There Are Things MUCH Worse Than Evil PKs…

Death says, “Howdy!”
You groan.

Not again. I was doing so well lately. I actually had my vitae down to something not quite ridiculous. I think it was almost at 6% or something close. I actually cast some level II spells several times in a row! I was a powerhouse of killing!

So of course I got cocky.

“A Gigas? Man, I can toast that thing in two shots.”
Gigas smites you so hard, the lifestone chuckles!

“Hmmm…that sucked. More vitae! Well, there’s a Great Mattie. Let me see if he’s got any horns on him.”
Great Mattie bitch slaps you so hard the magnetic poles shift!

A few more tangles with critters, some interventions from a few PKs, and I’m back in familiar country. 28% country, to be specific. So it looks like I’ll be hunting a tad bit longer!

Well, that’s no big problem. I’ve hunted before, I’ll hunt again. I see some of the usual folks in this part of the woods; Mmenoch Blood is there, giving me some sweet buffs. Wheee!

But now there’s a new face. I know what you’re thinking: “Ah, another PK – run Kwip!” But no, this was not a PK.

It was worse.

“Eh?” you ask. “Worse than a PK’er? What could it possibly be?”

It was…gasp…a WHINER.

Yes, a snivelling, grovelling little turd that exists only by the kindness of others. The very thought of it starts my eye a-twitchin’. As if the random murders, monstrous beasts, and companionship of Death were not enough in this land, I have to put up with a Whiner.

“Kwip, that golem’s mine!”
“Hey, can someone buff me?”
“Argh! I’ve got more vitae now!”
“No, let me get that monster! I want it!”
“MINE!!!!”

Sigh. And the worse thing is that I couldn’t ID him. If there’s one thing I hate more than Whiners, it’s throwing myself at a Whiner and dying at their hands. Not only do you get more vitae, but then you have to listen to stuff like:
“Hey! What’d you do that for!”
“Kwip’s a PK!”
“I’m going to put you on my guild’s/fellows/lovers KOS+L list!”
“That’ll teach you to attack me!”

The last being the worst, of course. With as bad as I suck, my death was a pretty certain thing. I don’t mind dying, but I know for a fact that trying to kill a Whiner and failing miserably not only gives them more to whine about, but frustrates the hell out of you worse than a scorching case of hemorrhoids on a long run.

So, nothing left to do but put up with the whining, eh?

Heh.

Yeah, I didn’t buy that either.

First, I started off subtley.

You say, “Oh, man, sorry about that, Whiner. I didn’t realize you were laying down there when I brought those 3 Ash Gromnies hot on my ass straight towards you.”

(Ed. note: yup, forgot this guy’s name, too)

You say, “No, sheesh, sorry, I don’t have any onyx left either. Eh? Oh, I know it LOOKED like onyx I just picked up. But that was just coal dust. It’s an alchemy thing.”

Then I got a bit more obvious.

You say, “Okay, let me buff you. Whoops! Damn, I didn’t mean to cast Lead Feet II on you! Stupid buttons! Oh no, look out – more Ash’s coming! Quick, run!”

You say, “Sure, that’s a great perch. They can’t possibly reach you from there.”
You say, “Whoops! Well, who knew Shadows could cast spells? That’s news to me…”

Then I’m afraid the excitement got the best of me.

You say, “Whoops! Damn! Stupid auto-attack! Oh no! Now I’m lagging!”
You say, “Uh-oh, the lag is making me equip my greater elemental arrows and attack you! Ain’t lag a bitch?”

Heh. Stupid people. Aren’t they fun to play with?

Summer’s Fun!

Another day, more vitae.

So there we are, myself and my stalwart companion Ozar, hunting without our steadfast companion, Phillip Ian. However, Death was still around. Although he wasn’t around quite as much lately – I’ve been working on the whole vitae thing. Someone told me that if you have none, you stand a much better chance of learning new spells. I think they’re full of crap, but I’m willing to give it a try. So Death and I had to have a little talk.

You say, “Death, I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Death says, “No, I will not get you a bow.”
You say, “No, I’m serious. I…I…I think you and I have been spending too much time together.”
Death looks shocked.
Death says, “But…but…why?”
You say, “Well, it’s just that there are some new things I want to try, and I don’t think I can do them with you around.”
Death says, “Oh, so now I’m crowding you?”
You say, “Well, yeah. Cramping my style.”
Death says, “Cramping your…? Fine. No, no – that’s just fine. I didn’t like being around you that much anyway.”
You say, “Oh, now don’t be like that. Baby…”
Death says, “Don’t touch me. And I’m not your ‘baby,’ I’m Death. The Grim Reaper. Just a lonely, lonely person, trying to do a hard job…sniff.”
You groan.
You say, “Oh, now come on, don’t start the water works.”
Death blows his nose on his sleeve.
Death chokes out, “No, no, I’m fine. Let me be. If you need me, I’ll just be back in Uziz, waiting for you.”
You sigh.

Death is so fickle.

But today Oz and I are doing the hunting thing, with a plink plink there, and a plink plink here, there a fireball, here an arrow, everywhere vitae reduction….
And then we get a new visitor to our neck of the woods. Don’t see many of them. But in pops this fella, Cunning Linguist, hereafter referred to as Doofus, as a white dot at the lifestone.

Cunning Linguist says, “Fucking PKs.”
You say to your fellowship, “Oh, he’s a PK.”
Ozar says to your fellowship, “Definitely a Pker.”

We’re so smart.

You say to your fellowship, “Danger Will Rogers time?”
Ozar says to your fellowship, “Hmmm…well, he’s level 28. I can’t imagine he’d be interested in killing us more than once.”
Ozar says to your fellowship, “And since it was a PK death that brought him here, he probably is hell bent on getting back and getting his ‘revenge’.”

So off we go, doing our little hunt thing. Sure enough, Cunning does his little recall thing and pops off. But very soon afterwards, he’s back, red and just crosser than a wet cat in a laundry bag.

Right away he runs up and kills both of us. There’s a surprise. But afterwards, comes a bit of a shock:
Doofus says, “I’ll give you back your shit for a red taper.”

Eh? Did your eyes deceive you? Nay, gentle reader! I say this unto you: yeay, verily art there those who art such schmuckeths, that they believe this is a good negotiation method. I’m somewhat surprised though; this has got to be an all-time low of stupidity that I’ve encountered. I can just imagine Doofus’ love life:

“Hey, if you go out with me, I’ll take that six-inch spike out of your forehead.”
Ladies, get in line now!

But back to our story: Doofus has smote us both, and now says that he will give back our stuff if we give him a red taper. Hmmm…tensions are high, time for a bit of humor to defuse the situation:

You say, “Hey Doofus, I have a joke for you.”
Doofus says, “Okay.”
You say, “Knock knock.”
Doofus says, “Who’s there?”
You say, “Fuck.”
Doofus says, “Fuck who?”
You say, “FUCK YOU!!!!”
Kwip falls down on the floor laughing.
Ozar is in tears laughing.
You say, “Oh, man, I can’t believe you fell for that!”
Ozar says, “Now that was just a shame!”
Doofus says, “I knew that was coming! I did! Stop laughing at me!”

Hee hee hee. I crack myself up, I really do. But this seemed to make Doofus a bit more upset. So of course his only recourse was to kill us both again – and for those of you who missed it, we still haven’t given him a red taper. And here’s an even funnier note: I only cast level I’s. Yup, I cannot and have not learned any Lvl II’s yet. BUT – I have a red taper I picked up off of some creature. Would I give it to him? Hell, no. He would have to kill me until I had nothing left to drop. And then I’d log before he could kill me. Sure, that would be dishonorable. But more importantly, it would drive him insane! Heh heh heh – oh, the fun you can have in this world!!!

So now he has killed us a couple more times. Our hunting partner, Phillip Ian, shows up. And Doofus kills him. By now, Doofus is tired of waiting for us to turn red again, and has begun drawing monsters up to kill us while we’re still white. Nothing new there!

Death says, “HA!!! I KNEW you couldn’t be without me!”

It gets better – Doofus now gives us back our stuff. But he’s now threatening to give us max vitae if we don’t give him a red taper.

You say, “Ummm…sorry to burst your bubble, Pop’n’Fresh, but I was at max vitae the first time you killed me. Thanks for playing!”

But then something clicks in Doofus’ head – you can see the little trail of smoke coming out of his ears – and he gets an idea.

Doofus gives you 10 Greater Lightning Arrows.
You say, “Oh, wow, thanks!”
Doofus says, “Can I please have a red taper?”
TWANG!
You shock Doofus for 25pts of damage!

Heh heh. Of course he killed me afterwards, but that was such a classic moment.

Finally, Phillip, who was never on that good of a basis with Death in the first place, decides he’s had enough. He gives Doofus the tapers, Doofus gives him back our stuff, then leaves. But Phillip is not without friends in high places…a few moments after Doofus leaves, Phillip informs us that his monarch, Kile Thomsun, is chasing Doofus around Uziz.

Ozar and I are holding each other up, we’re laughing so hard at that. I mean, can’t you just picture it? Doofus pops into town, “Yeah, I showed them, got what I wanted, I’m the man.” Then he notices Kile leaning against a building, grinning evilly…

At this point, Blade Storm shows up. She’s quite a good trooper; very nice to talk to, never once killed me and asked for a taper. We manage to get our breath long enough to tell her what happened.

Blade Storm says, “Sorry I missed it. I wish I was here to help you guys.”
Death says, “Yeah, I wish you would’ve been here, too. Kwip’s bad enough, but now I’ve got to babysit THOSE two?”
Ozar elbows Death in the gut.

Ozar leaves, we make up some more jokes about Doofus, and then go about our business. A few minutes later, Doofus pops up! Apparently having suffered a decent beating at the hands of Kile, he fled back to his lifestone…but it was not a decent ENOUGH of a beating…

He runs at Blade. Blade stiff arms him. One shot. He’s dead.

You say, “Heh heh heh – loot his body and drop a couple of red tapers on it for me!”

At this point, we all collapse in a pile of laughter. Ah, summer fun! I proposed to Blade on the spot, but amazingly enough, not only can she drop idiots with one blow, but she actually has a permanent enchantment of Hunk-a-Hunk-a-Burning-Love-Kwip Resistance VI on her; because she doesn’t accept. Quite alright, of course – it just wouldn’t work out. Death is such a jealous bastard.

So all-in-all, the day wasn’t a _complete_ loss. I actually got my next level whilst examining my companions (it turns out that trying to snatch a glimpse of Ozar’s sexy legs under her armor is worth boo-koo experience), I gained a new found respect and love for Kile and Blade; I think they should get married and adopt me. We all had several good laughs at Doofus’ expense. And Death got a little vacation.

Death says, “Ha! If you can call 5 minutes a vacation!”

You sigh.

How To Have Fun On One Pyreal A Day…

Another day, another fortune in vitae, another conversation with my chum, Death.

Death tells you, “For Bob’s sake…would you just take like five minutes off from your dying? Please? Look at all the pretty flowers or something. Anything. Just don’t die!”
You tell Death, “Quit your bellyaching. Go get me one of those bows, bitch!”
Death sighs.
You say, “Oh, look, a Gigas Lugian! Watch this!”
Death tells you, “NOOOOOO!!!!”
Gigas Lugian smites you so hard Death goes a little pale.
Death sighs.
You say, “Damn, almost had him.”
Death tells you, “What?”
Death tells you, “Let me just get this straight: you drop your bow, equip a stick, spend a minute trying to cast a spell with same stick until you realize it’s not your wand. Then you panic, run around in circles, pick your bow back up, try to hide behind a SHRUB from the BOULDERS flying in your direction, snap your bowstring, eat a boulder, and you ‘almost had him’? Are you totally deranged?”
You tell Death, “Yeah, good point – this bow sucks. When are you gonna get me that new one?”
Death sighs.

And so it goes – I run around, Death comes to collect me, anyone near me, anyone who’s ever traded with me, given me something, /tell’d me, never heard of me, etc, etc. I was responsible for a lot of death that day. Whoops. Not my fault I’m not a satisfying enough kill for them buggers that they’ve got to go and bother the suits.

At one point, there are now two Gigas and a Lithos inside our little clubhouse. They’ve pulled up the ladder and won’t let us in till we sing the secret song.

“Oh, Lugians are the best,
they just can’t be beat.
They trod the heroes of Dereth
Beneath their giant feet.
They like fighting with a rock
Or sometimes a long stick
And if you don’t like it
You can get hit with a rock.”

And on and on. Hey, they’re Luggies – not really renowned for their song-writing, okay? What kind of artistry can you expect from a race who’s favorite past time is standing around baskets comparing their rocks? Anyway, eventually they let down the ladder. I climb up and engage them in a little friendly banter on the many merits of sandstone versus a good granite hill. Suddenly, I accidently commit a massive social blunder – I call one of the gigas “big guy.”

Gigas Lugian says, “Big? Big how?”
You say, “Well, you know – big.”
Gigas Lugian says, “No, I don’t know. Big like what – am I big like a house?”
You say, “No, you’re just, well, big.”
Gigas Lugian says, “Do I overshadow you? Am I here to provide shade for you?”
You say, “Well, no, you’re just, you know, large.”
Gigas Lugian says, “I got your big right here, you little bastard!”

After that, it was a mad scramble to the door. Boulders flying, axes cleaving through the air, me shrieking like a woman, the floor trembling under the impact of heavy footsteps, and yikes and away.

They gave a good chase; I’ll give them that. Even going so far as to follow me as I leapt off the cliff…heh. Suckers.

On the way down, we had an interesting conversation:

Gigas Lugian says, “Ha! No where to run now, little man. We reach bottom, you go splat. Can you say ‘no damage from falling’? Ha!”
You say, “Oh, got me there guys. Can you say ‘Death items’ and ‘Leave the dipshit Luggies at the bottom of the whole were everyone can shoot down at them’?
Gigas Lugian says, “Ummm…”

That’s it. A few violent impacts, back to the lifestone, then back to the top of the cliff with friends and lots of arrows. It was fun. Granted, the Luggies didn’t think so, but they don’t have any voting rights, so what do we care?

An interesting distraction came by way of A Gigas Lugian. No, not a Lugian, mind you – instead some person who’s parents obviously hated him a great deal at birth. Can’t say I blame them. Five seconds after meeting him, I hated him too.

In the midst of all of the Luggies and chaos, Gigas (whom I shall henceforth refer to as Doofus) attacks me. Examining him, I see he’s level 1. Obviously the alter-ego of someone more powerful, or he never could have made it out here.
Death says, “Yeah, but you made it out there, and you suck.”
You say, “Shut your stinking trap, you!”
Now then. The same old story that has been played out a billion times on every board unfolds: he apologizes, then attacks me again, I kill him, I kill him again, I kill him some more, he threatens me, tells everyone I’m a PKer, I kill him some more (Yes, he sucked that badly that I was killing him). I spiced it up a bit by taunting him.

You say, “Gigas, I O\/\/|\| U!”
You say, “Gigas, who’s your daddy.”
You say, “Gigas! Go fix me a chicken pot pie!”

He does his best to retaliate, of course, but it was really unfair. Him, the simpering gimp boy, me, the brilliant and witty Kwip.
Finally, he’s had enough and logs. About five seconds later, I get a /tell from someone else:
{someone else} says, “Hey man, just goofing. It was me. And you don’t want to mess with me.”
A few important notes here: 1) I can’t for the life of me remember this guys name. Karn of Charval? Something like that. If it’s not him, I apologize for the name smear. 2) Why on earth wouldn’t I want to mess with you? What, you’ll kill me?!
Death chuckles.
Death says, “Oh, now THAT would be something new!”
And finally – how pathetic is your life that you have nothing better to do than to annoy me? What, were you so destitute for attention that you had to be the biggest ass you could in the hopes you’d get to star in one of my oh-so-famous rants? What, THAT is the most famous you could hope to get? Well, never one to disappoint, congrats, sphincter-baby! You got the lead role!

This wilderness is no fun. I miss being raided. I miss the Little Rascals sneaking into town late at night to sell their baked goods door to door. And sometimes starting a lemon fight under the ol’ lemon tree! Oh, you little devils you!

So the road calls. I understand Uziz has actually been overrun several times since I left because I wasn’t there to defend it! I must return to defend my beloved little lemonade stand!

Death says, “Oh, god, you’re so full of shit.”

How To Be Annoying Without Even Trying…

Hi everybody! Yes, it’s that time again…
*drum roll*
Things that piss Kwip off!

Okay, there I am, once again – anybody guess? That’s right, Uziz. Another nite of joyous battle defending the town from the Little Rascals. I must say, I’m getting better. Out of the 23 lightning arrows I shot at Lost One, I hit him 4 times for 2 points, and once for a massive, crushing, destructive 15! Yeah, baby! Feel the burn!!!!

In celebration of this accomplishment, I created my own fellowship named “Lost Ones worst dream” I wanted to call it worst nightmare, but that wouldn’t fit. But the idea was still there. Or so I thought…

The raids are going back and forth for a bit. Bad guys hit the town, run off, everyone runs around looking for them, stir, repeat. I decide to try something a little different than my usual scouting duties or my perch on a building and pray to god I don’t get noticed whilst I plink away at the bad guys (I’d love to find a spot they couldn’t get to, a decent perch, but since their jump is like 6,000,000, and mine is like 10, I don’t think that’s going to happen). Anyways, I decide to be the clever little bugger that I am. I run off to Grevious Vault. Now, since I’m a massively powerful lvl 9 archer, the Vault won’t let me in (it tells me that I’m not powerful enough to use that portal, but you and I really know the truth – the monsters in there just can’t stand the thought of getting owned by a lvl 9 dynamo of barbed death). Where was I…oh, yes, off to the Vault. The fun thing to do, since I can’t use that portal, is to stand in the middle of it. Sneaky, sneaky, my red dot is covered on the radar. Now I’m laying in wait for bad guys.

Ambicitos Flaw (or something like that, can’t remember) comes up, we chat a bit, and he puts some uber buffs on my bow. HOOO-YAH. Now I’m PRAYING for Our Gang to show up. But, being the impatient little snot I am, I can’t stand sitting still. I decide to check out town.

I come into town, and cruise on over to the armory. Suddenly, a voice rings out:

“Kwip’s a PK!”

Hmmm….. “I am?” People are now staring. “Ummm…no I’m not.”
“Oh, sorry – someone else had your name and they were a PK.”

Oh. For those of you who don’t speak idiot, allow me to translate:

“I’m an alarmist idiot, desperately trying to be cool by drawing focus off of myself to a sexy, svelt, cool, frood archer-type fella. And I’m a terrible liar.”

No biggy, no harm done, I continue on my merry way. Nothing at the meeting hall. Nobody portaling in. Check of the listening post outside town. Empty.

Looks like another dull nite….back to town.

I step foot in town. Dum-de-dum-de-doo. Any bad guys here? Nope, just people taking up defensive positions. A few people greet me. My fame is spreading! I am loved!

“So-and-so casts Imperil III on you!”

Erk! When you are basking in feelings of love and acceptance, getting Imp III cast on you is the equivalant of running joyfully down a hill at nite and encountering an unexpected clothes line at neck level.

This wasn’t a PK attack. I could see the person attacking me, sitting on top of a tent. Well, he sees that I’m not attacking, merely looking at him. He also notices that no one else is leaping to attack me. He’ll get the message.

“So-and-so casts Fire Vuln III on you.”

Sigh.

“Ummm…sparky? Don’t you think you should save those spells for bad guys?”

No answer. I watch, somewhat amused, as he knocks a fire arrow, and launches it at my head. I continue to watch in amazement as it buries itself in my forehead.

“So-and-so kills you so hard the Lifestone flinches.”

So there I am, back at the lifestone, and who else is there? EB, Lost One, and Graveborn. Do I leap to attack? Do I immediately lend assistance to my fellow defenders, you ask?

No.

See, I just got PK’d. Now I’m a white dot. I can do nothing except watch as the battle ebbs and flows before me. Finally, the parties split, everyone chasing after their favorite bad guy. I wander after Lost One, because, well, he and I go way back. Back to 5% vitae, that is.

I come over the hill, and there is the stalwart town defender. Mr. So-and-so (I’m not changing his name to protect his stupidity, mind you – I’m just that bad with names. It was Baeklezorn or something – one of those names that’s so damn difficult to remember, you can’t send them a private message after they do something so completely stupid drudges are embarressed to associate with them).

“Okay, just so we’re clear here, I am not a PK.”
“You should stay clear of town during a raid.”
“Ah – never mind that I was there to defend it.”
“Your fellowship name is confusing.”
That’s the “Lost Ones worst dream” thing, remember?
“Go get your body. I didn’t loot it.”
“How very gracious of you.”

No, I’m not a very good sport. If there’s one thing I hate (which is a lie, there’s millions of things I hate, ranging from eye boogers to the way my butt looks in Sho robes), it is stupidity. But stupid actions don’t necessarily make one stupid; no, even the best of us fall prey to Stupidity VI every once in a while. But to KNOW you did something stupid – to then attempt to justify it and refuse to apologize for it, seeking instead to blame the other person – screw that, to blame ME?

You’re an idiot. I hope the Tremendous Monogua comes through town, doing the new streaking thing monsters seem so keen on, and decides to use you as his anal reamer (just made that up, lovely graphical image, don’cha think?).

Unfortunately, I suck. If I didn’t suck, I would make it a routine habit to hunt you down and have violent intercourse with your skull.

Now, this is not a broad generalization towards Antis. Not at all. Many of them are still the coolest froods I ever sassed. Frost Gunner, Zang, Kalista (er…or something close), Wiked Twist, Ambicitos Flaw, and several others are most cool. I am not going to run out and join EB’s new monarchy, much to his dismay, I’m sure.

But some Antis could do with a bit of thinking. Okay – the town is under attack. Someone you don’t know is running into town. Imp them. Nothing. Other people in town greet them by name. Vuln them. Still nothing. AT THIS POINT: the logic circuit should kick in – “Gee, if this person was a PKer, then why aren’t they attacking anyone? In fact, now that I’ve cast two spells on them and equipped a bow, maybe I should wait a sec to see what they do!” And then, if your battle reflexes are just too high strung and you DO kill them with one hit because you’re a superstar and they suck:

APOLOGIZE, YOU SHRETH SHIT-STAIN!!!!!!!

That way, someone whose ass you can easily own but is vastly superior at verbal barbs doesn’t have to take time out of their busy schedule to tell the world what a dysfunctional brain-damaged drudge you are!!!!!!!!

And So It Begins…

So there I am, hunting in one of my favorite spots overlooking Uziz, and I see a red dot approaching. A little quicker on the uptake than usual, I ID it.

Lost One.

Sigh.

I immediately take off, because I know the steps in this dance. I have time to mutter, “Not again…” Then I realize…wait a sec, I’m gonna die anyways. So I turn to face him, to fire off at least one dying shot. I notice I’m doing a weird little bounce-dance caused by that evil enchantress, the Laq Queen. But I plow forward to give my dying effort towards at least wounding Lost One.

“Your shot has misfired!”
“Kwip slashes you for 12 points of damage!”

Sigh…not only was I about to die at Lost One’s hands (again), but I was in such a panic, I had to shoot myself in the foot, too….yes, I died. Yes, Lost One and Co. raided Uziz, killing people and (I think?) then getting killed themselves.

Fast forward…

Last nite, doing my favorite thing. But then I put down the Ben & Jerry’s and turn my attention back to the game to notice that everyone in town is talking about Lost One. It seems he’s headed our way. And since he rarely travels alone…

Buff buff buff! we all say! Gotta give the evil PKs a beatdown today!

“Hey, Kwip, what’s going on?”
“Don’t know – someone said something about Lost One coming to town.”
“Oh, I better clear out then – no way I can handle those guys. Hey, you looking for a patron?”

Honestly, do you people just gather together to drive me insane? Is this some insidious plot to deprive me of the remaining quivering sanity cells lurking in my head? Pop quiz, asshole – if I’m a lowly lvl 9 archer, hell bent on defending the town simply because…well, because I like shopping there without having to be more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs…anyway, if I’m standing there in all my lvl 9 glory, well aware that I’m about to die, but standing determined nonetheless in the hopes that MAYBE I’ll actually land a hit for a massive 15 points that will help put down a bad guy – do you think I’m going to drop to one knee before you prior to your running chicken shit out of town simply because you’ve got phat lewt for me?

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

must…kill…everyone…..

A few swigs of my Anti-Psychotic potion (TM), and I’m back to defending the town.

Sure enough, we rally to the point where we’re positive the bad guys are going to pop up, weapons at the ready.

And of course, while we’re standing there, the bad guys pop up in town and cleave a path through everyone…

Back to town we go (actually, back to town I go – everyone else wants to come in ‘as a group’ – ‘it’ll look better that way’ they say…sigh) so I get to arrive as the vanguard of the force. Right away I pick out Lost One. Mostly ’cause he’s wearing a necklace made up of my ears. Everyone else gives chase to EB, but I head up the hill after Lost One with another archer. Lost One notices us. He immediately kills the other archer, but as a sign of contempt, ignores me as I pluck away at him. In fact, as I sit there plinking at him like Thelonius Monk on a keyboard, he lays down, takes a nap, makes a cup of coffee, reads the morning paper, does the crossword puzzle (in pen, I might add), relieves himself in my general direction, and then runs off, leaving me in the dust.

Sigh. Some days it’s not easy being a great and powerful archer.

Well, finally, there were some more small skirmishes in town. The night ended for me when Lost One came charging into town, obviously a victim of the Lag Queen. How did I know? Well, call me kooky, but I’ve taken it as a good sign of evil enchantment if you see someone running full-tilt in a corner. Especially when they’re getting attacked.

So of course, Lost One died. But it was a hollow victory – after all the bloodshed he had caused, it would’ve been so much more enjoyable had he gone down swinging. Actually, it would have been more enjoyable had he gone down full of so many of my arrows he looked like a porcupine and sobbing weakly, “Oh, Kwip, you are the greatest warrior ever, I am not worthy to lick your shoes…here, take this 112% bow and Matty robe off my carcass that I am not worthy to wield…”

Ah, sweet dreams…

On a completely unrelated note, it was really a kooky nite last nite (Little Rascal antics aside) – in the begginning of the nite, for no reason at all, a skeleton came charging into town. He wasn’t following anyone, and didn’t seem to have any real purpose there. He tried to go into the seamstresses’ tent (don’t blame him – I certainly wouldn’t want to be running around with all my bones hanging out). Of course, he was quickly killed by the anti-boners in town…(much pun intended). Later on, a skeleton warrior came running through town, also. Again, not following anyone or being attacked. I think the monsters have taken to ‘streaking’ our towns. Maybe it’s part of an initiation ritual or something…

But regardless, there we are, talking about how much we hope Lost One and EB come to town, and in comes this skeleton warrior. He stops briefly, seems to examine everyone, then turns to me.

“Hey, you looking for a patron?”

Sigh…

Oh, My Bad…

So there I am, in all my lvl 9 magnificence…doing a bit of shopping in Uziz. Dull place- Sure. But when you’re low level, it’s not a bad place to hunt out of. You can usually shop in relative safety (if such a thing exists on this world), there’s some decent terrain nearby that affords interesting hunting spots, and the women there all dig me. When I say I get the best prices in town, believe me, I get the BEST prices in town…but to continue…

I’m doing my own thing, be-bopping around, when someone comes charging into town screaming about Elemental Blast and Co. on the outskirts of town. This person says that they just ran into them south of town, so that’s where they’ll be coming from. Everyone gathers, holding baited breath.

Sure enough, at that moment, Spanky (EB) and the other Little Rascals show up (in this incarnation, the rest of Our Gang consisted only of Lost One and some other guy – Grave Born- Something like that. Kept talking about paying us back for all that we’ve done to the shadows – of course I’m lost, since the worst thing I’ve ever subjected my shadow to was sitting on it. Anyway, it was interesting mood music). Now, since we expected them from the South and talked loudly about it openly, the Rascals come charging in from the northwest (not the airlines, either). Myself, ever the vigilant watchman, notice them after they’ve killed a couple of people. I knock a few arrows, let fly, and then manage to fall off the roof from where I was perched. Still not sure how I did that.

But regardless, there I am, lightning arrow in hand, looking quite surprised at Lost One who is now right in front of me.

“Heh heh heh…Hi there! I just wanted an autograph! This- Arrow- No, no, no, it’s my electric quill (TM)!”

So after I find myself at the Lifestone, back to town I charge. At this point, I notice some others milling around sheepishly outside of town. I continue past them, wondering what they’re still doing outside of town. As I get into town, I discover that the Little Rascals are still in town, thus making folks a bit leery about returning. It seems the thing to do in this case is to run into town, get what loot is left on your body, and then hide out on the outskirts of town.

Well, thing to do unless you’re a powerful lvl 9 archer! “Ha ha ha! Tally ho, the hunts afoot!” I cry as I feel Bael’zhorn’s (or however you spell that nut’s name) power flow through me once again. At least, that’s what I meant to cry. What I actually cried was, “Ha ha URK!!!!!…”

“Lost One smites you so hard even the Lifestone flinches!”

Well, that’s because the Lifestone is a candy-ass, whereas I’m a powerful lvl 9 Lifestone magnet! Errrr…archer. So I return to town, again, find my body, again, feel Whatsisnames power surge through me, again, and then I see all the powerful Antis show up. At this point, I’ve got Kalista on my side. At least, I think that’s what her name is…terrible with names, don’t ya know…anyway, there is much talking about where the Rascals are now. Kalista and I, both being about the same level and incredibly powerful, decide to scout for the enemy.

Off we go! To the meeting hall, to the hill, to the store for a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, then back to town. Where there is no action.

And as the exciting climax for this tale….I’m afraid there is none. I spent the rest of the night driving off people who wanted to be my patron:”Hey! Looking for a patron- I can get you tons of loot and help you powerlevel!”
“Nah, thanks. But you can help me level just to be a nice guy…”
No answer.

“Hey Kwip. You should join our allegiance. We’ve got TONS of shit for archers!”
“Ummm…no, thanks.”
“Are you Anti-”
“No, I’m Kwip.”
“Yeah, but are you Anti-PKer-”
“See above.”
“Smartass.”
“Quite brilliant ass, actually. It’s the brain that’s an imbecile.”

Sometimes I just crack myself up…

And this went on and on…I must say, I felt rather important. I would’ve felt more important if people were trying to recruit me because I was such a great archer or because I valiantly stayed and fought for Uziz because I didn’t like the odds stacked against the few people left defending it, or because when EB and friends attacked I didn’t hesitate or flee, even though I knew I was gonna die.

But mostly people sought me out just -cause I’m a number.

And nobody even asked if I was a good dancer…

It wouldn’t have been so bad, if the people actually tried to get to know me (like Kalista, she’s helped me tons of times and never asked a thing in return); but mostly they just saw a warm body.

So yes, I have attacked PKers simply because they were PKers. I’ve also attacked people just for pissing me off with their utter stupidity (when I first started, I actually found someone macroing in a dungeon. Anyone want to guess how many times you can kill someone when they’re macroing- After the first time, it’s pretty easy…the fun part is leading them off into monster-infested areas..heh heh heh – that memory still makes me laugh..) But this doesn’t mean I’ll sign up to your guild just to make your little size donut get one sprinkle bigger. And stop trying to buy me! You can only buy sexual favors from me, not my loyalty…

I wish more people would stay and fight when they hear a “UberBadGuy” (TM) is coming. Might actually makes things interesting.

And Spanky, you’re pretty pathetic. Raid a town to clear out the newbies but run right away before someone who actually might hurt you shows up- Thpbt.