My Love For You Is Ticking Clock…

Posted by Kwip on September 24th, 2004 | Comments Off

With the release of Omens of War and Gates of Dischord, a class of player that has long been overlooked is finally getting it’s moment of glory.

Crafters? No, no – we all know that they’ve been given all sorts of shiny trinkets and digital love through the years. Power players? Please. With the increase in the level cap, Omens of War has the Power Play Stamp Of Approval all over it. Role Players? Ugh, I can’t believe you even thought to bring that up. Voice macros, people – if any of your role-playing friends complain about feeling unloved, send them a voice macro from me about the mating habits of their parents.

No, the player class that has long since been overlooked is the class that I stand proudly in the midst of.

The cowards.

Let’s face it: it’s all well and fine for the rest of you to charge into battle, knowing that you might get hurt – shucks, you might even die in the battle. But what about those of us that like to hang back from the fighting? Not really casting spells, healing, or doing anything productive like that. Just sort of…hiding. I mean hey, I’ll gladly come forward when it’s time to divvy up the loot. And I’ll be certain to remind you of the important role I played making sure nothing snuck up behind us while you faced down the hordes of screaming Muramites. Just to make sure I get a fair cut. And by “fair,” I mean half.

Now, finally, we cowards are getting our fair shake.

How?

Why, the Berserker class, of course.

Oh, I know that some of you think that Berserkers are the very epitome of great warriors. And look, I’m not trying to shatter your illusions or anything, but Berserking and cowardice go together like Ben & Jerry.

Yes, of course classic stories about Berserkers always mention them going crazy and killing everything in their path. But what they DON’T tell you is that they were actually trying to run away from the fighting, and the stupid enemy just kept getting in the way, leaving the poor, cowardly Berserkers no choice but to slaughter them all mercilessly and then pillage their villages.

Hey, sometimes you have to work really hard to be a coward.

One very interesting ability that the Berserkers have is the ability to “hurl large objects.” Now I’m not trying to give anyone any sorts of ideas of how to play their Berserkers, but I just want to throw this out there: the members of your party could be considered “large objects.” Even dwarfs and halflings can be “large objects.” You just have to grab them in groups of two or more. Think about that next time you’ve got Zlandicar chasing after you.

Let’s face it – monsters are categorically lazy, shiftless things. Why would they bother chasing after some scrawny Berserker, when a tasty elf is practically thrown right into their mouths? Douse your party member with a bit of barbecue sauce before you launch them for added benefit.

Look, your teammates are going to complain about you if you get everyone killed, right? Well, a wise man Vulcan once laid down the ultimate truth when it comes to party sacrifice: Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. The secret is to ensure that you’re one of the many and that your party member is one of the few.

For this reason, I strongly recommend grouping with one fat, slow, and preferably clumsy party member. Ogres are perfect. Besides the fact that they’re a feast for most of your monsters, they also tend to be a bit dumb. So odds are good that you can convince them that they actually tripped and got eaten, not that you picked them up and hurled them into the oncoming horde of phase spiders.

There might be a bit of protesting about your behavior from the other party members, so be prepared to sacrifice a few more until the rest get the message: the needs of the MANY (i.e., you), outweigh the needs of the FEW (i.e., them).

Some people will tell you that monsters won’t stop to eat a party member that’s thrown at them, no matter how much tasty barbecue sauce you douse them in. They insist that the monsters will stick to their hate list, going after that pesky warrior and the smarmy cleric. The warrior, because of his silly taunts and repeated attempts at braining the monster; the cleric, because she was foolish enough to heal the warrior as the monster tried to kill him.

This should be obvious why the role of a coward involves not really allowing the monster to notice you.

There are a lot of cowards that tell you the best way to do this is to hide a little way away from the rest of the party. Say, the next zone over. However, this will prevent you from getting your proper share of experience for each kill. No, the smart way to play is to hang far enough back from the group so that you’re still able to soak up experience, yet still able to be the first one in line when it comes time to flee for your lives.

Granted, there’s a fine balance to maintain doing this: you want to close enough that you get experience, far enough away from the fighting that you won’t be noticed by the monster everyone else is fighting, and yet not be outside the circle of protection your group will offer from passing mobs. This is where the skill of being a true coward really comes into play.

Well, that and convincing the rest of your group that you’re actually doing something productive and should be allowed to continue mooching experience off of them.

If anyone challenges you, I suggest claiming to be a shaman and saying you’ve been trying to cast slow on every mob, but it’s just failing. That probably won’t work, but it will start everyone griping about how badly their class got nerfed and why you should consider yourself lucky, etc, etc. If they don’t buy it, well, you know who your first large object’ is going to be when it comes time for party sacrifices…

Now as the coward of the party, one thing you’ll have to do is keep everyone in high spirits. Every great hero throughout history has always had a coward with them, and that person always played the comedic relief. Indiana Jones had Satipo (“Throw me the idol!”). Conan had Malak (“A fine magician you are!”). Dorothy had the Lion (“Put em up, put em up!”). Reagan had Ollie (“Of course I shredded them all… I think?”).

My point is, besides being very good at hurling your party members and running away, you also have to be very good at making your party laugh. This might be a bit challenging, what with many of them angry at you for leeching experience. And the whole throwing one (or more) of them into a dragon’s mouth. That might cause some friction.

BUT – here’s the important part – humor is the great healer! Next time you’re storming through Discord and your party is grumbling over the wounds they’ve suffered and how badly some of them are hurt, try this little mood-lightener:

“Knock knock!”
“Who’s there?”
“Mata Muram.”
“Mata Muram who?”
“No, seriously – Mata Muram is right behind you with like a billion screaming Muramites. (Launch Ogre.) RUN FOR ZONE WALL!”

Another wonderful way to use humor to fulfill your role in the party is by making witty observations based on your current situations or battles you just fought. Something like this:

“WOW (insert party member’s name), YOU SURE ARE A STUPID WHORE.”

If they get mad, it’s obviously because they don’t have a sense of humor. This is an important fact to remember, because it’s a scientific fact that people without a sense of humor taste better. You’ve all heard the joke about two cannibals eating a clown – “does this taste funny?” There you go. They say that within every great joke is a kernel of truth. I know; that’s pretty heavy stuff. Feel free to meditate on that wisdom if you want.

Sometimes inter-party joking only works if you spread it out a bit. Try not to focus your humor on just one person. If you tease everyone in the party, this gives them a sense of camaraderie and makes them feel like they’re part of a well-functioning team, and can relieve stress and ill will among party members. You don’t want to be too harsh on them; just use something light-hearted, like:

“WOW (insert party member’s name), YOU SURE ARE A STUPID WHORE. SO IS (insert another party member’s name).”

If you’re in a party that doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, a great way to loosen them up a bit and make them more receptive to your humorous antics is by using what’s known as “self-deprecating humor.” This is humor that undervalues oneself and one’s abilities. It’s a very difficult skill to manage, but you will have some success if you stick to something like this:

“WOW (insert group member’s name), YOU SURE ARE A STUPID WHORE. AND I HAVE A BIG NOSE.”

After you go to such lengths to humor the group, it’s very unlikely that they’ll begrudge you some experience and a fair share of the loot (half, remember) in return for your comedic wit.

All in all, playing as a Berserker Coward opens up entire new play styles and experiences to not just you, but everyone you encounter. And by “encounter,” I mean, “dump an entire train of monsters upon while giggling maniacally.” Get out there and start tossing party-members today!

The Truth Behind Kelethin

Posted by Kwip on February 20th, 2004 | Comments Off

Let’s be clear, here: if you can build a city in the trees, that’s impressive. I do not mean to say that you’re an idiot.

Indeed, some of the galaxy’s greatest heroes have come from tree cities. Chewbacca from Kashyyk, Chief Chirpa from Endor, Prince Barin of Mongo… Okay, wait, strike Barin. He was a bit of a poof.

*Interesting footnote! In a D&D campaign with Phil, YellowRat, Anson and a few others, I once played a halfling thief. Once, climbing a tree to sleep in, I fell out and died. Art imitates life!

I’m not even addressing how hard it has to be to find trees that can, you know, support an entire city on them. I’ve got a pretty big tree in front of my apartment, and one time I thought it’d be really funny if I climbed up in it and threw things at the 2nd-floor windows to drive the cats nuts. The tree, with a keener sense of humor, thought it’d be even funnier if it broke right the hell in half and dropped me ten feet onto my face.*

So when you show me an entire city built in a bunch of trees, and not only do those trees support entire spaceships, but also MY ASS? Well, just color me impressed!

And, continuing in that tradition, we come to the tree city of Kelethin. 

**Thanks to a typo in my guidebook, I read that as the “incestral” city of wood elves, which had me coming here for entirely different reasons.

Kelethin is the fabulous ancestral** city of the wood elves. If you couldn’t guess that, you pick up on it pretty quickly, mostly due to the fact that it’s built out of wood. And there’s lots of elves standing around doing whatever poofy thing it is that elves get up to when nobody’s watching. Yeah, you can make whatever claims about that city being a respectable establishment that you want, but there’s like eight THOUSAND little rooms there, all over the place, and none of them have anything in them except a front and back door. I may not be an expert on whorehouses, but I did watch “Best Little Whorehouse In Texas” fifty-seven times, and although Dolly didn’t get naked any of the times I viewed it, that specific whorehouse featured rooms with two doors and little else. Presumably, the city designers here copied the floorplan in the hopes that Burt Reynolds would burst in and hilarious antics would ensue.

This city, though – it’s a masterpiece. If it weren’t for dirty little dark elves running around and molesting everything important in the world, this place would probably have it’s own television show dedicated to building it and showing just how awesome it is.

But answer me this, genius constructors: where the hell are the railings? Yeah, it’s cool looking and everything, but when your city’s sole source of amusement is sitting around and waiting for n00bs to come plummeting out of the sky – that’s just not healthy, man.

Oh, sure, everyone wants to make claims that this was just to teach people to walk carefully, but I know the truth: wood elves are a bunch of girlies anyway. Their only possible hope to subjugate the other races in the world is to lure them to their doom from the heights of Kelethin. They build this crazy fancy city that everyone wants to see, right, only the catch is that once you’re there, you’re expected to plummet to your death. If you don’t oblige them purposefully, they start showing you all the cool bungee-jumping platforms they have – only they often forget to tie the other end of the bungee to anything…

Granted, this attempt at eliminating other races has worked a lot better than the Ogres’ idea for Neriak. Their great innovation was to show off their amazing technical advancement: “Boulder.” Which they would then attempt to pick up and drop on the visitor’s head.

So okay, wood elves. A+ for effort, B+ for design, F- for being murderous, evil bastiches.

EQ
EQ