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HC: Pacifist | Ch. 311 - Regional Event
🕑 Added 2024-07-25 17:13:05 +0000 UTCWar in Sapphira
#regionalevent #civilwar #factions #lindstors #slaveralliance
Poster: FinderskeepersPrideWinner
As you all know, an exciting city-wide event has just begun in Sapphira. The Lindstors have declared an open war on the other slaver families.
The FindersKeepers guild hereby announces their support for the Lindstors. If anyone needs any help joining the event PvP battles or needs a party, please feel free to PM us, even if you’re not in the guild.
Comments
DebrisFeverish: You guys are going down!
80sFan: I can’t wait to test my new Dwarven Vanguard set on you, you Lindstors bootlickers.
Re:80sFan: AquaMarine: Woah! You must be rich! You got one of those? Those sets are awesome!
*
Weapons clashed, and shields splintered on the 32nd floor of Sapphira. Artisans who usually felt comfortable practicing their crafts in the street hid behind barricaded doors as the slavers fought another skirmish. The street was the stage for today's battle.
Slavers on both sides whipped bare-chested slaves wearing nothing but clubs and rudimentary shields to lead the charge. Among these battle slaves were players fighting for one of the factions. Behind them, the core forces of the slavers shot arrows at each other.
PrideWinner slashed with his sword, and his team defeated one of the enslaved NPCs.
You’ve defeated a Busterd battle slave.
+10 Slaver War event points.
“Quick! Try to get a slaver. They are worth at least 100 points. Go, go, go!” The FindersKeepers navigated the battlefield as a unit, ignoring enemy players and focusing on NPCs. They were worth the most points.
PrideWinner from the FindersKeepers guild scanned the battlefield. The Slaver Alliance was severely outnumbered. Most players favored currying favor with the Lindstors, the number one faction in Sapphira.
Nevertheless, inside the city, numbers didn’t mean much. The floors of Sapphira weren’t cramped by any means, but they weren’t meant to house a war. The Slaver Alliance used the terrain, facing the Lindstors in a battle of attrition.
A Busterd slaver waved his whip, and PrideWinner lost a huge chunk of HP. “Ouch! So much damage.”
“Don’t worry, sir!”
Healing Ray!
“Thanks!”
PrideWinner kept fighting the slaver, sparing a glance at the chaos bar on top of the screen. He looked at the taskmaster’s health bar, calculated, and grimaced.
“Retreat. The chaos bar is almost full. The garrisons are going to send a battalion soon. We don’t want to be here for that.” PrideWinner wasn’t the only one making the call. Other guilds on both sides called back their troops. If players were caught when the garrison intervened, there would be fines to pay and jail time to serve in the barracks. The FindersKeepers couldn’t have that. They needed all the money they could get.
They broke apart, leaving only NPCs and daring players to fight, and headed toward one on the ascending platforms. “Let’s go to the elevator. Time to visit HQ,” he told his companions.
His teammates exchanged greedy, excited looks. It was time to hand in event points. As the platform took the team up toward the top of the city, PrideWinner observed a battalion from the Moon Garrison arriving at the battlefield and bringing the fighting to a halt. A representative from each side of the war gestured wildly, arguing with the garrison’s captain. The scene reminded PrideWinner of two football players arguing with a referee for being shown a yellow card.
“Pride, what do you think about the 82nd floor?” one of his teammates asked, drawing his attention from what was happening below and asking him to look up instead.
PrideWinner wasn’t usually the chatty type, but this medic had saved his life earlier, and it felt wrong not to show some common courtesy. “I don’t know. But I don’t see any dwarves involved in the fighting. I doubt they started it.”
“I don’t know. They arrive, and a few days later, the war starts. You have to admit that’s suspicious.”
Feeling he had done enough small talk, PrideWinner sighed. “I don’t know what to say to you, Igor. It doesn’t matter, does it? As long as we get enough gold, we’re good.”
Igor shrugged and looked toward the two adjacent floors, enshrouded in mystery and conspiracy theories. PrideWinner followed the medic’s gaze, observing the Lindstor forces methodically attacking the entrance of what used to be the public garden. Their swords bounced off an invisible shield no matter how hard they attacked.
“The Lindstors say the Slaver Alliance installed the shield. The Slaver Alliance says it was the Lindstors. What a mess,” the medic said loud enough for anyone else to chime in. Everyone seemed to have their minds on the event rewards, though, and no one bit the bait, leaving Igor disappointed. PrideWinner didn’t care who was telling the truth. All he cared about was the rewards.
The platform finally got to the 95th floor. He left the platform and headed toward one chamber dug in the pinkish rock guarded by Lindstor soldiers. They wore the characteristic black armor with a symbol of the family, a Lion lying under a tree. Entering the Lindstors’ HQ, he spotted a few other acquaintances. There was Paulie from the RageQuitters and Neo from the GoldDiggers. They acknowledged his arrival with a nod, and he returned the greeting.
PrideWinner opened the event window, which contained a simple list of rewards. He could exchange event points for gold, experience, or loot boxes. The latter included a panoply of things ranging from skill cards to enslaved horses and camels; however, PrideWinner wasn’t interested in those.
He exchanged all event points for gold.
You’ve exchanged 231 Slaver War points for 23100 gold coins.
As he completed the transaction, he couldn’t help but overhear Paulie and Neo chatting.
“You have to admit it’s too much of a coincidence,” Neo said.
“Even so, there’s nothing we can do about it. I’ve tried attacking that shield myself. It’s impenetrable.”
“Hmph. I doubt it’s a dead-end. The floors have to be connected. Come on. The dwarves are right under that garden! That’s it. I’m going to take a look at the 82nd floor myself.”
PrideWinner ignored the two other guild leaders. He only had eyes for the number of gold coins in his inventory. He finally had enough. Leaving the Lindstor’s HQ, his guildmates waited with looks filled with expectation. “Did you get it?”
“We finally have enough!” he said triumphantly.
The guild celebrated and rushed after PrideWinner as he returned to the elevators. The trip from the 95th to the 50th floor seemed to take forever, but the wait was almost over. Once they reached their stop, they hopped off the platform and headed toward the auction house. PrideWinner could finally purchase his guild’s first Dwarven Vanguard Set! The event was about to become much easier for him and his team.
*
Someone has bought a set of [Dwarven Vanguard] armor in Sapphira.
+200,000 gold.
Someone has bought a set of [Dwarven Vanguard] armor in Crownia.
+200,000 gold.
Someone has bought a set of [Dwarven Vanguard] armor in Hadestown.
+350,000 gold.
Roth watched the money roll in as, throughout the world of AstroTerra, different customers purchased the armor he and his friends had painstakingly created. The total profit made from sales to players surpassed the 600 million gold mark, but they were just getting started.
Lin bit Roth’s hand gently, reminding him to keep petting his head. “Sorry, Lin. Is this better?”
The kitten purred contentedly in response. It had taken bribes and apologies to get his kitten to forgive him, but not even the stubborn Lin could resist him after he activated [Fox Form].
A soldier stepped through the door, his red cape billowing behind him. His firm, decisive steps echoed in the room. “The general is ready to see you,” he announced.
“Thank you, captain.”
Roth stood up and followed after the captain into a room. Generals' office spaces seldom had windows. They favored staying closest to the heart of their fortresses so they could feel its beating pulse over having a good view.
The lack of furniture and the cold stone walls made Roth think of prison. However, book-lined shelves, the practical-looking desk, and the mannequin wearing imposing, spotless armor helped him dispel that impression.
The garrison general in Nimbus City had her salt-and-pepper hair tied in a ponytail. She studied Roth from across her desk with a stony expression. Roth’s orange beard, pointy ears, and elongated nose with springing whiskers didn’t make her cringe. Her brows moved ever so slightly once she spotted Lin.
“Leave us, captain.”
“Yes, sir!”
Roth walked over to the general and stretched out his hand. “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment, general.”
She stood up. She was slightly taller than Mel, but even though she was much shorter than Roth, that didn’t make her less imposing. This NPC was no joke. “It’s not every day I receive the visit of such an illustrious guest. Please have a seat.”
Roth did, noting that the chair, like the rest of the office, prized practicality and simplicity over comfort.
“Enlighten me. What business could a peacemonger possibly have with a general?”
Roth spouted the speech he’d been using in every garrison he visited. “Although I hate war, I also believe that life is precious. I and the dwarves have made these.”
Hearing the word ‘dwarves,’ the general’s eyes widened, her most expressive response in their meeting so far. One by one, Roth placed pieces of [Dwarf Vanguard Set] on the table. The general stood up as she inspected each piece of equipment. “Awnium and magnitidium. As expected of dwarven craftsmanship.”
Roth left the chest plate and the shield for last. Once he placed them on the table, she could see little else but the brilliant light patterns on the armor.
“These... patterns. I’ve read about them. I thought these were lost to us,” she said as her eyes felt the transparent seal keeping the light trap in a vacuum.
“Would you like to place an order?” Roth suggested.
The general picked up the shield and studied its pattern. “It’s good armor. It’s impressive what the dwarves were able to do with these softer metals. Not good enough for a ranked-officer, though. Our armorsmiths can do better than this.”
“Of course, they can. Provided they have access to undestroium or invicium. You and I know, however, that those metals are too expensive. Besides, you only have what? One thousand ranked officers in this garrison? What about your 20,000 other soldiers? They need armor, too. This is better than regular tempered steel.”
Even though the general wasn’t impressed with Roth’s [Fox Form], he could almost feel his overwhelming charisma arm wrestling with the general’s programmed stubbornness.
“What’s the price?” she finally said after a few silent moments.
“Depends on the size of the order.”
The general grinned, her presence similar to a tiger who had just met someone to fight. “Why don’t you make me an offer, martyr?”
“The price of 50 sets with light traps is 15 million. Two hundred sets without light traps would be 40 million. What do you say if we close the deal for 54 mil?”
“I thought you would make me an offer for the whole garrison.”
“You and I know you can’t afford to clad all your soldiers in these. There’s not enough money in your budget for it. However, you probably will want to equip one platoon, a sign of favor for a promising lieutenant. Am I wrong?”
The general sneered. “45 million gold.”
“I’m sorry, general. That’s too low. I’ve offered the same deal with other garrisons. Let me assure you that I never settled with such a low offer.”
“48 mil?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Why don’t we meet halfway,” offered Roth. “52 mil.”
The general stood up, her fists clenched. “50 mil.”
“Done!”
You’ve negotiated with the general of Nimbus City and closed a massive trade deal.
+1 charisma.
+100,000 broker XP.
Roth watched as all the sets he’d brought over with him disappeared from his inventory. He stood up and performed a slight bow. “General.”
“Martyr.”
The general returned to her paperwork as if she had just spent 50 coppers instead of 50 million gold. As for Roth, he walked himself out of the fortress. As he left the center of the fortress and the ranks and level of soldiers dropped, the awe in the eyes of the soldiers grew. Some even stopped to salute him as if he were the general of the fortress.
Roth ignored them. It was the combined effect of his 1000+ charisma, his different skills and, above all, his latest title.
Friend of Soldiers (Rare)
Description: Soldiers can feel your experience and inner strength, and they have grown to respect you.
Effects:
The military respects you more.
Conditions to unlock: [Friend of Soldiers].
To reach friend status with soldiers from five different different garrisons. {complete}
Roth checked how many armor sets were left to sell. Half of the original 15,000 sets they had made were gone. He had visited over 20 garrisons and negotiated with several generals. He wasn’t done yet. There was one garrison in every mid-tier city, ten cities per region, and seven world regions with garrisoned cities. He had 50 other generals to negotiate with and sell the rest of his stock.
If everything went according to plan, they were looking at an overhaul of 3 billion gold. Hopefully, it would be enough to enact the rest of the plan. It would all depend on how Lin and he did after returning to Sapphira.
Roth checked his notes and calendars. The Molympic Games would begin in a couple of days, and there would be a Table meeting in five days. He wanted to attend both. Hopefully, between these events and using the item Zin had given him, he would have enough resources to break into the top 10 of the game and finally break out from his rigged capsule.
Roth left the garrison of Nimbus City and ran over to the teleportation gate.
Comments
Cássio Ferreira
That's great feedback. Will keep that in mind in my next round of proofreading.
Cássio Ferreira
But the fantasy feel is also there, of course.
