Upstairs Bathroom, Le Chevalier
Pressing down at the bag beneath my eye, I observe that the bloodshot look I had going has lessened significantly, even if I still feel pretty tired on the whole, but I attribute that mostly to boredom after a couple of days spent doing almost nothing but staring at an anvil while I wait for things to autocraft, sorely missing the ability to work metal manually even if it is at the expense of speed and efficiency.
Twisting my head to the side, I rub the side of my head, noting that now that my hair on that side is growing back in it's giving me a lopsided hairstyle which I need to consider correcting with a visit to a barber or something. Speaking as I am, from 30 years in the future, I have to say I'm glad that it's growing back in because I honestly looked like a tool when I was younger. I understand that it is fashionable...ish...here and now, but yeah, no. My tastes are for something more neutral than the hipster abomination I was sporting a couple weeks back.
With a yawn, I reach down and pick up my old electric razor and get to work on the stubble I've been neglecting for the past few days and run through everything we've done just in case I forgot something important.
To start with, all the people who are in immediate need of having their equipment updated have been suitably furnished with new gear thanks to my efforts and a little help from my partners in this venture beating their collective heads against Farmer's Secret whenever they're not participating of the hunting parties at Ujax Forest. Not that they were able to get much, admittedly, but every extra accessory will marginally increase our chances of success.
Our four new recruits, Grand, Morn (By her repeated insistence that I stop using her full name), Horizon and Olrica tagged along with Wolf Hunt to get as close to Level 15 as they could in the time they had - not all were successful, but Olrica is Level 14 at the lowest, so it's near enough that it's not an issue. Which, naturally, means that all four of them have passed their First Steps, becoming, in order, a Wizard, Manipulator, Ranger and Assassin.
Olrica is probably the least useful for this dungeon's scenario in terms of her Class, since Assassins aren't really suited to brawling it out with an ocean of feral dogs - obviously - while Morn is the most useful with her specialised ability to hinder large groups of enemies with one Spell. They're still all going to keep the balance between all three organisations relatively clear.
Next, Jupiter finally got back to us. Apparently, he had a similar issue to me and Jade, but stopped short of needing an ambulance, electing to take some strong painkillers and sleep off the headaches. Taking the opportunity to work through a big chunk of our stockpiled footage while he was at it. Still a little annoyed he didn't think to let us know he was ok, but we were all relieved when he eventually did.
It goes without saying, but I don't want someone's death on my conscience. At least, not someone who doesn't thoroughly deserve such a fate, and I've encountered enough irredeemable scum to have sufficient understanding of where my tolerance for others snaps, even if I've never killed anyone in Reality. As if that makes a difference, circumstances being what they are.
After compiling a comprehensive, detailed report on the local area and tactfully omitting the existence of Miner's Nightmare and Wolf Lord's Remains, we got him and our other spellcasters some better equipment from Zomn Klaeriss. The unfortunate thing is that her stock is extremely limited, so we can't use her as a reliable way of outfitting, say, several dozen other spellcasters. After all, the things she's willing to sell us are either things she's long outgrown or random junk she couldn't be bothered to get rid of which has accumulated for a while. We're not so close that I can get her to part with the truly valuable items, nor use her as a contact point for ordering in more.
Plus, as the old saying goes, one man's junk is another's treasure, so I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth when it comes to how much of a pain in the ass kitting out magical classes is without having WLR on farm and then also getting reasonably lucky. Because set equipment for most archetypes does drop from there, but the pool is heavily diluted by all the different possibilities. In the time it takes you to farm one full set you'd probably have gathered another two in duplicates and miscellaneous pieces from other sets. Time which would honestly be better spent just leaving Fander Field entirely and going somewhere else under ideal circumstances, because it isn't a short dungeon.
Olrica and Morn have both officially left Rambling Rose - as well as Kings & Queens Ltd by extension - as of yesterday after clearing the initial paperwork and vacating their dorm. Apparently, they're living together as roommates now out of convenience and to cut down on rent since, like any major city, Berlin is not a cheap place to live. Especially for non-student rented accommodation.
And that goes double for Berlin as one of the biggest, most advanced cities in the world. Paris is pricey, and London maybe a little less, but I shudder to think of what kind of expenditure they're incurring and feel more than a little guilty for my part in that. They assured me they'll be fine for a month or two, but Morn was obviously lying when she told me.
We're all in the same boat now. Not like I have a whole lot of money to my name either, and it's only going down.
"Can't help but wonder if I'm moving too fast," I mutter, blowing the bristles out of the razor's head and rubbing my chin, feeling for missed whiskers, "Too much riding on being ready, though. Short term loss for long term gain, Alex."
Boulder Gate, Meteo Town
As you might expect, a gathering of 32 moderately well-equipped people by the city gate draws no shortage of attention from passersby and market-goers. Not least because none of these people are NPCs affiliated with the Town Guard or Empire of Stone's army, in spite of the equipment many are wearing.
"What's going on?"
"Look at those prodigal sons and daughters..."
"Is this a show?"
"Isn't that Bronzeguy? Wait, he's not wearing bronze anymore."
"That was weeks ago man, what rock did you ferment yourself under? Go back, you aren't done becoming pickled radish yet."
"I feel an aura of money radiating off them. What poor sap are they going to beat to death with their wads of cash?"
It's getting a little noisy. Even some of the NPCs are taking notice, in as much as they are able to at present.
The group is split into roughly three, stood apart from one another and chatting amongst their own cliques. When I arrive, Mr Fathom and a tired-looking Silva woman also wearing full Vacantsoul I barely recognise break away to greet me. From the context, I assume her to be the leader of Sober Morning, Ms Erenviet Maclona.
"Good morning, Silver," Mr Fathom opens the conversation plainly, shaking my hand, "Been a few days since we last spoke."
"Indeed," I nod, then proffer my hand to Ms Maclona, "Silver Nosster, pleased to make your acquaintance at last."
"Erenviet, it's good to finally meet the talk of the town," she takes it with a wry smile, "Though, after this I expect we all will be."
"True," Mr Fathom agrees, eyeing the small crowd of onlookers, "In fact I wouldn't be surprised if other teams tried following behind us to figure out what we're doing with such a force."
"Let them," I shrug, having requested we meet like this for the express purpose of generating publicity for Truthseekers, "Even if DDA were to somehow conjure up another army of players out of what little they held onto, there's nothing they or anyone else can do about it should they be inclined."
"I can believe it," Ms Maclona sweeps a glance across our accumulated forces, "I must say, your help in levelling and equipping ourselves has been extraordinarily welcome. My thanks to the both of you and your subordinates."
"Don't mention it," Mr Fathom demurs respectfully, "We're all in this together."
"So we are," I agree, "Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, are we all ready to move out?"
"Yes, packed and repaired," Ms Maclona nods, "As per your recommendations, we've picked up a large number of mana potions."
"Likewise, Wolf Hunt is ready to live up to it's name," Mr Fathom smiles creepily. Please stop that, it's not very flattering.
"Excellent. If you don't mind I'll give the call," I clear my throat, "UJAX ALLIANCE! FORM UP, AND MOVE OUT!"
The Clearing, Ujax Forest
Making good time, the squad arrives at The Clearing roughly an hour later by my estimation. We had to deal with two patrols on the way here, both with Betas, but it was a simple matter to crush them with this many people, and without any significant danger at that. Compared to a few days ago, where even one Beta was enough to trouble us, and two at once basically untenable, watching them just collapse under more than a dozen melee combatants laying into it simultaneously was rather pathetic.
It did a lot of good for morale and cohesion, though, so their sacrifice to our cause is greatly appreciated. Thank you, Dire Wolf Beta #568 and #569. Your Carcasses will fund further destruction of your quasi-immortal species. After all, so long as Wolf Lord's Remains exists, they will continuously respawn in The Den to the west of us.
Happily, that is also our ultimate destination.
In any case, since it's already a trek to get here we've taken the opportunity to have a quick break before continuing, sat on the grass intermingling like we're attending an inter-company picnic. Once we've topped off our Stamina, we'll move on once more.
"So, you mean to tell us that The Den is where we're going to find the route to this dungeon's entrance?" Mr Fathom summarises the overview I give them of our next plan of action.
"Yes. We'll need to fight our way through to a huge hollowed-out tree trunk that's partially sunk into the ground. The Dire Wolves will not take kindly to our presence, so we want to be moving quickly," I elaborate, "Since it's where they respawn, we'll get bogged down and waste both time and resources if we dawdle. Once we enter the tunnel, we can deal with any stragglers in peace and it's a moderate walk from there to the basin's entrance."
"Is it worthwhile to just rush straight through?" Ms Maclona asks.
"If we were more experienced perhaps, but there's no need to be reckless," I reject the notion, "As has been demonstrated on the journey here, a few incidental packs aren't a threat to us, the danger will only be apparent if we linger overlong."
"And the route?" Mr Fathom questions.
"We'll head to the south side of The Clearing and follow the treeline west. It won't quite take us around the back of The Den, but it'll be safer overall compared to cutting straight through from the north," I propose, recalling the route used by Wolf Hunt's guides back in my day, "It's a straight shot through from there. Hard to miss, really."
"Now would be a good time to go over this much-hyped strategy of yours," Ms Maclona suggests with a pointed look, tapping her knee impatiently.
"I had thought to leave that until we were in front of the entrance to the dungeon," I click my tongue, mildly irritated, "One thing at a time, after all."
Besides, in the extremely unlikely scenario that we wipe in The Den, I don't want them taking the information elsewhere, contract or not. If they were to immediately log out and sell it to someone else, they could cut us out of the deal entirely. The contract we signed to signify our cooperation isn't as ironclad as I'd prefer, after all, and it's riddled with compromises. If they mean to find and exploit a loophole, it might be possible.
"I'd be interested in hearing the details now as well," Mr Fathom backs her up, sounding sincere.
Biting my tongue, I suppress the creeping paranoia rummaging through my gut, take a deep breath and give in, "Alright. Then, could I ask you to get everyone to form up into rows? Everyone needs to hear this."
"Not a problem," Ms Maclona agrees laconically, "Might take a minute to get them to stop talking though, so just bear with me."
"Officers at the front, naturally," I add as an afterthought.
"Sure," Mr Fathom pushes to his feet, dusts himself off and gives Ms Maclona a hand doing the same. I respectfully cough, and point to the damp patch on their legs and rear.
"Ugh, didn't notice," Mr Fathom complains. Quirstics have a slightly dulled sense of touch, from what I'm told.
"We'll live," Ms Maclona replies, apathetic, "I'm just glad that it's not too muddy. That would be a pain."
A pragmatic concern, given how miserable the weather has been for the past few days. I don't foresee any major difficulties, however, or else I'd have called the operation off and rescheduled it. Poor weather conditions have always been on the minds of every strategist and military official, and wintertime moreso. Of course, by Merrow's calendar we're moving into early spring soon, but assuming a 1:1 conversion of Earth's conditions is a mistake. For starters, There's no such thing as 'Summer', and there are roughly 400 days to a year. It's also colder and wetter on average.
But I digress, once again. The stress is getting to me, it would appear. At least while I'm travelling I'll be able to take it easy. Or just worry more about how things are going without me around to provide oversight. Come to think of it, that's almost certainly what's going to end up happening, isn't it?
With a long-suffering sigh, I stand up, stretch my back out and take my place in front of the gathered crowd. Ms Maclona and Mr Fathom having elected to get on with it instead of bothering me in the middle of my inner monologue.
Being stared at by so many expectant faces, I admit to feeling a little bit of stage fright. I'm a private person by nature, so addressing so many people at once is out of my comfort zone. No need to imagine them all in their underwear or something though. It's not that bad.
Taking a deep breath, I raise my voice to what I estimate to be an acceptable volume, "Just to be sure, can everyone hear me? Even in the back over there?"
""Yeah!""
A disjointed chorus of confirmation is echoed back at me. I nod in satisfaction, clear my throat, and start to talk.
"Ideally, I'd have a smartboard or something for this, but we'll just have to make do with our imaginations. As such, if you find anything I say to be unclear, please do not hesitate to raise your hand. If not, then please save your questions until I'm finished, as your answer may be forthcoming regardless of your interruption," I lick my lips, "Now, doubtless you all know what we're doing here by now, but just to ensure we're all on the same page, I will be covering the basic overview first anyway.
Wolf Lord's Remains is an Iron-Tier Ancient Battlefield type Dungeon. You do not need to know the full details of what that means, save that it is far more difficult and involved than the Reminiscences you are used to so far. It is not, however, a Raid, which is another step above in that regard. My point being, that this is considered 'average' in difficulty for large group content at the Level 12-15 Level range - so I advise you not to overestimate it, when I explain what's coming up next."
I pause to let that warning sink in. Admittedly, I am downplaying the sadism on display with this dungeon's design. There's just no point in giving them cause to doubt the feasibility of this operation. A bit dirty of me, but it is what it is. I have confidence it'll work out, and that's all they need to know.
"You may have heard mention that this is a 30 to 50 man dungeon. And by that same token, be wondering why we aren't leading a force that's at the maximum available value," I continue. Many people, particularly the Officers and my fellow Guild Leaders, suddenly start paying a lot more attention.
"That's because it's a cruel trap," I reveal firmly, "The moment we enter, every single Dire Wolf in the zone, including the Bosses, will be aware of our presence, and dispense the appropriate force to remove any intruders into their home. Note the use of 'appropriate force'. These monsters are not stupid, they will respond dynamically to the situation as it is presented and changed, but certain behaviours can be predicted. To return to the original point, if we were to stroll inside with a full complement of fifty combatants, then they would throw literally everything they have at us. That means that roughly two to three thousand Dire Wolves and all three Boss monsters will attack us simulatenously."
"Are you fucking joking?!"
"That's so unfair."
"Holy shit."
"Fucking hate Dire Wolves..."
The revelation causes a commotion to spread through the squad. This information also caused quite a stir back in the day too. The reason Sober Morning was able to gain a lot of their early success in WLR was that they didn't have enough eligible combatants to fill out the full 50 like other groups were doing, and stumbled onto the solution. They sold the information to Rambling Rose, and then the rest is history.
"Alright, simmer down," Ms Maclona raises her voice above the hubbub, brooking no dissent.
"Thank you," I smile appreciatively, "Obviously, as you likely already came to understand, sending in as few people as possible will avoid this fate, which is a guaranteed TPK. In that case, WLR becomes a wave-based defence fight. There are 7 Waves total, but a large number of Dire Wolves present in our surroundings. Unless provoked, they won't bother us, and not all of them are combatants - many are still nought more than pups and pose no threat. Please bear this in mind with regards to the earlier fact about how many there are present in the dungeon. We will not be fighting all of them by choice, so even though we will be fighting a lot of them, it's not as extreme as you're perhaps expecting it to be."
The tension in the air lessens a little at that. One arm goes up, belonging to a member of Sober Morning. I gesture for them to speak up.
"Is a full clear not necessary to complete the dungeon?" He asks.
"No. So long as all three bosses are defeated, the dungeon will enter an inert state temporarily, before we're forcibly ejected and barred from re-entry for approximately one hour," I elaborate for him, "Additionally, we will be evaluated on our competence in clearing it, just like for The Farmer's Secret, but we don't need to worry ourselves with that right now. Clearing it in the first place is more important; You can worry about optimising your runs another day."
What we're going to be doing is one of the most optimal strategies anyway.
"Next, I will explain the Wave Structure as best as I understand it: The first four Waves are trash waves. Waves 1 & 2 have a mix of approximately 40 Dire Wolves in the standard Adult and Adolescent varieties while Waves 3 & 4 have at least a hundred, usually a little more. You're well acquainted with the Adults by now, since they are the same as those found out in the forest, and the Adolescents are just dumber, weaker versions of them. They do not do anything you haven't seen before, they merely come in greater numbers. Additionally, there is one Beta that will accompany Waves 2 & 4, which will significantly increase the combat awareness of their lessers as normal, but with so many of them, the danger is much greater. They are priority targets and must be killed as soon as possible," I stop to catch my breath and take a quick swig of water, "On Wave 5, the first Boss will arrive with a complement of around fifty Dire Wolves. Her name is Pack Mother Groti, and we'll get back to how we deal with the bosses in a moment. One Wave 6, Pack Mother Poril will arrive with roughly 200 Dire Wolves - no, I didn't stutter - and on Wave 7, Dire Alpha Trastor, the final boss, will arrive. The time between each Wave is around five to ten minutes - or about a minute after the previous wave is defeated. It will be a test of our endurance above all else."
While I talk, I pace back and forth along a line, gesturing as I go, emulating some public speakers I've seen over the years. I don't really get the reasons why, but it's so widespread I figure why not. It's not a bad habit to get into since there's supposedly a lot of psychological reasoning behind it. Buzzwords like 'retention' and 'interest' get thrown around a lot in relation.
"Before we go fully in depth on what each boss does, there's something that needs to be mentioned which applies to all three. Scratch that, two things. The first, is that they all buff adds just by existing nearby just like a Beta, and these auras stack. Because of this, coupled with their naturally high health pools, all adds must be dealt with before the next boss arrives," I emphasise the point by hitting my fist into my palm. That nervousness returns to the squad, but they keep their concerns to the level of a harsh whisper. Giving them a moment to quiet down, I launch into the second point, "The reason why we don't just eliminate the bosses is twofold. First, that we will not be able to mount an effective offence while their entourage lives as a matter of course...but more concerningly, the moment a Pack Mother dips beneath 50% HP, the other waves will arrive immediately, and not only that, but Trastor will be in an Enraged state when he does. The Pack Mothers must not be focused down until he is dead or he will demolish us effortlessly."
This being the second biggest cause of TPKs in WLR before people got wise to the mechanic. After all, when a boss arrives, is your first instinct not to kill it for the loot? There's a reason I called this dungeon sadistic. It flagrantly ignores what players, as experienced and fairly genre-savvy individuals, would consider standard practice and punishes them for their complacency.
It's a lesson that Farmer's Secret tries to teach you prior to this, and the reason it's so important for new players to complete. AR does not care what you think you know; it expects you to treat its challenges with respect and seeks to reward people who are competent in more than just martial prowess. Sure, it doesn't always do the best job of communicating it, but it's a philosophy that's baked into my marrow by this point: That this world is dangerous - Take it at face value and you shall suffer for it.
"The bosses aren't very complicated, but they are nonetheless, extremely dangerous in their own way. Pack Mother Groti is a berserker: The longer she is in combat, and the more damage she takes, the more she will dish out. However, she's not very bright on her own, and will fixate on the first person to damage her until they die or she does. She also does not give a damn about pain, and will absolutely bite through a sword to get to you. As such, we will leave dealing with her to two of my subordinates, Jade Fairy and Olrica Nennot, as they are amongst the most mobile of us," I declare, receiving a determined look back from the pair, "The two of you and a healer will gain her attention and then lead her away from the fight to a location I designate until it's time to deal with her. Do not worry about damaging her and focus all your efforts on avoiding hits - one swipe will, in no uncertain terms, cut you in half once her passive stacks up."
"Gotcha," Jade gives a thumbs up, "If it's just gonna chase us forever, is there like a hideyhole we can use to safespot her?"
"Yes, something like that," I confirm, pleased at her inference, "It's not foolproof, but it'll give you a chance to catch your breath on an interval if you play it smart."
"Tell me after," she requests seriously, then shuts up. I just wish she was like this all the time.
"Poril is the opposite. As the much higher quantity of adds would suggest, she isn't much of a frontline fighter, preferring to stay back and provide tactical support to her children. In addition to her aura, she also has a special Howl which she uses thirty seconds after settling down in a spot - called 'throne phase' and every minute after. Every. Single. Dire Wolf. Including the other two bosses. Will have their Strength and Agility doubled if they so much as hear it. In other words, it's potential grounds for an instant wipe if she's allowed to use it even once."
"So we interrupt it," Ms Maclona concludes.
"Yes. There are two solutions, the first is to use something akin to a Trapper's Sonic Mines to drown it out, while the second is to physically prevent it," I raise a finger for each, "Trying to lead her away will not work, but killing all two hundred of her children will convince her to flee the battle and return with another batch of adds. The idea will be to corner her so she cannot do this by harassing her into a disadvantageous position - for this job I will be nominating Mr Olnly from Sober Morning and Miss Acton from Wolf Hunt to tank her, in conjunction with Mr Fathom. Any objections?"
The Warrior, Trapper and Mr Fathom all shake their heads.
"Mr Olnly will need to detonate Sonic Mines every time Poril attempts to use this howl, so please mind the timing, and observe when she raises her maw aloft to do so," I instruct, "Should you be even half a second off, we will be in serious trouble."
The Silva Trapper gulps, as everyone in the squad turns to stare him down. I'm sorry, but you have one of the most important roles in this endeavour, so I hope it helps you to understand that.
"So long as both Pack Mothers are kept occupied, when Trastor arrives we will have a much easier time dealing with him," I prepare to conclude, "Since we won't be able to move very far from the Poril group at first, we will do so once the final batch of adds is dealt with to make sure that he is outside the range of his mates' auras, as he will prioritise their safety otherwise and move to support them. He has two abilities we need to care about: A roar that will stun those in range for two seconds and apply a damage penalty debuff for eight seconds which is on a 90 second cooldown. If you have a high enough Willpower you can resist it, but it's better to just interrupt him with crowd control or back off out of the effect range. Since we don't have any reliable stuns capable of affecting him, we will do the latter. The second mechanic is a tankbuster called Dire Alpha Trastor's Subjugation, which deals increased damage based on the Level difference between himself and his victim. As such, Windy Fields, as the highest Level tank here, will be the Main Tank for Trastor. If it hits anyone at Level 13 or lower, it will probably kill you instantly even if you activate a life-saving Skill."
Windy half-heartedly raises a hand then lets it drop, "Is there a telegraph? What's the cooldown?"
"His fur will start to smoke about a second prior, and it's used every two-ish minutes," I answer her, "Except - and this is to reiterate - if he's enraged. If either of the Pack Mother teams fuck up, this tankbuster will be reduced to under five seconds and he will constantly use his roar. Trastor must be killed first. Groti second, and Poril last. When Trastor dies, you can stop worrying about her buff, as an aside, as there won't be anything left to use it on in range."
I exhale, drained, "That about covers it for the overview. We'll handle our formation and positioning on arrival at the entrance, so are there any questions..?"
A few arms are raised tentatively, and I groan inwardly, unwilling to continue talking.
Thanks for the chapter
Thanks for the chapter!
Right on time for Christmas two! Hoped you had a nice holiday ^~^