You sit down at the computer after a long day of work. A brief glance at the calendar on your wall reminds you that today was supposed to be the conquest of the North Demon Tower in Shattered World. It was going to be starting two hours ago though, is it even still going? You decide to ask.
You double click on the icon in your quick task bar, bringing up the Shattered World Chat window. You click on the tab for the Guild Chat and type in quickly, “Secured the Fortress yet?”
“Get your butt in here! We’re about to break into the tower!”
You chuckle, “All right, be in there in a second.”
You double click on the Shattered World Icon and wait impatiently as it automatically resolves your login from the chat application and connects you to the server you were chatting on. You spawn in in the middle of the guild town, and run over to the channeler’s portal in front of the Town Hall. Stepping through places you at the field portal outside of the Fortress, where the players in the member guilds of another alliance are fighting off a small npc patrol. You let out a few shots from the energy cannon you’re carrying in your right hand, easily defeating the corporal npc, as you pass them, eliciting some thankful tells.
At the base of the tower you find the doors bashed open and no players in sight, obviously further up the tower. You run in and up seven circular flights of stairs before finding yourself in the middle of ninety level 300 + players milling about the gargantuan fortress commander. There are long range players lining the stairs to the room above, as six massive tanks take turns rushing in and taking the brunt of it’s angry assault. Occasionally a heavily armored transferrer will run up to one and begin field repairing their shield while the other five take over.
The boss is already down to 10% and you can tell he is powering up one of his major attacks. DPS players ran to either side, taking to the stairs hoping to avoid the worst of the blast. A tank from both of the alliances represented run forward, switching to less expensive blade shields and locking both shields together in front of them. The attack lands snapping the heavy shields in half and leaving each with barely enough health to limp, an unfortunate dpser who hadn’t quite gotten out of the way in time evaporated. ‘Sucks to be him, those were good weapons’ you think. The other four tanks ran in taking the brunt of his follow up attacks, so their damaged companions could switch to other shields and put some biomass towards regenerating.
You run in on the boss, unleashing energy blasts while getting into the thick of it with your bladed left arm. Next to you a guy who had obviously put almost all his biomass into dense muscles and leg spikes was going at him like an angry little Brazilian Capoiera master. The health dropped down to 6%, then five minutes later to 5%. 4%, 3%, you’re guild leader calls for an energy barrage in tactical chat, and you can hear the distinct tunk of setting your energy weapon to charge being echoed all around you. Halfway to 2%, the final ranged user reports, “charged”.
“Fire!” The leader of the other Alliance yells for the whole room, and all at once everyone fires. The light going into the boss is blinding, but can’t stop the reports of “weapon melted, glad I switched to my secondary” from flooding the tactical chat. You check yours but it seems your weapon survived, barely, but it did make it. The boss is down to one tenth of a percent of health left, the dpsers land their final blows, ending it’s existence.
Tactical chat becomes very busy for a while as people tally up the biomass and progress scrip totals coming their way, metals of varying rarity also seem to be pouring in. Finally as everyone calms down the various guild leaders of the two alliances meet in the center of the room. The alliance members shuffle around, trying to make sure they have position on the others should the dealings go south. They all waited for the moment that an alliance war would be announced and they would be free to attack within thirty levels of their own.
You even watch as some of them redirect their biomass into pvp builds, changing their appearance.
Finally your leader says, “North, South split.”
“Only if we get the North.”
Your leader goes silent for a minute.
“Then we get the tower.”
“Fair is fair, you know as well as I do it’s worth it.”
The other leader pauses, then finally nods.
“All right, but it’ll cost thirty thousand scrip.”
“Oh come on, twenty thousand is more than enough.”
“Twenty thousand! That won’t even buy us enough biomass to repair all our gear!”
“Twenty five then.”
“Twenty seven at least.”
“Twenty five, and we’ll pay the guards.”
“So we have a deal then?”
“We have a deal.”
The strategy channel tab flashed.
“Incoming, looks like their pretty pissed. Got a couple Attack Commanders with two whole divisions backing them up. Could be more though.”
“We’ve got npc backup incoming from Ventrair.”
“Holy shit, it’s the fucking Angel Stompers!”
“This far north, I thought they were all busy holding back the Angels down south…”
“Well theres twenty of them headed straight for me. One sent me a tell, looks like they want to help us out with defense to train up some noobs.”
“How many noobs?”
“They say about fifty.”
“Well tell them we’re glad they’re helping! Someone send Krog a tell, he needs to tell his alliance not to attack them.”
“Oi, pirate bastards heading this way too. I don’t get the feeling they want to talk.”
“Great, like we needed to beat down more dick heads today.”
Private tell from your friend:
“Aren’t you so glad you logged on today, lol.”