Right then, here's my story.
First thing's first, I'm not very well versed in MMOs at all. Never actually played one yet. This situation actually took place- don't hold your breath- on an MCMMO Factions/Raid Minecraft server. Now I am well aware of the stigma associated with this, but I can definitely assure you that mixed in equal parts with all the immaturity and stupidity was a vast quantity of sadism, violence, cruelty and the like. Basically the same characteristics you can expect from most people in any online game, but intentionally concentrated by the grief and be-briefed nature of raid servers. Or at least this is how we saw it. By we I mean my faction, a two-man group of depraved coward thugs.
The typical players on this server fall into the standard economic classes. The Upper Class: fellows who have been there for a while, donated, and are well-seated, with large, nigh-impregnable bases, maxed out levels, large factions, too much money and god-tier equipment. These guys can be cunning and they can be moronic, but unless you're at or near their level, you'll still get your ass kicked if you take them on in combat. Then there is the Middle class, whose presence is defined more by their actions by anyone else. You can be the type who works hard to get some great gear, but makes poor choices in combat and looses it all. You can be a sitting on a rich plot of land, building levels and resources, waiting for the perfect moment to make a big move. You can even be a terrifying force to be reckoned with in combat, but have base-building skills too poor to maintain a non-griefed base. Lastly, there are the poor, smelly unfortunates who are simply unable to survive for any length of time, and result in the vast array of burned-out houses that will inevitably surround any raid servers spawn. These are not hard categories, it's more of a Venn-diagram.
Initially, I was stalking a new faction of young, inexperienced players. More often than not, the same type of people who join this server, build a nice little house next to spawn and quit when their house is demolished and they are murdered in the ruins. The server's description outlined the type of environment they would be entering, but in one ear out the other I guess. Anyway, I was observing this group from a distance, crouching behind one of the many trees. This group had been unusually resilient. I was sure they had been raided at least once, but their large numbers allowed them to recuperate and rebuild from the typical loss they would experience from a raid. I believe this was partially to explain why these poor souls were still a minin'.
I had followed this group to a shore along the edge of a small lake. As I watched, they set about building themselves a new home. They had claimed the land, meaning only members of their faction could edit the terrain. It was at this point I informed my teammate of the full situation at hand, and we decided that the most fun could be had if we waited for the fruit to ripen before harvesting. This was a gamble, because opportunities like this are rare. Most players on this server would have assaulted this group on sight, and any rich player would have succeeded. Not only was this base extremely easy to see on the surface (they had a large log-cabin-castle combo aesthetic going), but inexperienced players are liable to fall for teleport traps and inadvertently TP raiders into their home. But, alas, our gamble payed off and we were ready.
The plan was to deviate from standard procedure; where were use an TNT cannon or fire spreading to make an entrance in to the base and proceed to empty all storage containers within. We knew that we had the ability to take them all on in combat, even at once in an area where they can respawn constantly. And, much to my delight, they had made a land-claiming mistake, allowing me to hand-break the blocks I needed to get in. The numerous reconnaissance missions I made allowed to to know the rough layout of the base, enough info to tell me that the structure on the surface was the tip of the iceberg.
First, we needed to make it appear something was amiss. From a distance away, I fired volleys of arrows onto their base. My associate was much closer, and taking great care not to be be seen, started fires in the surrounding forest, detonated the occasional explosive and poured some lava around. The goal of this was to terrify them in a greater manner than what is possible through shock-and-awe tactics (storming the base and killing them all). After some time, their agitation became apparent through their accusations and ramblings in the chat. Once the beehive had been sufficiently kicked, we waited for things to cool down a little. If we continued our games, or made our presence known, they would probably gather up as many valuables as they could and teleport with them to a safe location. The goal was to spook them enough to keep them on their toes, but not enough to encourage them to evacuate. After about 30 minutes of mild torment, the next phase began.
For those not well-versed in Minecraft, you can see any player's name above their head, even though blocks, up to a certain distance. This makes it extremely difficult to sneak up on even mildly observant players without the use of crouching (which renders your nametag invisible though blocks). Crouching was instrumental in getting the drop on these guys. After all the members of the faction we were tormenting had gone into the basement of their house, a primitive room deep underground consisting of a large open area, a spawn pad in the center and chests and other essentials lining the walls. After we were sure we were at the same depth as their room and only one block was between them and us, we lit the fuse on a TNT block that would allow us to make a dramatic entry. The hissing of TNT is a sound every Minecraft player will instantly recognize. In the seconds before detonation, their gamertags, which we observed through the wall and used to track them down, appeared to move about erratically. Oh, what fun! As soon as the explosives detonated, we entered the room. The following was, as expected, a bloodbath, with our higher levels, better equipment and superior experience. They did, however, flock to us desperately in droves, because their faction spawn point was in the very center of the room we were in. It was certainly fun times for all, but eventually our supplies would run low and we would be forced to pull out. This is where we claimed over their land for our faction, preventing them from editing the terrain. Were were able to do this because their 'faction power' was now incredibly low, something that happens when faction members die repeatedly. Once their base was belong to us, their fate was officially sealed, just as they were themselves sealed in a little tomb we built for them. Unable to escape, they had no choice but to disconnect or wait to see what we had in store for them.
We looted every last piece of their base, something rich factions tend to neglect to do. Once we had all the loot, we returned to the room where our prisoners were being held. From their viewing window, they watched as we lit a small fire in front of them. And one by one, we proceeded to drop every single item they had into that fire. As we chucked their enchantment table into the fire, their rage reached it's peak. Once that was over with, the two of us, cackling with laughter, filled their base with a really unnecessary amount of explosives. The last block of TNT was placed right in front of them, right next to the fire. They knew it would only be a matter of time.
Rather than teleport out, mock them and count our winnings as many of our peers would have done, we slowly walked away without looking back (I'm sure you know the rule about cool people and explosions). With their anger turning into resignation, we climbed their staircase up to the surface. Rather humorously, the TNT took it's time to ignite, giving them plenty of time to insult us before there last sentences were cut off. At this point, we were just barely able to hear the blast. For a short while afterwards, were were in silent awe at what we had just done. If only they had known. If at any point, they had said "We surrender", we would have immediately backed off. After all, we're certainly not savages!
Anyway, I hope that was an interesting story. Maybe I embellished it a little. Happy birthday, Ross!
