It didn’t look like Alexion had considered the practicalities of fighting a war in AO. If he lost any players, they would respawn back at Grey Keep and would be out of the fight. If he lost any NPCs, they died permanently. He should have taken steps to better protect his NPCs, and he shouldn't have allowed the majority of his players to log off simultaneously.
Arrogant and stupid.
“How am I going to do this with such a small force?” he murmured.
He had forty minions, and he was facing nearly 1,500 soldiers. Obviously a straightforward attack was out of the question. There was also only so much his thieves could accomplish by killing the sleeping soldiers. A camp this large would still have some people moving around during the evening. It was only a matter of time before the thieves were discovered.
His fingers drummed against the rough bark of the branch he sat on, as his mind searched desperately for some strategy that didn't end in his death.
He knew that this was his chance to make a serious dent in the enemy forces. He needed to wipe out a sizable portion of the NPC army as quickly as possible before he was detected. If Jason could also slow the army by damaging supplies and vehicles, he could give his fledgling army another day to prepare. After this attack, Alexion likely wouldn’t give Jason another opening. He would post better sentries and keep a force of players in-game to protect the camp.
This attack needs to be devastating. I also need to distract them somehow and take out the wagons that make up the corral.
A glimmer of a plan flashed through Jason’s mind, causing a grin of anticipation to creep across his face. His plan probably wasn't going to work, but if it did...
He felt the familiar chill crawl up his spine and settle in his brain. It had been a while since he had a chance to see some combat. He hadn't realized until now how much he had missed it.
Maybe I am turning into a psychopath, he thought with a chuckle.
With a telepathic command, Jason moved his mage group to the north side of the camp. He then dropped from the tree, landing with a soft thump that would have even impressed Onyx. Jason began giving detailed instructions to his thieves and Night Children.
The thieves would slip into the camp and kill as many as possible while they were asleep. Their orders were to work their way forward quickly from the southern edge of the camp and operate in pairs to reduce the chance that someone was left alive long enough to sound an alarm. They should be cautious, but move quickly.
His Night Children were to sit in the trees on eastern side of the camp where the player “camp” was located. Their job was to kill players as they logged back in. Jason expected that when his thieves were detected, an alarm would be sounded by the NPCs and the players would begin to log back in. If the Night Children could kill a few of the players while they were logging in and were disoriented, Jason could reduce some of the player population of the army. He also had an ulterior motive in using the Night Children on the players.
He wanted to scare the shit out of them.
Once he had his plan in place and his forces ready to attack, Jason climbed back into the tree. He would need a good line of sight on the battlefield and the tree gave him a comfortable view of both camps. As he settled into position, Jason felt his heart race and his palms tingle. The icy chill behind his eyes seemed to freeze over. His eyes glowed darkly, as he readied himself for what was to come. It was time.
Alex is going to love this next part.
Without another thought, he commenced the attack.
Jason quickly cast Curse of Silence on one sentry after another on the southeastern edge of the camp. His thieves then took out the sentries in quick succession using well placed arrows. After only a few minutes, the bodies of the sentries along the southern side of the clearing were all swiftly cooling in the chill night air. Not a whisper of an alert had been raised.
His thieves then moved forward and entered the camp. They darted from tent to tent in pairs, slaughtering the sleeping soldiers. The thieves wreaked havoc, their blades taking the lives of many sleeping soldiers. Jason expected that the large tents in the center of the NPC camp were where the camp's leaders slept. However, he wasn't concerned about taking out the NPC leaders, he just needed to whittle down their troops.
What use is a commander without anyone to command? he thought darkly, as the icy slush in his veins seemed to throb and pulse in time with his heartbeat.
The experience and damage numbers came raining in, and Jason disabled his notifications. He could review the detailed information after the fight, but right now it was just a distraction.
Jason kept a watchful eye on the eastern side of the clearing, where his Night Children hovered on the edge of the player encampment. They were still sitting in the trees and waiting to pounce. So far, he hadn't see any motion from the players.
Unfortunately, the massacre in the NPC camp was short lived. One of his thieves was spotted, and a cry went up across the camp. Soldiers began to emerge from the tents and grab at their weapons. Panicked shouts filled the air while the camp bustled with confused preparation.
Jason eyes jumped back to the NPC camp. From where he sat in the tree, he watched the chaos. The camp now looked like a giant anthill, with the soldiers swarming to prepare themselves for battle. Since the threat had not yet been identified, the actions of the soldiers were uncertain and uncoordinated.
Lucky me. With the players logged out, the NPCs and I can have some quality time together.
He quickly ordered his thieves to retreat and move back to the tree line. Their shadowy forms danced through the tents and swiftly wakening guards. In the bedlam of the camp, many of his thieves made it out alive. However, as the ragged group approached the tree line, Jason noted that he was missing eight thieves.
Damn it! At least their sacrifice will help win this fight.
Jason began frantically raising zombies using the corpses in the tents on the southern edge of the camp. He chugged mana potions as he watched his mana plummet, but he tried to be conservative. His supply of potions wasn't endless.
The new zombies slowly stood up and joined the defenders that were starting to regroup and collect at the southern part of the camp. Some had lit torches, and the campfires gave off a dim light. However, the area was still not well lit, and long shadows were cast by the troops and tents. The soldiers didn't seem to notice that the dead walked among them. Jason managed to summon eight new zombies before he hit his Control Limit.
He ordered all of his thieves farther back into the woods, but he didn't retreat them back to the rearguard. Instead, they spread out and each climbed nearby trees, drawing their bows from their backs and nocking arrows.
Jason sent a short mental command to his zombie lieutenant. “Shock and awe,” he whispered quietly.
Soon he could hear the guard zombies coming through the woods, shouting with hoarse, mangled throats and clanging their swords against their shields. The army noticed the noise, and the NPC leaders ordered their troops into formation. They turned to face the southern tree line, clearly anticipating a zombie horde to descend upon them.
As the soldiers moved into formal ranks, Jason made certain that his newly formed zombies were evenly spread among them. He was visualizing the blast radius from each zombie, and a familiar grin was plastered on his face.
Then his rearguard began to emerge from the tree line at a run. They roared in defiance at the army. Jason could just barely see the commander near the back of the army. He was a tall man wearing steel armor. The man must have thought his army was being charged and panicked. He called for his troops to attack, and they rushed forward on his order.
Jason's grin transformed into a broad smile, and his eyes glowed. His mouth began forming ancient words in Veridian as his hands moved through a rhythmic series of gestures. Dark energy pooled and collected in front of Jason and then darted forward into the night.
Explosions rocked the army. Agonizing screams could be heard as the tightly packed sol
diers were struck by the shrapnel from the exploded zombies, severing limbs and leaving ragged rents in the soldiers' armor and flesh. Dark energy radiated in concentric circles from the zombies that had infiltrated the enemy ranks and lashed at the troops. Where the dark energy struck, skin began to quickly rot and melt away from the NPCs' bones. The explosions caused confusion among the soldiers' lines. Between the darkness and the unanticipated attack, the troops were disoriented and not certain where to run.
Jason quickly ordered his rearguard back into the forest in case he needed to retreat. He noticed that some of the NPC soldiers continued running toward the forest and disappeared into the trees. He mentally ordered his thieves to begin picking them off with their arrows, reminding them to stay hidden in the trees. His rearguard was ordered to end the lives off any NPCs that made it past the thieves.
He started summoning more zombies using the new bodies littering the clearing, making certain to summon zombies at irregular intervals among the mass of troops. Jason was continuously chugging mana potions to keep up with the rapid casting. At this point, it didn't matter if the zombies were controlled or feral. He just needed to create more chaos.
From the soldiers' perspective, it appeared that they were being attacked by their own wounded comrades. Jason saw a fallen soldier latch onto another's leg, tearing at exposed flesh with its teeth. Another ran his former comrade through with his sword and then decapitated him in a fountain of blood. Throughout the field, feral zombies rose from the ground, their eyes shining a milky white. They rushed at their former teammates, their hands ripping at exposed throats and eyes. Their hungry screams filled the air.
The sudden attack within their own ranks turned confusion into complete chaos. The soldiers became so panicked that they started turning on each other, stabbing randomly at friend and foe alike. The field was a mass of bodies as the enemy army destroyed itself. Blood covered the ground and mixed with the dirt, covering the soldiers and zombies in a dark red paste, serving to further disguise the undead.
Casters within the NPC army tried to join the fight with bolts of flames and frost that rocketed into the field. Patches of frozen and smoldering ground quickly appeared amid the battlefield. This only added pandemonium since the casters couldn’t distinguish the soldiers from the zombies. Jason saw more than one regular soldier engulfed in flame. Some casters tried vainly to heal the wounded that lay on the field, many of which were being crushed to death by the melee that was taking place above them.
The air was filled with the sounds of throaty roars from the zombies and screams of the wounded and dying. Metal clanged against shields as the troops fought among themselves. Over the cacophony of battle, the NPC leaders tried to shout orders to the troops.
Now for the next step.
With a telepathic command from Jason, fireballs ripped through the air on the northern side of the clearing. The balls of flame struck the wagons forming the corral for the army's animals, instantly igniting the wooden vehicles. He had given his fire mage one goal, burn as many of the wagons as possible. His exact words had actually been, “Set the whole damn camp on fire.”
Towering flames began to grow on the northern side of the camp, illuminating the chaos that raged on the southern battlefield. The flames spread, jumping from the wagons to the tents. The animals screamed and reared with nowhere to run. Their burnt and bleeding corpses were soon added to the mounting body count. Meanwhile, Jason's fire mage relentlessly cast fireballs at anything that wasn't already on fire. He aimed for wagons, tents, and supplies. The flames cast long terrible shadows across the tents and soldiers, kicking up a thick smoke into the sky.
The NPC mages turned panicked eyes to the northern part of the camp. Ice mages rushed toward the flames and cast every area of effect spell in their arsenal, trying to dry to dampen the fire. One mage began casting a spell that created a torrential blizzard over part of the camp. While this slowed the flames, it also struck other NPC soldiers, leaving them trapped in place. A maelstrom of fire and ice now swirled above the camp.
Jason watched awestruck. The ice behind his eyes seemed to crystallize as he watched the scene unfold, and black bands of energy twisted and crawled up his arms. The energy began to peel away from his skin and lashed at the air hungrily.
I had hoped for a similar result, but this… this is madness.
As Jason continued summoning zombies with frantic effort, the enemy commander had finally found his horn and began blowing it repeatedly. Sluggishly, his troops retreated back into the interior of the camp. Once he had the troops safely between the tents, the NPC commander began to return them to order and recreate their lines. He gathered the ice mages and had them work in concert to put out the flames.
Yet he couldn't bring back the soldiers that had already been killed.
Jason glanced over at the player encampment and noticed that several players were beginning to re-enter the game. A multi-colored tear would appear in the air, followed by a popping sound as their bodies appeared in-game. It was almost comical to watch their heads turn as they arrived. The same confused expression would sweep over their faces as they witnessed the whirlwind of fire and ice swirling over the NPC camp and the gruesome melee in the southern part of the clearing.
Without hesitation, Jason ordered his Night Children into action, commanding them to focus on the players that entered the game near the edge of the woods. He realized he was about to have a lot of angry players in the area in a few minutes and he would likely lose most or all of the Night Children. He could always raise more. Right now he needed to thin the player population of the army.
The Night Children fell from the trees along the edge of the player encampment like ghastly grey meteors. They landed on players that had been foolish enough to log off near the tree line.
The momentum of their free-falling, skeletal bodies allowed them to strike with terrible force. Their dagger-like fingers penetrated flesh and scraped across bone. In some cases, the power of their initial blows severed limbs and blood gushed from the gaping wounds. Once the nimble skeletons hit the ground, they began attacking with an uncanny ferocity.
The players let out shaky screams and cries for help as the Night Children wound their way through their ranks like miniature grey whirlwinds. The skeletons aimed for killing and crippling blows, leaping from player to player in a frenzy of bone and blood. Their small, agile bodies were gruesomely quick and they performed acrobatic leaps, tumbles, and spins as they rampaged through the players’ ranks. Their small bodies and dark coloring, combined with the disorientation of the new players entering the game world, made it difficult for the players to identify the threat.
Jason watched mesmerized as one Night Child severed a player's hand with its claws. It spun quickly, slicing through another player's abdomen with its bladed elbow. Leaping onto a third player, it slashed at his exposed throat. The player let out a muffled gurgle, and a torrent of blood erupted from the wound. Not a drop touched the nimble Night Child, who had already moved to the next target.
He had given them careful instructions. Their goal was as much to scare the players as it was to kill them. If they couldn't kill a player, the Night Children tried to inflict crippling or maiming blows. A player likely wouldn't die from a severed hand, but the dull pain they felt and the trauma of losing a limb accomplished something more important.
Jason wanted to crush their spirit.
His dark eyes turned back to the NPC camp and noted the hundreds of dead and dying NPCs that littered the ground. Many had been gored or were missing limbs. The screams and calls of the injured filled the air and meshed with the sound of clanging metal.
He glanced back at the player camp and noted that some of his Night Children were beginning to fall as the players regrouped. Then a blinding flash of light erupted from within the player camp, and several of his Night Children disintegrated instantly.
Alexion had finally made his appearance.
A golden aura now appeared ove
r the swiftly growing group of players. One brightly lit player was making its way at a run toward the NPC camp. Alexion was trying to move to help defend the NPC army. Little did he know that the battle was already over. The damage was done.
As the last skeleton body collapsed, Jason called a full retreat and pulled his remaining forces back into the dense forest. A vicious grin still lingered on his face and black tattoos of energy crawled over his skin.
Your move Alex.
Chapter 28 - Massive
Riley walked slowly through the NPC camp, her eyes wide as she surveyed the destruction. Nearly two hours had passed since the “battle” and a haze of smoke still hung in the air. Wounded soldiers lined the rows of tents, lying on makeshift stretchers. Many moaned in pain and called out for a healer. She could see that a number of tents and wagons were either still smoldering or were covered in a thick layer of ice.
As she walked through the rows of tents, images of the battle she had witnessed in the player camp flashed through her mind.
She had been lucky.
Riley had been sitting at one of the campfires closer to the interior of the clearing when the grey skeletons dropped from the tree line. She had witnessed first-hand the destruction the skeletal nightmares had wreaked among the players. Riley had barely been able to follow their unnaturally swift grey forms as they wove their way through the players that popped into existence on the eastern side of the clearing. She had sat in numb amazement as she watched player after player butchered before her eyes.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the conversation of a group of nearby soldiers. They all looked exhausted after the battle, but they had survived with only small cuts and scratches. Others had not been nearly as fortunate. Many of the soldiers were younger men in either their late teens or early twenties. However, one of the soldiers was an older man in his late thirties. A deep, jagged scar ran vertically from his eye to his chin. In contrast to the horror-filled expressions of the younger men, his eyes shone with weary confidence.
Awaken Online: Catharsis Page 33
