Pfft, HAHAHA! The completely undignified burst of laughter that exploded through the party channel belonged to I Will Carry You.
What the heck?! Hahaha! Bro, that name is just... just TOO good! A perfect fit for someone who has no idea what he's doing! But fair warning, once your game ID is set, you apparently can't change it, not unless you delete your account and start fresh, or you somehow get your hands on some incredibly rare item. So just own it, Lord Whattheheck! Hahaha!
"..." Eric was speechless. He could practically picture his older cousin doubled over in her pod, losing it completely. "Alright, alright, forget the name. What are we even playing? Let's get on with it."
"Okay, okay, I'll stop." Liora barely managed to pull herself together. "Actually, your timing is perfect.
Old Devil Medici, well, the game's creator, Medici, since it's Christmas he put together a special event called The Waaagh!!! Is Here! Merry Greenskin Christmas! It's a themed activity map built around the new Ork faction.
I haven't tried it yet, but the streams and forums are saying it's absolutely hilarious. Let's run it today, just the two of us!"
"Orks? Yeah, sure, I don't care. It's all just fighting anyway."
"Let's go then! Activity mode, two-player matchmaking, here we go!" Liora selected the mode with a bounce of excitement.
[Matchmaking...]
[Match found!]
[Map: Lithoeremos-313 (Christmas Activity Special Edition)]
[Mode: Capture and Control (Ork Faction Exclusive Rules)]
[Players this match: 50/50 (Red) vs 50/50 (Blue)]
[Total players: 100]
[Loading... Wishing you a happy Waaagh!!!]
After a brief flash of darkness, Eric's vision didn't cut straight to the battlefield. Instead it eased into a short intro cinematic that was rough around the edges in exactly the right way.
The perspective pulled back, locking onto a planet that looked like it had never had a good day in its life: murky, polluted, punishing. Lithoeremos-313.
Then the view plunged downward, punching through the thin atmosphere, sweeping past erupting volcanoes and toxic marshes, until it finally settled on an unremarkable patch of scorched earth buried under a blanket of radioactive dust.
A spore, so tiny it was barely visible, glowing with a faint green light, drifted on the wind and tucked itself into a crack in the dry soil.
The animation suddenly jumped to fast-forward. The spore swelled, took root, spread mycelium, and pushed the surface upward in a slow, insistent bulge. Within seconds, a mushroom pit had taken shape, half a person's height, its surface rough with fungal caps and crusted dirt.
Then the cap was shoved violently open from the inside. A thick green arm, slick with mucus and caked in grime, reached out, followed by a head, then shoulders, then a torso hauling itself free. Eric's first-person perspective dropped right into the middle of that climb.
The cinematic ended. Real time resumed.
Eric looked down at himself. Bare everywhere except for a rough strip of hide from some animal he couldn't identify wrapped around his waist. His skin was a dull green. His muscles were enormous. His hands were completely empty.
??? His head was full of question marks. Isn't this supposed to be a war game? Where's the war? Where are the enemies? Where's the tutorial quest? No starter weapon? No NPC at spawn? What kind of game just drops you in the dirt with nothing?
While he stood there looking around in bewilderment, taking in the equally bleak surroundings, a nearby mushroom pit let out a pop and was shoved open. Another greenskin boy crawled out.
This freshly born greenskin shook the mucus off his head, looked around, and his gaze immediately locked onto the nearest target: Eric. Whatever passed for a brain inside that thick skull apparently had zero concept of things like faction loyalty or new player protection.
There was only the most basic Ork logic: there's a guy nearby, he looks tough, and let's find out who's tougher.
"Oi! You there! Let's scrap!" The greenskin let out a slurred but completely combat-ready bellow. Without waiting for any response, he swung a fist the size of a sandbag, waddled forward on his bowed legs, and threw a straight punch directly at Eric's face.
"What the!" Eric reacted on instinct. PvP at spawn? Against his own faction? This was absurd.
But he was, underneath the green skin, still a trained fighter. The reflexes and body awareness he'd built up as a martial arts club president in real life had carried over.
His character's movements were a little clumsy at first, but his instincts kicked in anyway. He twisted his torso and shifted his weight, pulling off a clean enough dodge that the punch just grazed past his cheek.
The wind from the fist brushed his face, carrying a strange smell of dirt and, somehow, mushroom.
"Are you serious right now!" Eric's temper spiked, even knowing the other guy was just an NPC. "Who punches someone the second they meet? What kind of game is this?"
The greenskin paused for just a beat after missing, then howled and lunged again, going for a grapple. Eric stopped holding back.
Fine, let's see what this body can actually do. He dropped his center of gravity and braced himself, read the momentum of the incoming charge, and instead of retreating he pushed forward, throwing a straight punch right into the other's chest.
THUD. A dull, heavy sound. The greenskin staggered back, clutching his chest and howling, but if anything the ferocity in his eyes only got worse as he charged again.
Eric quickly figured out what he was working with. The Ork's body was loaded with raw power. The technique was garbage, but the ability to eat hits and keep moving was something else entirely.
He stopped worrying about form and just used what he actually knew, how to generate force, how to control his center of gravity, and waded into a straight-up brawl. Punches, kicks, grabs and shoves, dust flying everywhere. No technique, no style, just pure violent momentum.
After four or five exchanges, Eric landed a quick series of solid shots to the head and ribs. His footwork was sharper and his timing was better, and the greenskin finally had enough. Beaten half to pieces, he stumbled back, waving his hands:
"Stop! Stop! Dat's enough! I quit! You win! You're me Boss now, Boss Whattheheck! I'm with you, wherever you're headed!"
He pressed a hand to his swollen eye socket. The look he was giving Eric had shifted completely — from pure aggression to something landing somewhere between awe, excitement, and barely contained eagerness.
In the core logic of an Ork: if someone beats you, you follow them. If the other guy is a better fighter, sticking with him guarantees more fights — harder fights, fights worth having. That was practically the best possible outcome.
Huh? Eric lowered his fist, a little thrown off. Just like that? Just one fight and he'd already pledged loyalty? Was the AI really that simple?
He looked at this greenskin in front of him, battered and bruised but already practically vibrating with the urge to go hit something else, and felt the whole thing was both ridiculous and, honestly, kind of refreshing.
"You're calling me Boss? Sure, fine." Eric scratched his bare green head. "Didn't expect to pick up a sidekick the second I logged in. Looks like a solid one, too."
He glanced at his still-empty hands, then at his new companion, then out across the wasteland — at the other green figures steadily crawling out of the ground, and at the faintly visible skyline of structures in the far distance that looked like they belonged to very different worlds.
'Okay... so what now? The Boss takes his guy and goes to find a weapon first?' Eric muttered, then tried giving the greenskin a direct command.
"Hey. You know where there are any weapons? Or where there's a fight to get into?"
The greenskin immediately jabbed a finger at the horizon and bellowed with obvious excitement: "Over dere, Boss! I can smell rust and explosions! And somethin' else real strong! Dere's definitely a fight comin'! Follow me, I know where we can grab some proper gear!"