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EQ Chronicles: Halloween

I’ve never really understood Halloween. The yearly fascination with the occult has always seemed out of place and unhealthy to me. But a recent change in my Bard’s world enlightened me to the season’s possible benefits.

[November 5]

I’d been reading on the net about a powerful new Bard mace that had been dropping in several zones overrun with the undead in honour of Halloween. I was disappointed to have missed my chance to pick one up, but reading Guild chat upon entering Norrath I discovered the event was still happening though noone knew how long for. So of course I ran myself over to a participating zone.

Rathe Mountains is a green and pleasantly hilly area usually populated with large and very wealthy Hill Giants. One can make a decent living in RM, if in possession of enough hitpoints to absorb the giants’ enormous hits when things go wrong. I was used to being a little cautious in RM as Bards are not that tough, and I’d died for my greed more than once.

Zoning in just after Halloween it was immediately clear something had gone horribly wrong.

Everything was still green, but the sky was a sickly red. Spine chilling female laughter echoed irregularly around me and the text on my screen told some vague nightmarish tale of misty forms and tortured souls. That was theatre and didn’t trouble me too much. What really disturbed me was the mess of player corpses, some obviously very high level, littering the ground at my feet. Something very nasty had this way come, and who knew where it was now.

As I stood wondering what the most prudent course of action would be, my text box began filling with messages from people broadcasting the location of monster corpses carrying impressive gear. All I had to do was be first there and the gear was mine. That decided it, I was staying.

Stepping gingerly around all the corpses I made my way to the zone mouth overlooking a shallow valley. As far as I could see alarmingly large skeletal dragons wandered endlesslly, at times treading invisible paths that took them beneath the ground and up again. Spooky. Between them drifted floating black spectres bearing large scythes, angry galloping black horses, and flying stone gargoyles. Here and there were dotted the bodies of fallen players. All the while tantalizing offers of free loot filled my text box.

What to do. Most of the mobs conned green to me which normally meant they would be easy pickings, but I quickly learned from reading the zone chatter that they were much more powerful than they seemed. There was also foreboding talk of something referred to as “BR”. Apparently it was responsible for all the corpses. That did not sound good at all. I wondered what it was.

I was still wondering when some panicked cries of “Reaver to zone!!!” ran up my screen. What?! Which zone? What’s a Reaver? Suddenly I was surrounded by enormous bones. My health disappeared, I lost control of my character who ran mindlessly toward the bones, and a very loud crunch came through my speakers.

LOADING… PLEASE WAIT

Standing naked in West Freeport where I was bound, I figured that was probably BR.

It turned out BR stood for Blood Reaver, a monstrous undead skeletal dragon who simultaneously dispelled magical effects while doing 500hp of damage to anyone in his near vicinity without substantial magic resistance. It would most likely put a fear spell on them as well while hitting for well over 150hp. Welcome to high level mobs.

It had all happened very quickly, but not so fast that I didn’t have time to get a strong burst of adrenaline. I was stunned and disoriented, but strangely exhilarated. My hands were shaking on the keyboard. Only one game had ever done that to me before. A group of powerful players finished the dragon off in my absence, but that didn’t dispell any of the danger I felt. This was great.

I later discovered the undead mobs were all but immune to magic of any kind, including my songs. The only way to kill them was to hit them repeatedly. Of course, they also had large numbers of hit points. That put almost all of them out of my league, so after being resurrected by a kindly Cleric, I skulked around the edges of the hills waiting for someone to yell about a Bard mace. All the gear being dropped was for specific classes and could only be used by them. It was also No Drop, which meant once it was picked up it could not be sold or given away. The only way to be rid of it was to destroy it, which explained why so much of it was left on corpses to rot.

Shivering and hidden by a copse of trees far enough away from the zone to be clear of BR (we were on nickname terms now) when frantic players trained it there, I waited for someone to call out a mace. I waited for an hour or so before deciding to take my chances with a group. This turned out to be a bad idea. Running toward the zone with three large undead drakes chasing me after a silly warrior had pulled them, I discovered to my dismay they also had dragon type spells. I died.

You still in RM? There’s a Bard mace on an Abhorrant near the Feerott zone.

A member of my guild grouped elsewhere in the zone messaged me seconds later as I respawned half a world away. Even if I was resurrected I wouldn’t get to the corpse in time to loot it before it rotted. I couldn’t believe it. People were saying the event might end any moment, and with it would go my chances of ever seeing that unique mace.

It hurt. It hurt so much I put off plans to sleep until I had one in my inventory. Damn you Verant, you found my weakness.

At about 5:30am the next morning after hours of edgy, thrilling play and more than one terrified run to the zone with BR close behind (and my hands shaking), I reached a recently slain Abhorrant moments before another Bard. He was none too pleased. I had my mace.

I only got two hours sleep that night, but the hurt was gone. It was also one of the most challenging and rewarding periods of play I have ever experienced. I still don’t quite get Halloween but in Norrath at least, it’s fine by me.

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  posted by monty · at 1:13 pm · filed under EQ Chronicles