“When did you know you were stuck in the game?” the level 23 gnome player asked.
“Uhh, well, pretty much right away, I guess?” I replied. “As soon as my pain reducers stopped working, I tried to get out right then and there. It just…didn’t work,” I added with a shrug.
“Wow,” another said in awe. “You’re so brave.” They turned to the others. “I woulda just locked myself in a room and hid for the first week!”
“Not if you were level 100, dipso,” a level 36 human said. He turned back to me. “I’m surprised you haven’t gone on a murderhobo spree yet!”
I chuckled uncomfortably at that. I had been fielding questions for almost an hour now, and was hitting my limit. Everyone I had met had been fairly supportive, which was a welcome surprise. But at my core, I was an introvert, and I knew I would need to recharge soon. It was so damned draining meeting hundreds of strangers nonstop.
I signaled Jeremy to come over. He was the best at buying me some space. He saw my wave and started towards us. “Guys,” I said. “I think I’m gonna go take five. I’ll be happy to field some more questions in a-” Motion in the corner of my vision drew my eye. Something had flashed behind me where there shouldn’t have been anything. Almost like two floating candle lights drifting in the air.
I turned to look and hot iron ripped through my back, blinding me with the pain. I stumbled into the level 36 human as more flashes of pain hit me in the chest and shoulders from different angles.
You have been inflicted with bleeding (5 seconds)!
-50 Health Points/sec while moving.
You have been hobbled (7 seconds)!
Movement hampered.
Movement speed -25%.
My health flashed deep into the red, only a few percent remaining. I tried to push myself up, make space between me and the figure now materialized where I had been standing moments before.
I recognized that figure, the billowing black cloth, the pinprick red eyes, the snake pattern that writhed across his armor.
Ysillith!
I was on the ground now, the level 36 human pinned under me as I had dragged him down. A weird thought occurred to me in that moment: I didn’t even check this guy's name…
The Rogue looked down at me and laughed. He twirled his dagger expertly, showing off his skills.
“Payback’s a bitch,” he said, hoisting his dagger back for the coup de grâce. “I’m streaming this out to the whole world. Let’s see if you really only have the one life.”
My senses came back to me during his villainous monologue. I slammed the button to activate my [Good Enough Health Potion] and hit [Freezing Wave] simultaneously. The potion was a stopgap - only 5% HP over 15 seconds. But [Freezing Wave] was how I had beaten Ysillith last time.
My health began to creep back up as the icy wave erupted around me in a circle. It crashed into Ysillith’s ankles, but he trudged right through it, his body taking on a shadowy appearance.
He had mitigated the root somehow!
“Nuh uh,” he said with a finger wag.
All around us, pandemonium had erupted. Most of the players noticed the max-level enemy Rogue and bolted for the door. Some - a scant few - looked on with consternation, frozen with indecision. Taking on a level 60 Rogue as a lower level was suicide, and many players carried far more gold than they should when within the supposed ‘safety’ of Bastion. Despite their good intentions, none of them were prepared to drop that gold in a suicidal fight.
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But one person acted without hesitation and without reserve.
As Ysillith’s arm reached back, ready to fling the blade that would zero me out, Jeremy came flying in like a middle linebacker.
He leapt towards Ysillith, his body crashing against the Rogue and bouncing off like he had hit a brick wall. But the blow had staggered the Rogue briefly, giving my potion time to work, and allowing me to pull out [Hope’s Edge].
I swept my glaive out, aiming for Ysillith’s knee, but he danced back with a growl, the frustration clear even though I couldn’t see his face.
“Will you just die!?” he shouted, rearing back again.
As his arm came whipping down, he disappeared, his body gone in a flash. I looked around stupidly, wondering if he had gone invisible again. I hobbled to my feet, my debuffs counting down as I scanned my surroundings for the Rogue.
Harold came running out of the Guildhall, his breathing ragged.
“It’s okay!” he shouted across the courtyard. “I turned off the Open status of the Hall! Everyone got teleported out to the street!”
I breathed a sigh of relief, but then the realization hit me. Ysillith had just been transported directly outside the Guildhall…along with nearly a hundred other players! He was cornered!
“Let’s go get him!” I shouted, starting for the door. My bleeding and hobbled debuff hadn’t expired yet, and the movement took off some more of my already dangerously low health, while the hobbled debuff caused intense pain in my hamstring.
Harold watched me with concern. “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked, indicating the blood dripping down my chest and leg.
I thought about it for a moment. No one would blame me if I just let Ysillith go. If he had been streaming like he said he was, then the whole world had just watched him fail. That was embarrassment enough for someone like him. But was it enough for me…
He had tried to kill me! He must have known that I wouldn’t respawn - everyone and their mother knew that was even remotely clued in on the S&S scene. Which meant he had known, and tried to kill me anyway. Wait...what had he said? 'Let's see if you really only have one life.'
Caution be damned - I wanted to see him dead.
“Fuck it!” I said, forcing conviction into my voice. “I want that motherfucker!”
Jeremy was on his feet now, his own face filled with concern. “Ray, bro…you sure?”
I looked inside myself, wondering if I was crazy. Was this just the adrenaline giving me a false bravado? If it came down to a fight between Ysillith and hiding, wouldn’t I be a fool not to just hide?
Absolutely. But at a certain point, I needed to take control of my own destiny. I had decided not to be a victim anymore, and for my own sense of self, I needed to do this.
I nodded at Jeremy. “I’m sure.”
He smiled, punched me lightly on the shoulder, and said, “Then go get that fucker!”
I winked at him, charged up my [Bounding Leap], and launched myself straight over the Guildhall roof and into the street beyond.
----------------------------------------
Inside, Ysillith was raging! How!? How had that clueless Damsel evaded him again!?
Of course, he knew what had happened. Someone with Guild admin rights had run to the Control Module and flipped the Entry rights from ‘Open’ to ‘Members Only.’ As a result, anyone that wasn’t a member had been ejected directly onto the street.
And that was where Ysillith found himself now…him, his four fellow Rogues, and about a hundred and fifty Con players.
Thankfully for him, 99% of the Con players weren’t max level. They had reacted quickly to the five Neck Rogues in their midst, launching spells and arrows and melee strikes in a wave of absolute chaos that would have overwhelmed newer players.
But the five of them were PvP vets. Their bread-and-butter was fighting other players, and they reacted immediately.
Julian had dropped a [Smoke Bomb] in seconds, obscuring the five of them from anyone that didn’t have True Sight. Ysillith’s [Anti-magic Cloak] was still on cooldown from when he had negated the Damsel’s [Freezing Wave], but the [Smoke Bomb] skill negated AoE damage by 50%, which was enough to weather the initial onslaught.
He had wasted no time firing back, his [Poisoned Blade of Shadow] whipping out rapid fire at the melee players that tried to wade into the cloud of smoke.
While he did that, he simultaneously was mentally typing out a message to the four Rogues. Before the cloud of smoke dissipated, they would scatter, each going different directions. As soon as they broke combat, they could re-stealth and regroup. From there, they could stake out the Guildhall and wait for the Damsel to poke her head out.
Ysillith: We’ll watch in shifts. I’ll take the first two hours.
Urgn: Ysil, maybe we should bounce? The whole city’s gonna be looking for us in minutes.
Ysillith: Don’t be such a pussy-
He was mid-message when a player flew up from the courtyard of the Damsel’s Guildhall. He watched as they arced down, crashing into the street with a grunt, a red and black glaive in their grip.
He felt a smile touch his face.
The Damsel did have balls after all.