Vol. 3: Chapter 7
It was just past 10:30 AM.
Inside Starlight Village, the event was in full swing. Players were engrossed in their tasks, happily grinding for contribution points. In the forest east of the village, a 10-player party, all around level 28, was clearing mobs for a quest from the lumber yard. As they pushed deeper into the woods, their archer grew uneasy.
“Ravok, maybe we shouldn’t go too much further.”
A knight holding a massive shield scoffed. “What’s there to be afraid of? We can handle anything out here.”
“Yeah, just stick with Ravok. What’s the problem?” a priest added.
“So what are you guys doing with your points?” another player asked, changing the subject. “Saving up for gear, or cashing them in for XP?”
“I’m thinking XP. It’s a great deal for anyone under level 30. Each point gets you 500,000 XP!”
“You’re right. Our 300-odd points would be over 150 million XP. That’s way faster than grinding normally.”
“Exactly, I’m going for XP too. I’m only two levels from 30. I don’t want to waste points on level 25 gear, but I can’t equip level 30 stuff yet.”
“I heard the exchange rate for players over level 30 sucks, though. Only 300,000 XP per point.”
“Yeah, that’s not worth it at all.”
As they chatted, a sudden commotion erupted from the depths of the forest. The party finished off their current targets and fell silent, peering into the trees.
THUD…
THUD…
A heavy, rhythmic pounding grew steadily closer. The wild monsters in the area began to scatter, fleeing from the sound. The archer, with his superior range of vision, spotted it first.
He pointed into the distance, his voice trembling slightly. “Ravok… look over there…”
The others followed his gaze. Soon, they could all see it: a black mass of monsters, marching toward them. They were clad in identical armor, their steps falling in perfect, unnerving unison.
Ravok’s voice was strained. “Oh no. That’s The WarChief’s regular army! Retreat!”
The ten of them turned to flee back toward the village, but it was too late. A squadron of Burning Horde knights on monstrous steeds broke from the main formation, charging them down and trampling them underhoof in an instant.
“The WarChief is attacking!”
The news spread like wildfire as panicked players streamed back from the frontier. Everyone, inside and outside the village, dropped what they were doing and rushed to the east gate. Overnight, the once-barren patch of land before the gate had been transformed into a field of defensive fortifications.
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Traditional defenses were in place: spiked wooden beams to halt charging cavalry, tangled felled trees to slow advancing foot soldiers, and fields of iron caltrops to tear through the front lines.
There were also unique, game-specific defenses: concealed pitfall traps, fields of vision-obscuring tear grass, and pouches of blinding flash phosphorus powder.
The Burning Horde army emerged from the forest and halted. A moment later, a massive, 10-foot-tall warhorse wreathed in flame stepped to the front. Astride it sat an imposing Tauren boss, clad in full plate armor.
[Vanguard Commander (Boss)] - Level 29
HP: 55,000,000
Physical Attack: 12,500
Physical Defense: 8,550
...
Players stationed in the watchtowers relayed the information to the crowd below. “Alright people, listen up! It’s a vanguard force! Trash mobs are level 25 to 28, numbers unknown. The boss is a level 29!”
A collective sigh of relief swept through the defenders.
“Whew, you had me scared for a second. I thought it was going to be something serious.”
“Haha, this is nothing.”
“I don’t know what you were all so worried about. How tough could the first day’s mobs possibly be?”
“Sam, you’re all talk! Weren’t you the first one to run back inside the walls?”
“You came back too, so you’ve got no room to talk!”
“If you’ve got the guts, go out there and fight them!”
“Fine, I will! I’ll prove my courage with action!”
Emboldened, many of the more cautious players who had retreated inside now ventured back out, taking up positions behind the defensive works.
The Vanguard Commander watched the humans’ movements with a contemptuous smirk. He raised his right hand, then swung it down violently.
ROOOAR… ROOOAR…
A regiment of orcs clad in strange, vine-like mail began a slow, deliberate march forward. As the players watched the enemy’s perfectly synchronized advance, a sense of unease crept in.
These orcs were disciplined, a true fighting force. Compared to them, the players’ formation was a chaotic, disorganized mob. The tense atmosphere of a real war finally descended upon them. Many swallowed hard, their knuckles white on their weapons.
The first wave was composed entirely of Vinemail Cuirass Soldiers.
[Vinemail Cuirass Soldier] - Level 26
HP: 152,000
Physical Attack: 3,300
Physical Defense: 6,350
They were slow-moving brutes with incredibly high health and defense. To the players, they looked strange. The armor wasn’t thick plate; the Vinemail Cuirass and the vine-woven boots seemed loose and flimsy. Their advance was no faster than a player’s normal walking speed.
“Shouldn’t they be charging?” a player with little battlefield experience wondered aloud. “What kind of tactic is this slow march?”
But the veteran players knew this was a problem. Most of their traps would be useless.
As predicted, when the front rank of orcs reached the pitfall traps, they triggered them.
Dozens of sections of the ground gave way, dropping the soldiers onto sharpened stakes below.
-8,820
-8,820
But because of the slow advance, only the first two ranks fell in. The rest of the orcs simply altered their course, walking around the now-exposed pits. Next, they stepped onto the caltrops.
-2,200
-2,200
Paltry damage numbers popped up. The thick vine soles of their boots were absorbing most of the impact.
The Vinemail Soldiers finally reached the cheval de frise, raised their greatswords, and began methodically hacking the wooden barricades apart. At last, they were in range.
“Archers, fire!”
“Attack!”
A massive volley of arrows rained down, but the soldiers simply raised the tough vine shields on their arms.
-1,005
-1,572
The arrow damage was pitifully low.
“Mages!” a player commander yelled. “Use fire spells! Burn them!”
-6,266
-5,589
Under the focused magical assault, the Vinemail Soldiers finally began to fall in droves. But with their dying breaths, they smashed the last of the wooden barricades to pieces.
As the final soldier was incinerated, the players let out a ragged cheer.
“Traps! Set more traps!” someone yelled.
But before they could act, a deafening thunder shook the ground. The players looked up from the smoking battlefield, and a new wave of fear washed over them.
The Orc Cavalry was on the move.