Admin: Angels and Demons (4)

I watched, as Jabberwocky could only curse his bad luck, he was too far from the barrier to be able to do anything. He could only watch with horror as the massive barrier was studded with cracks, the seams breaking and crumbling with a deafening cacophony of bell-like ringing.

Still, over the sound of bells, the rumble of the barrier’s destruction, signaled nothing good for the Players. 

Thankfully, unlike the Players who were much closer to the epicenter, he managed to realize that they needed to retreat from the broken barrier. However, he had no way to communicate this information to them, and so when the greenish-transparent massive dome began falling down, Players began curiously peering at what is behind the barrier rather than doing the smart thing and running. Some, probably ‘special’ in their own way, started walking towards the inside, peering at all the things beyond the barrier.

And I have to say, I am proud of what I have created. The vista beyond the barrier was the result of my attempts to combine the idea of a mad prophet and an equally mad scientist, turned into reality through the efforts of my AI army.

Massive columns of retorts and alembics, assembled together with numerous inscribed scrolls, most of which were so heavily annotated that the parchment had torn in places. And where it remained intact, a thick layer of ink prevented anyone from deciphering a single word. And it’s less of a design choice, and more of a defensive measure. After all, the Players had already ‘summoned’ Angels once following random writings on the walls of a desecrated temple, which, generally speaking, wasn't really much of a temple at all, but rather just a cluttered room. 

What they would understand from the writings of an actual mad scientist working with temporal anomalies and real Angel summoning was something I didn't even want to speculate about.

In any case, decorated all sorts of pipes, scrolls, and seals strewn around all over the place, and yet discreetly placed to create a proper boss arena. Gradually, all the decorations would gradually narrow down the room the further in the Players go, towards the central podium where the boss was waiting.

On the podium itself, large by any measure, among scattered scrolls thickly carpeting the ground, a carpet of discarded theories and untested formulas – which are actually proper recipes and spells, though a large part of them are just lore documents. All things that the Players could learn. 

A reward for defeating the boss and also a ‘gift’ from me, that is, the despair that the Players should feel, if, in the battle, the scrolls were destroyed by their action. 

And, in the very center of the podium, was an enormous flask three men tall and five wide, filled with blue-white liquid shimmering like starlit flashes at night. But, the thing that would catch the eye the most, was the figure of some object frozen within, one that could barely be discerned. The very Child for whose liberation Players were supposed to be fighting all this time. At least according to my design. 

One that the Players should thank me. I’ve filled the Child with so much content and Quests that I had to create countermeasures to make sure that the Infernals doesn’t kidnap that walking, talking Quest and lore dispenser. Who knows what kind of bad shit the Demon Worshipers would teach the Child; because for such rewards, they're capable of anything.

In any case, the curious Players managed to take a few more steps before their gaze finally shifted to the star of this performance, appearing, as befits a star, with some delay relative to the entire audience. Or rather, the star was already on the stage, the Players simply hadn't noticed it, since the hunched figure looked like another gray broken column just standing in place. 

Only when this ‘debris’ moved did the Players pay attention to it.

The figure now stretching upward to his full figure was thin, or at least seemed so due to being much taller than any Player, standing three heads above the tallest of all approaching figures. This made its proportions seem wrong, making its entire figure appear emaciated to the point of desiccation.

A sharp turn of his chin revealed to the Players an old man's face. Riddled with deep wrinkles, it only reinforced the impression of his emaciated figure, just like the long gray robe that, judging by its appearance, had been worn for many years without cleaning or repair. 

Gray not out of dyes, but simply from age.

But then, the free look was over, and the Players’ hackle rose like a scared cat, as colors, pulsating the same colors as the liquid in the Child’s chamber, started flowing through the old man’s veins, before it concentrated on its eyes, previously hidden. The old man now looked positively inhuman, as with each breath, hoarser with each one, floating sparks were let out, making it unmistakable; the Players were facing an enemy. 

"So, the experiment remains unfinished," The old man's voice sounded strange, as if someone took a creaky, ungreased elderly voice but tried to stretch it into the deep, powerful voice of a leader accustomed to commanding armies and not even entertaining the thought that someone might disobey his order. 

"A mistake, a grave mistake… But only the lesser of those you committed this time."

The old man's took a step forward, his dirty short gray hair stuck to his forehead giving the old man's expression a mad look, despite his voice seeming absolutely rational, 

"You destroyed it. The barrier that protected the Heavenly Garden. The entire timeline…"

After these words, the old man stopped and exhaled sharply. "But what difference does it make? If I couldn't set everything right, then you, too, have the right to any madness. If the world is doomed from its birth, if suffering remains the only possible path – then any and all madness has the right to exist. Violence remains the answer when 'understanding' is nothing more than a fiction of a fevered mind."

Then the decorative items on the podium, assembled simultaneously like a display of medieval alchemist's scientific equipment and prayer altars hung with church litanies and banners, creaked in time with his words. Then began to rattle. It was as if steam under pressure was crushing their insides, bursting free in silver sparks. The grinding of metal joined a moment later, and then, finally, everything burst. 

Glass mixed with metal bits exploded forward, carrying with it plumes of thick fog that immediately spread in all directions, rising upward and seemingly covering the sky, stretching in all directions. 

In mere seconds, the entire sky above the Heavenly Islands was covered in thick fog, which immediately began moving across the sky, swirling in eddies and invisible storms that Players might have previously observed only in computer weather simulations. Technically, of course, the current scene before them was also nothing more than a computer simulation, but none of the Players remembered this while observing the cataclysm before them. 

It was, with all its might, convincing any observers of its realism, and simultaneously, of the unreality of the world around them.

However, the Players couldn't ponder the meaning of the weather phenomenon they were witnessing for too long. Their gaze was again drawn to the old man who, taking several steps, found himself opposite the massive flask still strangely intact, and looked around as if assessing those present, after which he spread his arms to the sides. 

"Good! If violence remains the only answer, then so be it. I have no values besides my knowledge, but therein lies the magnificence of violence. It can always be created from nothing. And if you wish to obtain… This?"

The old man smiled slightly with the corner of his lips, as his chin jutted out at all the scattered scrolls. 

"Well then, I suppose you've come to one of the most outstanding craftsmen of his time."

***

The first wave of Players that rushed at the Prophet didn't even need to be scraped off the pavement. A second after their first step, half of them could be collected with a dustpan. The remaining half demonstrated that risking your body while sitting at a computer in third person and acting directly in first person were different things. They, too, quickly scattered away.

Of course, the Mad Prophet, the first proper boss of my game world, would be a challenge even to my most powerful, well-equipped, highest leveled Player.

There were three ways I could go with my first boss. First, was the ‘training’ boss, basically just a stepping stone for Players, serving exclusively as the Players’ familiarization method for boss mechanics. In other words, a training dummy with a name and lore. Very important for a game oriented towards mass consumption, where a large number of new Players would join in the game, or if it uses its own unique mechanics that are vitally necessary in further gameplay. Or at least part of the main feature of gameplay.

Of course, I already had plenty of various gameplay features in the game; mainly various unstructured placeholders that I frantically shoved in when a Player once again looked somewhere they shouldn't and tried to understand whether they were seeing a bug or another feature that they simply couldn't grasp yet.

The second kind? A scripted boss, used when a boss is too important of a story character for the game. But besides my dislike for such moves, I simply didn't need the Mad Prophet in the future. Even more so, he was supposed to die, and most definitely I absolutely didn't need the Players to make yet another incredible discovery, cure his madness, somehow, and chain me to yet another NPC. For whom I'd have to create a thousand pages of lore and background.

The third kind? An unforgettable boss, to make fighting them an adventure for the Players. Let them feel the magnitude of the Boss’ power from the very beginning, and instill in them respect for the words ‘raid boss’. 

It was this path I followed with the Mad Prophet.

Besides possessing solid stats, I also gave the boss three dozen experimental abilities that I decided to test out, by having the boss use them against the Players before giving them to the players themselves after defeating the boss. Furthermore, I’ve assigned a full-fledged AI that was supposed to refine both the raid boss’ tactics and give feedback on how I could further refine the bosses.

Not to mention, I’ve also given the boss plenty of Adds, demons, appearing from deactivated seals that I’ve placed all over the boss room. The Adds would harass the Players, making beating the Boss just that much more difficult, an unpleasant surprise for sure. 

So, as the mob of enemies, and the boss rolled over the Players easily, I could already taste the salt coming from the Players’ tears. 

Of course, I didn't plan to make this boss completely invincible. If the Players couldn't even get close to him after a couple of attempts, I'd have to reduce the number of spawned demons and the effectiveness of his abilities. After all, worse than a too-easy boss is a completely invincible one. 

But, the first impression was most important. 

The feeling of accomplishment after defeating a boss only counts if you have to work for it, after all. Plus, scaring the Players in the future with the words ‘don't go there, there's a raid boss’ would only work if they themselves, through personal experience, became convinced that a raid boss could, and would, push their stool in; pardon my french. 

This is exactly why poor unfortunate Players that were too curious for their own good were mowed down like grass with incredible speed.

My desire to get some payback for their constant attempts to break my game played absolutely no role in this!

Well, it was only part of it.

In any case, as I observed the scene of the demon wave breaking through, washing through the Players from the streets of the Shattered City with only slight satisfaction, I was not dancing with joy. Much. Still, I wonder if I would need to re-balance the boss? After all, they still had to defeat the boss in the next few days to get to the Child.

Jabberwocky had correctly understood the danger hidden behind the barrier, and the need for extreme measures to keep it intact, and had given the right orders. Even now, he was directing the Demon waves with incredible alacrity. 

A chain of explosions with the Explosion Potions collapsed a few of the ruins strewn around the Destroyed City wherever possible, leaving only a few narrow passages where the most combat-capable Players immediately engaged the Demons. Meanwhile, the remaining Players stuck behind these created strategic choke points were written off as losses. 

Fortunately, this was no Death Game, and these dead Players would return in two hours after death. Unfortunately for these same Players, they wouldn't be able to reach their bodies and equipment left there anytime soon before it would despawn. Their weapons, armor, and everything else they had carried with them would have to be completely written off as irretrievable losses.

On the other hand, the first proper crisis would also be a serious test of Jabberwocky’s alliance strength. They were beginning to delve too deeply into politics and forgetting that they were still Players on the same side in this game world… Excluding the Infernals, of course.

In any case, the Demon Wave would also relieve pressure from the Infernals' side, as the player alliance had already begun pressing too hard on them, slowly pushing them off one island and then another. I didn't create the Infernals just for them to be so simply and unceremoniously defeated before I needed them.

So, ‘blessing’ the players with a brand-new quest aimed at destroying the demon waves and killing the raid boss. Most importantly, not forgetting to mention in the Quest that the Players definitely needed to break the huge flask with the trapped Child inside, just so they wouldn't break this idea too. Looking at the Mad Prophet returning back to his inactive state, to wait for the next unlucky batch of Players, I evaluate the Raid Boss AI, both its name and its function, as successful. 

Judging that the Players were sufficiently frightened and confused, I left the Shattered City to observe what Sad was doing, my new trouble Players… Well, he wasn’t doing anything strange, or at least, stranger than what he was doing ten minutes ago. 

Still covered by the flayed demon hide, he continued lying down in place, letting the demon waves pass by him toward the other Players, using the special ability I'd given him. Well, there aren’t any actual mechanics behind it yet, so calling it a skill was perhaps a misnomer.  

That is, Sad was activating a button that did nothing, like the button on a crosswalk. It was nothing more than an indicator I had pre-attached to him for other demons to completely ignore his presence. And I began pondering, not just about the mechanics of his ability, but about reworking pathfinding intelligence for demons altogether.

Leaving everything as is, with demons simply ignoring obstacles in their path, was impossible. But, giving each demon the ability to calculate in real-time their path-finding, their chances of breaking through obstacles, computing the most ergonomic movements for this and checking all materials' durability along their path was also impossible. Otherwise, I'd have to ask the big bosses to provide me with a few dozen supercomputers for the task of continuous calculations of every mob's actions in the game. 

Even if Titanomachy had such capacities, they probably do actually, they wouldn't simply give them to me after hearing my reasoning. ‘The NPCs' pathing looked unrealistic’, if I used such a reason, I would probably just get laughed at. 

Therefore, after thinking for a long time, I came up with a workable idea. 

First, I divided all existing objects in the game into two categories, ‘destructible’ and ‘indestructible’ by mobs. Second, I then attached the second criteria to the ground, bridges, and statues, plus a few more small things that mobs shouldn't destroy under any circumstances. Now came the genius of my idea, the first category I linked to an invisible parameter I called ‘intelligence’, not as a characteristic, but as an indicator for certain mobs determining their capacity for rational thinking. Then, which was much more tedious, inserted a simple formula according to which object durability in the mobs' field of vision was compared with their strength and damage-dealing abilities. 

Finally then, depending on their ‘intelligence’, certain objects would be either marked as indestructible for the mob, causing it to immediately disable pathfinding attempts over it, or, if the mob's intelligence was high enough, one of the free AIs forks would be assigned to it. And an indestructible object would be changed to a destructible one. 

Not that the AI itself could necessarily solve the problem, of course, but I didn't need the mob to always be able to solve the task set before it. A unique flag in a pathfinding attempt was almost more valuable than success in a routine operation. 

A mob walking around an obstacle would be unremarkable, but one that breaks through a wall, before dying because a brick fell on its head? That's another interesting story for forums and a handful of people who decided to try a game where such stories are possible. And anyone trying to copy Sad’s attempt, against some of the ‘smarter’ mobs, would fail miserably.

Of course, I still needed to polish this system, like all game systems, for a long time until they started working as I needed. But as a first approximation of an idea? It seemed workable.

So waving my hand as if giving orders to the entire world, I could enjoy watching how mobs stopped for a second, quickly recalculating their current working algorithms while also urgently marking one object after another as ‘indestructible’… Before continuing their movement roughly the same way they acted before.

As expected, considering that practically almost all the mobs I'd introduced into the game were introduced as ‘unthinking’ monsters, so their ‘intelligence’ was properly assessed as low.

The exception was, of course, the raid boss, but it was directly controlled by an AI so my working practically had no effect on it. So I moved to another rare exception; the Lesser demon of Disbelief.

A level twenty-five mob, at the moment, excluding the raid boss, are the strongest mobs in the entire game. Not even the Players urgently climbing into the highest echelons of the game like Sturm, Double or Beze doesn't dare face it alone. There were exactly three of them summoned from the deactivated seals, and they were meant to serve precisely as ‘mini bosses’ for each of the waves. 

Now, with their ‘intelligence’ set to slightly higher than absolute zero, I watched with interest to see what exactly each of them would come up with in their pathfindings.

Two, however, after a second's pause after getting greeted by a blockage, continued moving exactly like the other mobs. A quick glance at the logs told me that they'd chosen ‘go around obstacle’ as their method to reach the Players; meaning that they continue moving along the path the Players, Jabberwocky, had created, meaning that they would get killed in short order as they are ambushed. Cunning Players were already taking positions on the upper floors of the partially destroyed buildings and prepared to bombard the approaching horde from above with anything they could. 

But, one of the Demons produced an ‘idea’ that could in some sense be called strategic. 

Rather than trying to pass through the enemy's prepared openings, the Demon chose to destroy the blockages and go directly to the enemy!

This wasn't true strategy, of course, just the AI creatively approaching the question of ‘how to reach the enemy. But coincidence overlapped with chance, and a moment later a large chitin-covered human mockup without eyes, ears or facial features except a huge mouth taking up most of its head, curving outward with an uneven palisade of teeth, crashed into the stone barrier in its path.

The barrier withstood a single strike, but not the subsequent ones, and after a couple of seconds Players were screaming things that would get them properly banned in any decent MMORPG. Or at least muted for a few hours. 

But I, being the magnanimous god that I am, decided not to be too harsh beyond the two-hour respawn that awaited them. 

Because the small stone house, tilting to one side, the Players had used as a barrier, collapsed onto a whole crowd of Players and demons, sending the Players to their virtual afterlife. 

After completing its task, the Demon paused for a moment, recalculating what happened with its virtual mind; after all, it had done this in an attempt to create a path to the Players, but the players it was trying to reach died in the attempt to create that very path. Could this be considered a success or not? From the AI's perspective; no, since it didn't fulfill the given task of ‘creating’ a path to the Players. 

But from my point of view? Absolutely yes! But I'll still have to mark the actions as a one-off until better times. After all, if the mobs start using tactics and strategy at this point, the Players won't stand a chance at all.

So with a clear conscience, I marked the solution as a ‘no’, but made a note to return to it later when I have more mobs with intelligence. Ones that I could make around a hundred, instead of the forty I assigned to the Lesser demon of Disbelief. 

Satisfied that I’ve created a proper terror for the Players, I moved my attention to the raid boss.

Unlike all other mobs, that one was directly controlled by an AI, and therefore didn't particularly need to be automated, especially with the amount of spells and options I had given it. To be more specific, what could be more common in games than a fireball and fire arrow?

The Prophet had only managed to use the fireball spell a couple of times, though, on the groups of clustered Players when they first rushed at him. When the Players saw what happened when they ball up, they scattered, so now the Raid Boss was mostly using Fire Bolts; and using it quite skillfully too!

A fire arrow penetrated the average wall of a house in the Ruined City and didn't lose any momentum at all, since it was marked as a magical attack, not a physical object. It became an unpleasant surprise for the Players hiding in the ruined buildings, or behind walls, hoping that they could find shelter from the Prophet. A Raid Boss who was wandering around the City with a single purpose, to clear out the first group of Players. 

Another shot through, and another Player was sent for a two-hour respawn; another, and the next one, joined their departed comrade.

I, in turn, watching this scene, started becoming hesitant – should I give the Players such a spell? Well, after a second of thought, I could only say that I have some doubts. 

The closest spell I could compare to what the Prophet was using now, the spell ‘Magic Arrow’, as I’ve coded them, had barely disturbed the balance of power. The simple restriction of ‘instantly scatter upon collision with a physical object’ limits it greatly. 

If the target was a player or mob, damage was dealt to them. If the target struck was an inanimate object, as much as that word applies to mobs at all, then the visual effect simply didn't activate the damage algorithm.

In this way, the ability to shoot magical arrows didn't particularly change the face of war, not to mention that the number of Players with the spell were still few. But a Fire Bolt spell that pierces through obstacles? That was more serious, as I didn't want to make the mages undefeatable, especially considering that giving them such a capability meant that it had to be balanced with other special abilities for the other ‘classes’…

As I am thinking on what to do, the Prophet came to a group of Players huddling inside a building.

The Prophet, taking a few more steps, stopped, ‘looked’ at the Players hiding behind a wall, and ‘noted’ an open window. Without even taking a pause, he lobbed a Fireball into the ceiling, where it instantly exploded, taking three more Players to respawn, thereby putting an end to my musings. 

At least that one spell’s availability needed no thinking. No.

I won't give Fireball to Players yet, but let them have Fire Bolt in exchange, otherwise they'll complain even more. Which meant that I'll also need to come up with a couple of abilities of similar level for other Players, and generally need to rework the other Activated Abilities System. 

Names like ‘strong hit’, ‘quick strike’, and ‘block’ have been bothering me for too long anyway.

My thoughts about Active abilities and how to properly name them without drowning in clichés simultaneously, however, were interrupted a moment later when a figure flew through me. I was glad that I hadn't disabled my intangibility and incorporeality, or the impact would have been a big and very interesting discovery for the Player. 

A player who had miraculously learned to… Fly?

A moment later, the Mad Prophet recoiled, and I watched in horror as his health dropped by a good quarter, causing the world to slow down while my rapidly moving pupils found the cause of such an incredible event.

Signia's airship, in fact, all the other airships, was itself a big problem for me to create obstacles for Players. It was hard to make choke points and worthy opponents when Players could simply fly around them in an airship straight to the treasures. So, I was glad for the opportunity to get rid of it by using Sturm and Double. 

After all, even if they used it recklessly and continued to ignore the traps I'd set, at least there were only two players and an NPC team, they couldn't disrupt the game too much for other Players.

So I, without much hesitation, even allowed Signia to listen to Players' suggestions, and gave them a rope ladder to descend into the Ruined City from the floating airship. Well, that was fine and dandy until a single, small, detail slipped my attention.

Sturm’s sword, an ‘Easter egg’ of sorts, a prize for the lucky Player that found it, was one of the earliest ‘weapons’ that I had created. One that I had created before I reworked the whole materials system with durability and momentum, and so on.

I haven’t changed that parameters yet with Sturm’s sword, making it, to all extent and purposes; indestructible. 

So, putting all those factors together? Well, Sturm invented Airship Cavalry Jousting.

Having lowered the ladder from the airship, Sturm descended, barely high enough to miss the ground, after which he convinced Signia to accelerate the airship and to turn sharply. Like a pendulum, the edge of the rope ladder swung rapidly, using the inertia of the moving ladder and flying airship, and crashed into the Prophet at full speed. After which, considering the fact that the sword in Sturm's hands was both an ‘indestructible’ and an ‘immovable’ object, Sturm not only didn't fly off and wasn't smeared by collision inertia, but only shifted his grip on the sword more comfortably. He pulled the rope ladder, signaling Signia to turn for the next pass. 

In other words, Sturm planned to beat the Prophet in four or five jousting passes.

And I, hanging in the air, was forced to watch this scene and think whether players should really be given anything besides ‘strong hit’ or not.

After all, they'd invent a nuclear bomb from any handout I give them.

They sure as hell would.