Drop him like he's hot!

The slackers grind

Finally, Desaya and I had found a suitable grind spot, to get our asses beyond level 50. Yeah, call us the slackers. Those that did hit level 60 in World of Warcraft one month after the rest of the core members. But hey, people play with my wife and myself for the poetic appeal and the sheer sexiness of the experience gaming with us, not for most efficient powerleveling. That resort goes to people with a plan. But back to the story, where my Barbarian, with hard nipples - cause it was freezing cold in that snow covered zone - bravely charges into the next group of mobs, so Desaya, being a Tempest, could aoe them down. Crackling thunder, the sharp sound of a two handed blade singing and the smell of burned flesh filled the air. NPC group down. Next incoming. It worked flawless.
Another slacking SUN joined, and the speed of the grind even got better. And boy, those mobs even dropped some significant stuff. Eyes wide, with a fat grin, I was standing over the dead bodies, blood still sipping down from the huge sword on my characters back. My brain filled with gold piles and the possibility to finally and foremost quickly catch up with the rest of the crew.

Just when the mighty Barbarian Stevesan wanted to pull the next group, we saw another guy approaching. The dude looked like a Conqueror, which would not have been the problem, but unfortunately he was several character levels above us, which rang the alarm bells!
 

Ice Giants in Age of Conan

"Incoming Player!", shouted our Ranger, who had acted the quickest, but still not quick enough. That guy did seem to know what he was doing and already had jumped our Tempest of Seth. And before the Ranger and myself could have gotten into his way, he already had taken Desaya down. That much burst damage from a Conqueror? It was sort of weird, but hey, almost 12 level higher then the rest of us fifties, all could happen in Age of Conan. My Ranger friend and I tried hard, but what to tell, we both dropped into the snow, seconds later meeting Desaya at the resurrection spot.

Man, that was frustrating. Finally a good spot in that half finished game. A spot I actually really liked and already saw myself at, with a few hours of good fights, loot and fun, and now this prick shows up, ruining my saturday morning. Boy, I don't like this. Being a pacifist in my hard - yeah, dont ask me what I do in PK guild - this was enough to cross the line. If you don't attack me, don't interfere with my busyness, and leave my buddies alone, and I am not in a bloodrush, I will not come after you. But if you are about to ruin my day, you better be prepared, as I am the one who takes it as a personal insult into the face of his majesty which must be avenged. Some say I have a god complex...

A reputation at stake

Anyways, curious little level fifties we were, nothing stopped us from riding back to the nice plateau we had being killing those winterpelt cloaked folks for the experience and their belongings. Sitting at the side of a quite rock mountain side, some ancient beings had built a few terrace like levels, underpinned by huge walls. Each easily 30 or more feet in height. Yeah, we already figured out that you can call it a deadly height, cause walking backwards over it while fighting, did show me, that arriving several dozen feet lower, face down in the snow, was enough fall damage to get me killed and on top kill my ego, as the laughters echoed through the voice comm, when I had to explain, why I needed a rezz. But as soon, as you had figured, that those slopes and cliffsides at the edges of the plateaus were to be considered in your movement pattern, it was again a great place to be and train your abilities. Guess what, the reason, why that level 62 guy came there in the first place I guess. Even when he already had outleveled the mobs. Or maybe they dropped something he could use in great numbers to craft stuff. We didn't care. I didn't care. It is a reputation that was at its stake now. That guy jumped us and killed us. Now it was our turn, even if we we were fighting against all odds, as 12 level difference made him almost invincible to our puny abilities. Our weapons must have been like toothpicks to his heavy armour.
 

The feared Conqueror

 

And there he was. Happily pulling group by group of NPCs, getting what he wanted. I could feel the blood level rising behind my eyes. He knew he was higher level. He knew he was high enough to not risk anything if jumping us. So he had played the bully and sent us packing. I hate being sent packing. And Desaya is not much different, already buffing up and preparing for the fight we were up to. The Conqueror stopped pulling mobs, as he saw us. Sort of surprised I had the feeling, that we really came back for more, directly turning in our direction and again charging our glass cannon and healer. This time we knew he was coming and his first burst was not enough to bring Desaya down this time. My Barbarian knocked him back and away from our Tempest and our Ranger pinned him down, so Desaya was able to heal up and get some distance. If the well animated Avatar of the guy could have frowned and looking a bit dazzled, he would have, I am pretty sure. Not that we opposed him again, which must for him felt like a majesty insult as well, as he knew he owned the place from a level perspective, but that we looked like we had a plan, to get him of his boots. Blasphemy!

The Tempest of Seth was to far from him for a useful move, but the Ranger seemed to be the next logical target. The Conqueror charged in, again hitting hard, but again hitting a prepared target, that instantly broke from his CC, followed by a special shot to bring some distance in between, pushing that plate mail tin can directly infront of my swinging sword, slitting him open for the blood letting with my damage over time spells. It felt like winning. Right, all three of us hadn't been into many PvP fights yet, but we had played together before and all of us had a decade of MMOs under the belt. Voice comm wasn't even necessary at the point. All three of us instinctively knew, what to do. Everyone kept one ace up in the sleeves, if it became close, as that guy still could beat us around like the highschool bully could do with the young ones in the sandbox at its kindergarden next door. And it worked. We controlled the fight and more or less sent him in circles from one to the next as you do when you pass around a hot potato. The only problem; That fucker didn't drop in health!

Beating at a concrete wall

We were fighting minutes already. By now, both sides had tried luring NPCs into the fight, to pitch the favour, but without success. And slowly, the concentration threatened to fade. One single mistake, and the snowplane bully of my nightmares would win a second time and I would bite my keyboard. Again, sending him flying, away from Desaya, as he had gotten his hammer against her. The Ranger pinned him. We healed up. And on the show went. But beside the fact, that our enemy didn't really drop below 70 percent of his hitpoints, our potions slowly but ultimately ran out. Without them, even a perfect ping pong with that steel ball could loose us the fight. One crit with his hammer, and our cc lock would fail. One moment without mana, and our cc lock would not work. Sweat was starting to come into existence on my forehead: "What to do, ...what to do...", I was feeling the panic crouching up my spine, ringing the door bell and answering to the question of who it is, that it was the moment of fail being at the doorsteps. Hello? Are you ready to get demoted a second time?"
 

Mountains are dangerous terrain...

 

"Drive him to the edge!", I shouted into my microphone. All that was said for the next seconds. With her last mana Desaya used her force-field-like pushback. A meager 10 feet. The knockback shot from the ranger followed. Another 15 feet closer. My barbarian chargejumped him. But the final doom was delivered by the Conqueror himself. He made another few steps back, maybe irritated by the spontaneous change in our skill rotation. Maybe he didn't fear the abyss in his back. Hoping to lure us down with him, killing all three of us in one go. I didn't know and didn't care. I just wanted to see that bastard flying. And for the fact that it was the only of my abilites not on cooldown, I pressed the button. My Barbarian did swing his weapon like a heavy weight champion would come up with a haymaker and booom, it knocked the tin can of its feet and send him flying, backwards, over the cliff. Out of our sight. It wasnt there, but in our imagination all three of us did hear that long stretched "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!", followed by a dry, dull sound of impact, a couple of feet of freefall later. A hilarious scene.

The sound of silence

Silence followed. Only interrupted by the pumping blood that pulsed through my head. It must have been ten minutes or more. It had felt like hammering at a concrete wall, just to get some grains of sand into our hands. And now our adversary was gone. Swallowed by the earth herself it seemed. Imagine the sun ticking over the horizon, second by second, in which our fearlevel climed, that it wont be long till that guy would run at us wildly swinging his weapon after he had made the climb around the cliff back onto the plateau, being pissed like a T-Rex who had no dinner. Finally we set foot at the edge, looking down. Looking for the reason, why no mad tin can was already charging at us. The tin can had dropped. Into the snow several dozen feet below us. Face down. All limbs stretched away, not moving an inch.

"Touchdown!", like an insane madman I grunted it into my microphone followed by a relieving laughter, in which my companions joined heartily.
"Man, he almost had us dry!", was one comment.
"My fingers hurt", another.

Followed by minutes of trashtalk, laughter and verbal signs of salvation. The SUN had brought down the mountain, a mere scattered rock, that was still lying at the bottom of the cliff. Even after minutes, the dead corpse was not gone. And we never saw him return, the next three days, we kept grinding there.

Knockback abilities for the win!

 

Stevesan
...running in circles since 1873

Category: 
Personal Story
Game: 
Age of Conan