UPDATE: Sunday, June 7th, 2015, TODAY until REBOOT
Still more tinkering! After seeing low low rates of triggering on all three trial days (only 6 attacks in 3 days it has been installed), upped the chances of a load AND more than doubled the potential locations that the ambushes can occur.
There are 40 chances that a smob group can be ambushed within this reboot. LS/SS smobbers starting any time between now and reboot may discover this evil lurking behind them.
Get out there and test this out, guinea pigs! So I can get the storyline moving again and stop fiddling about!
UPDATE: Saturday, June 6th, 2015, TODAY until REBOOT
See May 31 and June 5th below. Tinkering with this to make it happen more often, and be able to happen more times per boot so there will be more chances at the random appearance, and so they are spread out over a longer period of time, to accommodate many smob groups per same reboot. Still beta enough that feedback isn't really requested just yet unless there is a major bug, or a way to abuse loopholes. Do note down your comments, I'll want input later.
Have fun!
UPDATE: June 5th, 2015, TONIGHT until REBOOT
See May 31, below, Gycias' raiding parties are out broadly again. Rumor has it they may be appearing a bit more frequently and aggressively.
UPDATE: May 31, 2015, TODAY ONLY
LS/SS Smobbers might find that they are being harried and flanked by Gycias’ men today. Kill them. Remember the Militant darkfriend heads and the blue slate fragments are worth something to the broker in Four Kings. The harrying forces and will hit seemingly at random.
Anyone who has been keeping track: yes the qps issued for items has dropped since day one (last Sunday). This is due to unanticipated increased numbers of items that I want to load. Many many qps can be found, but in small increments so they can be split among questers as you see fit. This entire quest series is an experiment in delivering fun action and story, including rewards, but distributed in smaller, sustainable, shareable amounts. Eventually I will want feedback. Enjoy!
Scroll down to see Incursion: Chapter 1, and Chapter 2 if you are interested in the backstory.
Original Instructions:
The Incursion has begun.
Gycias Tarova, the dreadguard who-would-be-Chosen has returned and will do what it takes to create a base of operations in Light controlled territory. Saboteurs have been sent ahead and take on the guise of ordinary people everywhere. They strike randomly, infrequently but enough to disrupt trade and strike terror.
Expect them to appear alone or with small squads of Militant-darkfriend lead troops. Expect the saboteurs to carry blue slate fragments, though many have fallen or been captured, so some fragments may be in the hands of others (smobs).
The firsts strike (mobraid) occurred last night (see below), with Caemlyn left damaged but mostly intact due to the rapid response of defenders from all parts of the world. Whether or not that strike was considered a success depends on who you talk to.
The blue slate fragments, heads of saboteurs and militant darkfriends will all be rewarded for by the broker. Since it is in the best interest of all who oppose the Shadow to stop these incursions, all non-Dark clanned and unclanned characters can receive rewards for these items.
Raids, incursions, and fragment loads will happen sporadically during this week. Updates to the storyline will appear in this thread.
Die puny humans.
Continuing* quest: Incursion (June 7 Update)
Re: Continuing* quest: Incursion
Incursion
Chapter One
The young woman stood atop a guard tower, hands covered in the blood of the archer she had just garrotted with his own bowstring. She scanned over southern Caemlyn, noting trails of smoke rising into the air from fires which would hopefully continue to burn into the night. The clashing of metal, the battle cries, and the screams of those being slaughtered had softened into the pleasant music of moans from the dying.
As lovely as this sound was to her ears, the bloodied woman only felt anger. She knew this incursion was only to probe the defenses of Andor, she knew the militants would die, but her sister… they were supposed to escape together. She removed her pack, reaching in to assess by touch alone how many vials and what supplies she still had. Enough to continue the havok into the countryside, but alone, alone without Caerla.
She had watched helplessly from a nearby rooftop as the Gaidin Dean and his witch Hope, and all of the assembled defenders who had come to the aid of Andor had struck her poor innocent sister down, cutting her head brutally off, and splitting her possessions among themselves. Bastards, one and all, who call themselves heros.
Fingering a fragment of slate in her pocket, Ianna dropped from the guard tower and slipped into the Andoran countryside.
--- --- Hours earlier, in a place far far from Caemlyn... --- ---
Caerla stood, muscles tense with anticipation, outside the doors to her Master’s command chambers. Dressed in a pretty yellow pinafore and wearing her favorite pack, the one with the teddy embroidered on it, she looked entirely, completely, and thoroughly out of place among the rough, violent men.
She and her twin had always been small for their age, which meant they could pass as children when they wanted. However, when she was actually a child, it had also meant teasing, and bullying, and once her mother died, and her brother left home, it meant worse things. There was no one to speak for her, no one to stand up for her. Until the man from the Shadows came, and taught the twins wicked things, and now… she stands up for herself.
The rough squad leaders, militant, well armed and as trained as any mercenary army, were gathered with her before the command chambers. They towered over the childishly dressed girl, yet they shied away from her in respectful deference. All but one captain, who finally nodded in her direction, indicating that the Master would see her now.
Stepping into the command chambers, Caerla, despite her years of training, and absolute cold heartedness, felt a dread fall over her. Nevertheless, the young woman clenched her jaw and strode forward to stand before her Master.
Gycias Tarova, dressed in muted colors and cloaked in some dark, shifting fabric, was bent over a massive map that covered the entire table. The room was illuminated by a sphere of Saidin hovering over the table. The alabaster skin showing on Tarova’s face and hands was so pale that thin blue veins could be seen through the surface. He did not lift his intense eyes from whatever he was studying, and did not even speak. He simply pulled a folded letter from his pocket and handed it to the girl, ignoring whatever reaction she might have had.
Caerla unfolded the orders and read:
This is a one way mission.
You are to lead the shock forces through so that they can test out the defenses of Caemlyn, and greater Andor. The Militant's are informed of the mission, but the recruits are just pawns. I may send shadowspawn through after you just to create chaos in your wake.
Destroy any targets of opportunity, soften the defenses, but understand, this is a one way trip for the men. You, saboteur, are to kill and poison and maim, then escape, hide, and wait.
I have sent a fragment of the slate key with you. A fragment is enough for you to be able to send a message through a gateway, but not enter it. Your fragment is one of many that will be sent through in the coming week, with saboteurs and agents who will have missions of their own. If you can link up with the others, you all may return to join the main assault one week hence.
You must have many many fragments to be able to assemble the key to return back through the gateway. Over the week, try to link up with other agents, and if you have enough, the fragments will re-form into the key that will allow you to pass back through a gateway to our base. Do NOT let these fragments fall into the wrong hands.
Go, do my bidding, and I shall ensure that the Great Lord will hear of your work. -- GT
Caerla felt a mix of relief and disappointment at not having heard her Master even speak one word. Obediently, she turned and left his chambers, plans already forming in her head. Tarova was going to open one of his Power wrought stonework gates directly into the heart of Caemlyn for her. The men would follow her commands. The city, once her home, then the place of her torment, was now hers to wreck. She had never felt happier.
She strode through the militant squad leaders, who followed her down into the valley. units formed and mustered, as the raiders began to gather near the stone ring. Caerla turned to scan the faces of the men, gestured, and the gate opened.
Her sister Ianna had been on the other side for hours already, sent ahead with orders of her own on a lone mission: poison, taint, undermine, prepare the way. It would be good to see Ianna again. As Caerla watched the squads file through the hole in space, she had a happy thought. Perhaps, once the city was burning, a picnic in the park… there was a beautiful spot under the well. If only they can get that pesky Ogier to leave.
Then she stepped through...
Keep eyes out for surprise attacks! Chapter Two by Wednesday!
Chapter One
The young woman stood atop a guard tower, hands covered in the blood of the archer she had just garrotted with his own bowstring. She scanned over southern Caemlyn, noting trails of smoke rising into the air from fires which would hopefully continue to burn into the night. The clashing of metal, the battle cries, and the screams of those being slaughtered had softened into the pleasant music of moans from the dying.
As lovely as this sound was to her ears, the bloodied woman only felt anger. She knew this incursion was only to probe the defenses of Andor, she knew the militants would die, but her sister… they were supposed to escape together. She removed her pack, reaching in to assess by touch alone how many vials and what supplies she still had. Enough to continue the havok into the countryside, but alone, alone without Caerla.
She had watched helplessly from a nearby rooftop as the Gaidin Dean and his witch Hope, and all of the assembled defenders who had come to the aid of Andor had struck her poor innocent sister down, cutting her head brutally off, and splitting her possessions among themselves. Bastards, one and all, who call themselves heros.
Fingering a fragment of slate in her pocket, Ianna dropped from the guard tower and slipped into the Andoran countryside.
--- --- Hours earlier, in a place far far from Caemlyn... --- ---
Caerla stood, muscles tense with anticipation, outside the doors to her Master’s command chambers. Dressed in a pretty yellow pinafore and wearing her favorite pack, the one with the teddy embroidered on it, she looked entirely, completely, and thoroughly out of place among the rough, violent men.
She and her twin had always been small for their age, which meant they could pass as children when they wanted. However, when she was actually a child, it had also meant teasing, and bullying, and once her mother died, and her brother left home, it meant worse things. There was no one to speak for her, no one to stand up for her. Until the man from the Shadows came, and taught the twins wicked things, and now… she stands up for herself.
The rough squad leaders, militant, well armed and as trained as any mercenary army, were gathered with her before the command chambers. They towered over the childishly dressed girl, yet they shied away from her in respectful deference. All but one captain, who finally nodded in her direction, indicating that the Master would see her now.
Stepping into the command chambers, Caerla, despite her years of training, and absolute cold heartedness, felt a dread fall over her. Nevertheless, the young woman clenched her jaw and strode forward to stand before her Master.
Gycias Tarova, dressed in muted colors and cloaked in some dark, shifting fabric, was bent over a massive map that covered the entire table. The room was illuminated by a sphere of Saidin hovering over the table. The alabaster skin showing on Tarova’s face and hands was so pale that thin blue veins could be seen through the surface. He did not lift his intense eyes from whatever he was studying, and did not even speak. He simply pulled a folded letter from his pocket and handed it to the girl, ignoring whatever reaction she might have had.
Caerla unfolded the orders and read:
This is a one way mission.
You are to lead the shock forces through so that they can test out the defenses of Caemlyn, and greater Andor. The Militant's are informed of the mission, but the recruits are just pawns. I may send shadowspawn through after you just to create chaos in your wake.
Destroy any targets of opportunity, soften the defenses, but understand, this is a one way trip for the men. You, saboteur, are to kill and poison and maim, then escape, hide, and wait.
I have sent a fragment of the slate key with you. A fragment is enough for you to be able to send a message through a gateway, but not enter it. Your fragment is one of many that will be sent through in the coming week, with saboteurs and agents who will have missions of their own. If you can link up with the others, you all may return to join the main assault one week hence.
You must have many many fragments to be able to assemble the key to return back through the gateway. Over the week, try to link up with other agents, and if you have enough, the fragments will re-form into the key that will allow you to pass back through a gateway to our base. Do NOT let these fragments fall into the wrong hands.
Go, do my bidding, and I shall ensure that the Great Lord will hear of your work. -- GT
Caerla felt a mix of relief and disappointment at not having heard her Master even speak one word. Obediently, she turned and left his chambers, plans already forming in her head. Tarova was going to open one of his Power wrought stonework gates directly into the heart of Caemlyn for her. The men would follow her commands. The city, once her home, then the place of her torment, was now hers to wreck. She had never felt happier.
She strode through the militant squad leaders, who followed her down into the valley. units formed and mustered, as the raiders began to gather near the stone ring. Caerla turned to scan the faces of the men, gestured, and the gate opened.
Her sister Ianna had been on the other side for hours already, sent ahead with orders of her own on a lone mission: poison, taint, undermine, prepare the way. It would be good to see Ianna again. As Caerla watched the squads file through the hole in space, she had a happy thought. Perhaps, once the city was burning, a picnic in the park… there was a beautiful spot under the well. If only they can get that pesky Ogier to leave.
Then she stepped through...
Keep eyes out for surprise attacks! Chapter Two by Wednesday!
Re: Continuing* quest: Incursion
INCURSION
Chapter Two
The gaunt dreadlord Gycias Tarova was in his usual spot, bent over the massive map of the unconquered lands, studying every detail intently. He had a large old tome open atop the map, and was comparing an old battlefield diagram with the newer rendition unrolled on his table.
At some point, however, he had grown tired of standing. Seizing saidan, he probed the solid granite beneath his boots, summoned massive flows of earth and fire and reached down. Without even breaking his study of the map, he directed flows of earth and fire to force a granite extrusion directly up from the bedrock, only a few paces down the table from where he stood.
The floor fractured in a radial pattern around the amorphous, super-heated, fluctuating stone. The mass began to cool and settle into a throne-like shape. Gycias turned the page on his tome to study a new battlefield, not even looking over at the throne beside him as it reached its final form, carving and scroll work spreading over its surface. Although it had cooled to a solid, it was still radiating intense heat when he stepped over and sat down.
A carefully woven ward invisibly surrounded the dreadlord’s body, extending to protect the table and delicate maps and books. This ward began siphoning off the heat energy in the extruded stone throne, causing it to shriek, vibrate, and glow brightly. Ribbons of saidin wicked the light and heat safely into the air around Tarova, away from his body and the flammable map.
There was a sharp rap on the doors to the hall outside. “Come,” Tarova called, without breaking his studies. Captain Mereyen entered, hand on his weapon and looking alarmed at the sudden unexplained rumbles and shrieks coming from his Master’s chambers. He was singed and almost bowled over by the scorching air trying to escape the enclosed space. A backdraft of cooler air rushed in along the ground, and there was a few seconds of maelstrom in the command chambers, but the dreadlord, his map, notes, and book were untouched. Everything else was wrecked… Gycias did not appear to care.
“Good,” Gycias said, “you have returned, come here and report.”
The captain crossed the wind-wrecked room and stood at attention before his commander.
Drawing a breath, he began to recite the report:
Lugard was in shambles - not a smoking ruin, and habitable of course, but trade and basic supplies were seriously disrupted. Most artisans and shopkeepers had been successfully assassinated. Traders from as far away as Amadicia and Tear were simply bypassing Murandy and taking their wares to Andor and Tar Valon for sale by other routes. Illian continued to thrive due to coastal trade, but pirates and national rivalry was always a reason why land routes were important to the Illianer lords. The nations would not suffer greatly, but this was the setback hoped for.
Tarova looked up from his book, A Detailed History of the Trolloc Wars, “Did many of the annoying would-be heroes show up? Or did the incompetent Lugard Command kill our squads?”
Mereyen answered in detail, listing the pests, describing their roles as leaders, scouts, channelers. He stated that a squad of the enemy led by Isky-something had diverted from ridding the world of minor threats and thugs, bringing his group to help the Light. Another who helped was an Aes Sedai of the Yellow, Elyse, along with other Tower members. The Old Blood of Manetheren was represented in the mouthy Rhienn. Many others from many nations and clans showed up. As with Caemlyn, what turned the tide was the influx of outside help.
Tarova nodded, looking back at his maps. “Good, then that left other places unguarded. The others had time to sabotage and get into positions. Any report from the sapper teams?”
“Yes sir, at least two locations have tunnels nearly complete, we will be able to get directly inside the walls of many locations at once when you give the word.” The captain looked expectant, excited by the prospect of a full on assault on the enemy. These probing raids were strategically important, but there was nothing so satisfying as taking and occupying an enemy position.
He waited, eyes forward. After long moments of silence, he broke discipline to glance at what his master was doing. More maps, more study, Tarova was acting as if he were no longer there. “Sir, may I give the orders to prepare for full assault?”
“No,” came the murmured reply.
“Sir? Caemlyn is recovering from our strike days ago, and this trade setback, it will only keep them stirred up for a few weeks - are you certain sir?”
Gycias Tarova ignored the question. Instead he began to describe his next orders. The captain was to organize strike squads and send them through the gate ring to points around the map. Each squad was to cross pre-determined territory looking for evidence of these groups of would-be heros as they go about their business, seeking out criminals and rebels and hives of scum and villainy to kill. The squads are to wait until the groups are weakened, then strike and deliver killing blows.
Captain Mereyen immediately saw the strategy: kill these defenders while they are spread across the world and there would be less defense when Tarova ordered a real assault. Saluting his master, he turned to execute his orders.
As he exited the command chambers, he heard one last order from his master, “Captain, get someone in here to clean up this mess.”
Chapter Two
The gaunt dreadlord Gycias Tarova was in his usual spot, bent over the massive map of the unconquered lands, studying every detail intently. He had a large old tome open atop the map, and was comparing an old battlefield diagram with the newer rendition unrolled on his table.
At some point, however, he had grown tired of standing. Seizing saidan, he probed the solid granite beneath his boots, summoned massive flows of earth and fire and reached down. Without even breaking his study of the map, he directed flows of earth and fire to force a granite extrusion directly up from the bedrock, only a few paces down the table from where he stood.
The floor fractured in a radial pattern around the amorphous, super-heated, fluctuating stone. The mass began to cool and settle into a throne-like shape. Gycias turned the page on his tome to study a new battlefield, not even looking over at the throne beside him as it reached its final form, carving and scroll work spreading over its surface. Although it had cooled to a solid, it was still radiating intense heat when he stepped over and sat down.
A carefully woven ward invisibly surrounded the dreadlord’s body, extending to protect the table and delicate maps and books. This ward began siphoning off the heat energy in the extruded stone throne, causing it to shriek, vibrate, and glow brightly. Ribbons of saidin wicked the light and heat safely into the air around Tarova, away from his body and the flammable map.
There was a sharp rap on the doors to the hall outside. “Come,” Tarova called, without breaking his studies. Captain Mereyen entered, hand on his weapon and looking alarmed at the sudden unexplained rumbles and shrieks coming from his Master’s chambers. He was singed and almost bowled over by the scorching air trying to escape the enclosed space. A backdraft of cooler air rushed in along the ground, and there was a few seconds of maelstrom in the command chambers, but the dreadlord, his map, notes, and book were untouched. Everything else was wrecked… Gycias did not appear to care.
“Good,” Gycias said, “you have returned, come here and report.”
The captain crossed the wind-wrecked room and stood at attention before his commander.
Drawing a breath, he began to recite the report:
Lugard was in shambles - not a smoking ruin, and habitable of course, but trade and basic supplies were seriously disrupted. Most artisans and shopkeepers had been successfully assassinated. Traders from as far away as Amadicia and Tear were simply bypassing Murandy and taking their wares to Andor and Tar Valon for sale by other routes. Illian continued to thrive due to coastal trade, but pirates and national rivalry was always a reason why land routes were important to the Illianer lords. The nations would not suffer greatly, but this was the setback hoped for.
Tarova looked up from his book, A Detailed History of the Trolloc Wars, “Did many of the annoying would-be heroes show up? Or did the incompetent Lugard Command kill our squads?”
Mereyen answered in detail, listing the pests, describing their roles as leaders, scouts, channelers. He stated that a squad of the enemy led by Isky-something had diverted from ridding the world of minor threats and thugs, bringing his group to help the Light. Another who helped was an Aes Sedai of the Yellow, Elyse, along with other Tower members. The Old Blood of Manetheren was represented in the mouthy Rhienn. Many others from many nations and clans showed up. As with Caemlyn, what turned the tide was the influx of outside help.
Tarova nodded, looking back at his maps. “Good, then that left other places unguarded. The others had time to sabotage and get into positions. Any report from the sapper teams?”
“Yes sir, at least two locations have tunnels nearly complete, we will be able to get directly inside the walls of many locations at once when you give the word.” The captain looked expectant, excited by the prospect of a full on assault on the enemy. These probing raids were strategically important, but there was nothing so satisfying as taking and occupying an enemy position.
He waited, eyes forward. After long moments of silence, he broke discipline to glance at what his master was doing. More maps, more study, Tarova was acting as if he were no longer there. “Sir, may I give the orders to prepare for full assault?”
“No,” came the murmured reply.
“Sir? Caemlyn is recovering from our strike days ago, and this trade setback, it will only keep them stirred up for a few weeks - are you certain sir?”
Gycias Tarova ignored the question. Instead he began to describe his next orders. The captain was to organize strike squads and send them through the gate ring to points around the map. Each squad was to cross pre-determined territory looking for evidence of these groups of would-be heros as they go about their business, seeking out criminals and rebels and hives of scum and villainy to kill. The squads are to wait until the groups are weakened, then strike and deliver killing blows.
Captain Mereyen immediately saw the strategy: kill these defenders while they are spread across the world and there would be less defense when Tarova ordered a real assault. Saluting his master, he turned to execute his orders.
As he exited the command chambers, he heard one last order from his master, “Captain, get someone in here to clean up this mess.”