Komtur: Stop. Attention! I have bad news. Look at the clan logs.
Balian the Raccoon: [censored]!
Evil Mook: Pandas.
Komtur: Yes. Just now, Condor was attacked. Three juggernauts with support. They’re destroying the dome.
Madman: We have the same problems. They’re coming out of pentagrams. Three...no, four border outposts were just attacked. Asgard, the Panda’s pets. Five attacks.
Crow: We’re clear for now.
Evil Mook: They came from the south. Our castle’s attacked, too, and four outposts at once. And it’s not the end.
Evil Mook: Sons of bitches! They knew we would be here and struck in several spots at once. Deal with the allies. We need to go back. They’ll drive us into siege mode!
Pandorum retaliated. In just five minutes, we counted more than seventy simultaneous attacks on various properties of the North Alliance. Miscellaneous messages from our leaders, scout reports, and clan log data slowly outlined the big picture.
While we were busy fighting Ananizarte, the Pandorum alliance that was expected to attack us here struck in a completely different place. Not beating around the bush, the Pandas used their ability to open Astral Portals to checkmate the Northerners in two moves. Key outposts and castles of the PVP clans came under massive attack. The magnitude of our enemy’s efforts boggled the mind. On top of Pandorum themselves, thousands of players allied with them attacked the south of Dorsa. They were snidely nicknamed “pets,” meaning their subordinate status, but in truth, they were veteran warriors who inhabited the cruel Netherworlds. Most of them spoke English and Spanish, although their ranks counted the famed 13th, Danish Asgard, French Federation, and even Polish IG. The all-out attack was perfectly timed. They had identified targets and performed recon. At the appointed time, the scouts opened pentagrams. In one stroke, the allies attacked the majority of crucial outposts controlling important provinces and three out of five castles belonging to the Watchers, Enemy, and Heroes.
Evil Mook: That was a nice move, [censored]! Checkmate!
Crow: Calm down, don’t make a racket. Can we open a portal there right now? We’ll lose some outposts, but we can try to defend others!
Madman: The scouts moved out, but they won’t make it in time. We’re trying to work through NPCs, looking for portal masters!
Olaf: Seriously, calm down! Yes, half of the attacked outposts are level three; we’ll lose them. It’s not fatal. Others will simply become invulnerable. They’ll reach our time zone. There’s still a chance!
Madman: Going by the logs, the Pandas decided to relocate all of their lackeys here?
Komtur: Yes, do you see the reports on the alliance channel? Mass deploy. It’s an annihilation.
Evil Mook: Veni, vidi, vici! Really, why waste time on territorial influence when you can simply destroy the main castles?
Komtur: We have to make a choice. We can’t defend everything. What’s the checkpoint for your castle, Mook? Condor will lose invulnerability in 26 hours.
Evil Mook: Twelve and a half hours.
I knew what they were talking about. The mechanism of ruling lands in Sphere was based on territorial influence granted by castles and outposts: the higher the outpost level, the bigger the influence range. If an outpost was destroyed, the province became neutral and available for capture. Still, it was a difficult task. Level four outposts had magic domes that, even if destroyed, automatically put them into siege mode, activating invulnerability that lasted for as long as the reactor had enough ellurite. The maximum duration was about two days. It allowed the defenders to prepare for an attack if the enemy moved in at an inconvenient time. On the other hand, reaching level four required tremendous time and resources, and only the most important outposts were upgraded.
In any case, this was disastrous news. The Northerners could never defeat Pandorum, even in one key point. We played in different leagues, and without powerful allies, we were bound to get crushed. Trepidation came over me — could I be the reason why the Pandas had set sights on our lands?
In the meantime, water completely covered everything around us. The Golden Fairs were fully submerged. I wondered what the NPCs who respawned in 24 hours would do. Sphere seemed set on giving all of us nasty surprises that day.
What came next was a real pandemonium, usual in such cases. The Fairs had been wiped clean, and nobody had any idea what to do. The respawn point was flooded, warehouse and auctions unavailable. The main advantage in fighting on your turf was the ability to quickly regroup, change gear, and restock. Many local players were soulbound to the city and had nowhere to teleport.
Chaos reigned over the newborn bay in a cloud of dispersing smoke. Hundreds of draxes swarmed around, killing constantly respawning players. Many people who weren’t part of the raids had died in the city, and they were trying to escape, dying again and again. Drawn by the greed, PK vultures flocked to the area, seeking to loot the dead and increase their kill rating with fresh kills. It was a slaughter, a bloodbath where everyone came together — allies, enemies, and neutrals. Going by the alarming scout reports, raids of PROJECT HELL and Heresy had joined forces to destroy the barrier and were approaching the city. The battle hadn’t gone our way, and the smell of trouble hung in the air.
Ananizarte was close, too, together with her legions that we had so easily routed during the first attack. We had no way to counter them, as all Fairian NPC factions had perished when the Sublime Comet struck.
Fragments of conversations on Courier made it clear that the Phoenix still couldn’t agree to either try attacking the goddess again or muster organized resistance. Our allies left the area one after another. The coalition assembled against Ananizarte fell apart before my eyes. In theory, we needed a
