Ratflation and Ratblocks : EQ2

Time was they only asked you to kill ten rats. Those days are over. Now it's a dozen of these, fifteen of those, twenty of the other.

Not complaining. Always liked a kill quest, me. These odd worlds we spend so much time in? They run on murder. Solution to every problem it is. Rats in the cellar? Kill 'em. Goblins in the barn? Kill 'em. Bandits stole your hat with the feather in it? Kill 'em.

Never kill 'em all, mind. You'd think that'd be a better way to solve the problem for good but no. It's always 'go and kill ten so the rest get the message'. Specially where revenge comes into it. Lizardmen killed your brother? Bribe some passing stranger to kill a dozen of them so they'll...

Ogres. What can you expect?

So they'll what, exactly? Feel your pain? Empathize? Desist from fratricide in the future? Maybe it's just so you feel you're doing something. Revenge - one of the stages of grief. Actually, the only stage.

Paid murder's not just for farmers or the recently bereaved. It's the tried and tested methodology of the research scientist too. Suspect the food supply's been poisoned? Toss a few chunks to the nearest Joe with a bow, tell him to go feed some wild animals then come back and tell you which ones died. Strange green glow around those weird little guys who turned up in the night? Send some adventurer off to kill a bunch, hack off a few chunks of flesh and bring it back for tests.

There's almost no problem that can't be sorted out quick and clean by murder. Just gotta kill enough people. If the first twenty didn't do the job send your amateur assassin back to take out twenty more. This is how we live now.

It's not so bad. Yes, there are more to kill. Always more to kill. But look how much faster they die nowadays. Really, when you think of it, a Kill Twenty is a lot less than a Kill Ten in the old money. More like a Kill Five. Not that anyone ever asked for just five. Well, not often.

Whatever way you slice it, having twenty to kill when there are forty or fifty milling about right there, in the camp or the field or the temple, that's a lot better than a kill list of five and you can't find 'em. Come to that, if only it was five.

I am. It's all on Zam.

This guide was handing out quests in Cardin Ward, Sunday afternoon. Why she was in Cardin Ward? Beats me. Oh, I know. She was doing something for some ghosts and Cardin Ward's in Obol Plains which is in The Ethernere which is where you go when you die. One of the places anyway.  So, ghosts.

Never would have known about it at all but someone was talking. Never would have gone all the way over there but he showed what she was handing out. Sixty-six slot backpack. Sixty-six slots. Say that again. That's like the biggest backpack you can imagine and a half. Worth some traveling, for sure.

A thousand plat says we never set foot in Kael

With guide quests you can't hang around. These guides, they pop up, do their thing, pop off. Never know when or if they'll come back. Sometimes you have to finish the whole thing before they go, which is a stresser. This one, no. Got it in the book, you can finish it whenever.

If you can find it. First problem right there. For some reason it's under Kael Drakkel although what it has to do with giants appears to be precisely nothing. Don't believe you even go to Kael. Asked her about that she had some excuse. Didn't really listen to be honest. Or much care. Sixty-six slots.

Plan was to knock the whole thing off this afternoon then do a little write-up here, go into the whole "Guide" thing, how we used to have GMs and Guides doing little turns all over, all the while, whether that was good or bad, like that. Not happening.


Ran into a problem early on. Found the little island in Phantom Sea with the Newsie (don't ask - nicer not to know), got her to explain what she wanted (hard going), found the first thing easily enough. Vellum. Undead rangers have it. Why? No idea. Apparently you can't wander morbidly around the ruins of the old ranger guild hut in what's left of Kithicor Forest without you have some vellum in your... on your... bones.

Old place has seen better days. Although, come to think of it, no it hasn't.

So, that part zipped by. Needed a dozen, killed a dozen, still a dozen wandering about. Good start on the vellum. Shame about the ink. Naturally, you want vellum, it's to write on; you want to write, you need ink. (Pen? Nope. Going to use her finger for a pen - again, best not to question these people - just go along with whatever they want. Saves killing a dozen Rotted Treants for twigs at least).

Ink comes from squid. We don't have squid. We have octopuses. Near enough. Off to kill a dozen. Must be a long message. Except - no octopuses. No Savage Entanglers to give them their Sunday best name.

Quick! Get the camera!

Okay, some. Four found in just over an hour. Flew all over, low above the waves, looking. Used up a bunch of otter totems searching below the water. Thick like fog down there. Miserable.

There was a named one, called Plongeur. Fancy Dan. Killed him. He didn't count (didn't drop anything either) but he brought along a pal. He counted. That was the first. Proof of concept you could call it.

Right place then. Set off slaughtering sealife by the score - piranha, sea anglers, eels, turtles, some kind of weird biped thing on the sea floor - trying to make a bit of space for Entanglers to come in. Got a couple, three. Not nearly enough. So too slow.

So there it lies. To be picked away at as and when. There's a lot of flying to and fro between the 'kill fifteen Allu`thoa'  on one island and 'kill eight sulfuric viscids' somewhere else. It'll get done in time. With a sixty-six slot bag at the end of it you just better bet it'll get done.

Proves the point though. Nothing wrong with a bit of ratflation. It's the ratblocks you gotta worry about.