While I still have a Warhammer account (thanks for asking) I have not found much to write about concerning the game which hasn’t already been said. In fact, aside from the Wilhelm/Potshot instance group, I have not been able to play much during the week. Mining in EVE, with the new Hulk/Retriever setup is sufficiently mindless and allows me to be a dad, do work for school, etc.
Mindless mission running is what I was engaged in last night, as I worked through a 10 part storyline mission for the Amarr Navy. Every other one is a courier mission, and I break out the Drake for those out of impatience–they Rokh turns slow, warps slow, and is generally just a big DPS machine, not a decent mode of transport. The decision to run with the Drake saved a full set of implants last night.
I headed to the first gate, intent on finishing up this last courier mission before turning in for the night–I had been mining and running missions most of the evening and was a bit fatigued. My lethargy led to a moments hesitation, when warping into the first gate I was greeted with a highlighted-yellow pilot icon, sporting a large red star. I don’t think it even registered what that meant as he began to flash red. I am still not brave enough to use autopilot so I was within jump distance. Hitting the gate I quickly set up to warp to my next waypoint.
Too late–he was on me, and I was scrambled. My velocity began to bottom out and his drones were already on the way. Denied another gate, I turned towards the one I just came through–12 klicks away. In the meantime I opened up with seven heavy launchers and five Hobgoblin IIs. This was almost a fatal mistake. My booster kept the shield relatively in tact for 10 km, as I spammed the jump button, only noticing on the fifth or sixth click a message: “Due to your recent acts of aggression, you are not allowed to jump” or something to that effect.
I pulled in the drones, shut down the missiles, more in an attempt to save cap and the hope to warp out at some point. There was a barely discernable sliver of red damage on his shield–not even an annoyance for him. I was still being scrambled periodically, and apparently webbed as well, judging from the wild swings in velocity. The cap failed, and in perhaps half a second my shield was gone and my armor dropped in half. And the gate worked. I was through, and headed back into the station I had just left. Either he didn’t realize what I was doing headed back towards the gate, or he thought I would die before I got through. The enemy ship was a good 12 km from the gate when I left, giving me time to escape with my implants still in my head.
The rest of the night I spent looking over my shoulder, fitting a cloak on my ships, and generally worrying that when I get to 0.0 I’m going to be killed a lot. Potshot reminded me it was my idea to join a corp that operated in 0.0–I guess this is my just reward. A bit of Shakespeare popped into my head when I limped into my home station. Battered and damaged, I had survived a pretty lopsided encounter.
What though the mast be now blown overboard,
The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
And half our sailors swallow’d in the flood?
Yet lives our pilot still.
Henry VI, Scene IV Act V