Chapter 7
AT THE FIRST TWO checkpoints, we got steamrolled. All we managed to do was wear them down a little bit, shooting down several skiffs and a corvette. Devastating, focused fire led by their artillery and a dozen raids annihilated our healers and supports, and a melee finished the job. We held out to the last player, but direct combat against such power was pointless. There was only one bright spot: after an hour and a half of carnage, during the battle for the third outpost, the Pandas dropped their guard, certain of their advantage — or maybe simply decided to go light on the ship fuel. Jumping via the Astral Plane every single time was quite expensive — I struggled to imagine how much ellurite a fleet like that consumed. In short, they didn’t come, sending out two thousand of their lackeys from the French, Polish, and Danish clans who were supposed to settle our lands. Evil Mook used the opportunity to the fullest extent. Playing the trump card of carebear militia that lay in wait, he skillfully divided the enemy force. A desperate battle followed. For a while, we exchanged one kill for another, but our respawn point was closer, and our enemies gave out before us. We retained the third outpost, and the restored magic shield shrouded it in a new dome.
However, the Pandas weren’t going to repeat their mistake. Everyone came for the fourth outpost — both the Pandorum fleet and their allies’ navy, thirty more warships. We had not a chance in hell, and Mook decided to ignore the battle. Instead, he suddenly split the raid into several dozen small groups that scattered in many directions and started harassing the fleet, which was busy destroying the fortifications. The “wasp swarm” tactics turned out to be surprisingly effective. We lost the fort but got a positive score in kills and even destroyed several straggling ships. Along the way, we discovered the weak points of Pandorum’s armada. Astral ships of various sizes couldn’t maintain the same speed and perform joint maneuvers, and our enemy’s coordination seemed to fall short. In any case, even I, with my lack of experience, could see that they were out of sync with their allies, often clashing with each other. The numerous lapdogs also seemed to be fighting independently. That made them vulnerable.
Almost as soon as the fourth outpost was taken, it was time for another important checkpoint: Dark, the clan castle of Enemy. Evil Mook told us that the battles for outposts had been a walk in the park, a taste of what’s to come. Compared to that, the castle siege would be a real bloodbath. Nobody was going to give up Dark without a fight; it was well-fortified, and our leaders had prepared several surprises for the enemy. I was assigned one of the starring roles in their plan.
Enemy had never been a large clan. The most they could muster was a hundred and a half, maybe two hundred people. However, all of those players were old-school veterans proficient in the dark arts of killing others. Thanks to that, they had managed to keep hold of the entire Okaeym, repeatedly fending off the attacks of numerous Japanese alliances. Dark, their castle, was just like them — small but defiant.
It was situated on one of the rocky islands of the western coast of Dorsa, on an insurmountable cliff overlooking the perennially raging ocean — a black fortress with three towers, their pointed spires stretching to the skies. Clans always tried to make their castles as unapproachable as possible, meticulously picking the best spots, and the Enemy were no exception. On one side, it overhung the waves, the tide gnawing at the bones of the cliffs below, and on another, connected to the shore via a steep hard-to-see road.
Silent, we prepared for the promised slaughter. More and more people kept coming in through the castle portal. I saw unfamiliar clan tags marked as temporary allies by blue plus signs. To my surprise, I recognized several well-known names: Gorgons, Chaos, Taiga, Red October — they were the sidekicks of Phoenix who had fought on our side in the Fairs. By my estimation, more than two thousand players came to defend Dark, which wasn’t bad at all. Evil Mook clearly wasn’t going to surrender the castle.
My idea with the Veils had been approved. Unfortunately, we couldn’t use them right away, as Borland’s nave would arrive at Condor only several hours later, during the tiny window between the sieges when Komtur agreed to lend him an escort. We also had to come up with a tactical plan of using them. Still, almost everything else was agreed on, including clan crafters producing more amulets via my blueprints and paying for the Veils lost in battle. Instead of crushing the Bazaar market with a sudden supply, I found clients for the entire batch — my own alliance. It would also demonstrate my loyalty to the leaders, earning me their goodwill, and bust Pandorum’s chops. Well, if it worked out, of course.
In any case, we would have to fight several battles without the Maiden’s unique invisibility.
“Guys, save the key pawns for now,” Damian quietly told us as he walked by the lines of Watchers on the walls. Whispers immediately followed, the players passing along his recommendation. This message spoke volumes: we were supposed to save our best NPC companions until the siege of Condor. If you lost a pawn in battle, you could only resummon it in 24 hours, meaning that you would have to defend your castle without an often-irreplaceable cohort. Mook and his guys would surely go all-out while fighting for Dark — it was their home, their castle, and they had invested a lot of their efforts and resources into it. We, however, were told to save our top pawns. What a curious case. Did our leaders think that the decisive battle wouldn’t happen
