermain in Defense of Freeport; Will You Fight to End Cheating?
We’ve all come to accept that cross faction trading and politicking as the norm, but the average player has been priced out of owning land or good gear because they’ll always get outbid by someone who has made their fortune violating the Terms of Service. Freeport is the hub for all the illicit trade that has made life suck for the average player and let the IRL rich kids run this game.
Tonight Quartermain and Sir Digby Chicken Caesar took a stand against the elites by taking Freeport and running off the traders and establishing law and order. Palladium law, and Palladium Order. Teabagz is coming with 200 Squalid players to turn Freeport back into the hub of trade (his Squid Pistol cronies have been using Freeport to advance their RMT trade since the war began). The big guilds are refusing to help. If you want things to go back to the way they were, stay home. But if you like the changes that happened over the last week and want them to stay, go to Freeport. Fight for Freeport. Fight against the elite.
He posted anonymously, since his guild tag didn’t exactly scream Proletariat. Then he logged into the game and joined the defense.
Chapter Nineteen
Teabagz appeared at the front of his horde, as magnificent as a gloopy pile of snot could be.
“I’ve been assured,” Quartermain said, “that if you play a Squalid, eventually your mind adjusts to Squalid characters, and they don’t look disgusting. Some serious Squalid players, I’ve been told, develop strange fetishes that are indulged only at Foon-Con.[66] Things they won’t speak of, at least where anyone can recognize their voices.”Hayes wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not[67] and calculated that the odds were good he’d regret finding out, so he let the comment pass. “Though they will write about it. A lot.”[68]“So ... what’s the plan with the battle?”
“We have three sides to worry about. I made a series of demilunes to prevent there from being isolated points they can concentrate fire on, and instead force them to be exposed to multiple sources of fire. Siege engines just behind the wall to counter their siege engines, with napalm ballistas with long fields of fire at the bastions. Should be state of the art.”
“State of the art?”
“Siegecraft,” Quartermain.
“That’s an art?”
“Well, as it relates to Mundis, it’s pretty old school,” Quartermain said. “We don’t have to worry about planes or artillery, so even Vauban is a bit advanced[69] given the offensive limitations of the enemy. I really wish Typhoon would update things. I’ve written quite a bit on the forums about how updating the siege mechanics would make open world PVP more fun, but I don’t think anyone at Typhoon is reading it.”[70]“Uh huh.”
“Basically the ranged classes are going to sit on the wall and shoot,” Quartermain said, despairing.[71] “The rogues will counter their rogues and pick off stragglers, while the berserkers and warriors, supported by healers and squid herders, will use warlock summons to get outside and sally.”
“Sally?”
“Find a weak spot in the enemy lines, as reported by the rogues, smash into it, come back, get summoned out, rinse and repeat.”
“That works?”
“In this kind of game, it’s really who gets bored first,” Quartermain said. “Their graveyard is a five-minute walk, ours is in the city, so we have the advantage there. Keeping people entertained is more important than actually destroying the enemy, you know, because it’s impossible to actually destroy them in Mundis. All about morale.”
“I had no idea you had thought about it this much.”
“People tend to treat me like a jock because I’m the nastiest rogue on the server,” Quartermain said, in the tone of a man simply stating the truth. “I’m actually a military historian. I do jog though.”
“I guess we do make stupid assumptions about people.”
“I remember when I first started a Squalid account, after playing Palladium for months,” Quartermain said as Teabagz’s reavers began their charge. “I was genuinely surprised when they spoke English and were actually nice to each other. I thought they were savages because I couldn’t talk to them and I only saw them when they were trying to kill me. Then I was embarrassed that I was surprised; of course they were normal people. Except for the sqooshing, I mean. There’s a lesson in that, when it comes to war, I think. Hey, Pete, you’re overshooting with the ballista, take it down like ten degrees.”
“Yeah,” Hayes said. The reavers had essentially been obliterated by a green and red laser of spells from the casters on the walls.
“Five more.
Go get in the fight,” Quartermain said. “Nice talking to you.”[72]Hayes was drafted into a raid group and told to make a macro to follow the target of Longshanks, the mage in charge of the fire group.
From there he flung hellfire. He probably should have been bored, but the target was a battle between the enemy healers and their DPS, and the enemy healers were as dedicated as they were. Each target existed in a moment of perfect tension; the damage was enough to kill them instantly, while the healing was enough to grant them immortality. Each battle lasted far longer than it should have, pure Yin and pure Yang in elemental combat, the target himself merely the tri
nket they had chosen to fight over.
“Over the wall,” Longshanks shouted.
“What?”
“Do not ask questions, follow me,” Longshanks said as he leapt over the wall. The fighting stopped for a minute, out of sheer surprise for the dumbest thing any of them had ever seen and with a quick glance at his Graverobbers timer (he was good), he leapt over the wall.
The enemy Berserkers ran to them as if to their mothers’ arms, ignoring the now disrupted and confused fire from the emptying walls, and they were soon being sliced to pieces with nowhere near enough healing support.
“This seems stupid,” Hayes shouted as he ran around a mound of fresh corpses to avoid a berserker that Hayes was pretty sure was literally salivating.[73]“Quartermain said something about can’t I kiss them[74] and told me to go over the wall.”
“Why would he want to kiss them?”
“Orders, man. In Sir Digby, we follow them ... Oh, that’s why,” Longshanks said. Hayes looked up, and saw, across the whole horizon, a thousand mounted Palladium players charging into the Squalid horde. It was ten times more awesome than that scene in The Two Towers. “That’s a relief.”
The Squalid horde tried to run, breaking like a flock of birds; but they were surrounded, cut up, and leaderless. They were all mowed down, and in a few minutes, only a plethora of Palladium players stood on the field, among piles of Squalid corpses.
“See,” Longshanks said, “that’s why you follow orders.”
Hayes set out to find Teabagz’s corpse so he could molest it and maybe get to gank Teabagz a few times as he tried to rez and ride away.
Unsuccessful, he was about to board the boat when Quartermain popped into Marconi.
“You posted that, didn’t you?”
“Posted what?”
“The thing about coming to help me overthrow the elites.”
“Yeah.”
“You mean that?”
“Not really. Just riding the wave.”
“Excellent work, then.”
“You like that I don’t believe it?”
“The art of manipulating morale has won more battles than anything else,” Quartermain said.