The morning sun rose over the horizon, illuminating the dew-kissed grass on the plains of Mourningdale. I was scavenging in Ramshead for the highly coveted hyssop that was taking the market by storm. I was grateful as the warm rays of the Spark bathed me in warmth and brightened the sky. It’s incredibly difficult to see anything in northern Mourningdale at night, during the rain, amidst a gaggle of corrupted portals. Just as I raised my face to the sky to embrace the moment I felt it; That unmistakable calling. The irresistible calling where I completely forget everything I’ve been fighting for and join a randomly assorted cast of friends and foes to battle over an island for arbitrary purposes. I see some of my company members on the enemy team and I relish at the thought of tea-bagging them.
I heed the call.
As I warp onto the mysterious island, I tapped into my inner senses to get a feel for the fight that lies ahead of me. There’s twelve of us, and nineteen of them. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be. My team eagerly lines up at the gates and begin their customary squats. The gates open and the majority of my team begins a mad dash towards the Sun fort at the center of the map. Knowing better, I slip off to the right towards the closer fort. I consider stopping to claim the fort for our team but I know better; Claiming the fort is time consuming and it offers nothing to my own personal score. I sprint past the fort and begin doing what I came here to do, kill zombies. I brandish my blade and begin cutting them down, collecting the sweet sweet azoth they had been hoarding. As I make my way through their mining encampment I come upon the most threatening of their ilk, a zombie named Dug. He’s strong to be sure, but he dies like the rest and I collect the stone he was keeping. After carving my way through the mines I come upon some corrupted maniacs trying to have some crazy ritual. I cut them down as well and find the trippy shrine at the front of the portal. I know the corrupted are supposed to be my enemies but I go ahead and complete the ritual for them for reasons I can’t quite explain. I get another stone.
I glance towards the middle of the map as I witness a flurry of ice storms and great axes. Those fools, don’t they know this is a PvP encounter? Why are they wasting so much time fighting each other? It’s best not to dwell on these thoughts. I sneak up to the sun fort and place my stones in altars on either side, careful to avoid interacting with other combatants. A powerful wraith and a massive brute who’s power can only be described as ignorant-in-design spring forth and begin devastating the enemy team! The enemy team currently has two of the three forts captured, but I tapped into my sense again and realize the team members values have changed, seventeen to twenty.
I quickly flee the raging battle and go back to killing the denizens and wildlife of the island. I collect two more brute stones and place them at the fort closest to the enemy’s base. Finally, it’s time. I begin capturing the enemy fort closest to their base with my two over-inflated body guards just as the spooky-girl manifests on the island. Both teams rush to claim her bounty while I sit on an ever-growing circle of blue.
A stray enemy mage makes their way past my guards in the fort. It’s unavoidable, I’m going to have to fight another player. Luckily, I deviate from the norm and play my own retarded style. I leap onto the mage with sword thrust forward, he tries to roll away to create distance but I skillfully light attack as fast and as often as I can. I am a master of the blade. People who have witnessed my skill before claim I appear to “float” across the ground as I strike. My adversary realizes trying to out-skill my technique won’t work and we begin hitting each other in place. I facetank a few of their spells and as we both draw close to death, I sheath my sword and brandish my hatchet. Tapping into my raw unbridled fury I unleash attacks at them as they try and dodge and shoot. He smirks as a fireball explodes in my face, but I’m too stupid to take lethal damage, so I continue to hack until he is nothing but a corpse on the ground. I am a god. At least until this incredible warrior approached me with his great axe. I’d never seen such skill before. He unleashed an unstoppable torrent of blows that I just could not get away from and in my already weakened state I stood no chance against a true, skill-based master. At last, death’s sweet release has come to claim me, but only for a moment as nothing on this accursed isle stays dead. Nothing, except people’s motivation to keep going on.
Meanwhile the enemy team has claimed the baroness’s prize and halted my team’s progression. Jokes on them, after I rose from the dead I went and farmed another brute and replaced that wraith I placed earlier. The enemy team was able to burn the wraith fairly quickly, but there is no quick way of dealing with a brute. With the power of four brutes my team quickly and decisively claims the battlefield. There is no counter play, no clever strategy that can overcome the sheer power brought on by my zombie slaying.
The battle ends shortly after. The enemy team apparently giving up in the face of our BRUTE FORCE. I collect my spoils and am teleported back to the plains of Mourningdale to continue my herb picking. An enemy faction player is startled by my sudden appearance, but they do not carry the flag of their people so I am unable to do combat with them. We pick our herbs together in peace.
This is true skill-based PvP.