I was wandering around Troll Country and noticed on the map that the Destruction-held keep was under attack, so I thought I’d pop along and see what was happening. Combating the numerical superiority of Destruction would doubtless best be done with military discipline and logistics, but we’re rather too relaxed for that around here and thus instead opt for the Tourism With Extreme Prejudice model of sauntering around going “oh Lavinia said this little castle was simply *adorable*, I must go and have a look-see”, complaining about the food and setting fire to anything that moves.
Sure enough the doors of the keep had been battered down by an impressive-looking ram, and our heroic forces were polishing off a last few NPC defenders around it while a couple of Chaotic individuals looked down from the battlements muttering something about “fetchez la vache”. In we piled, and thus began what I now understand to be a vital element of the siege: standing on the stairs. In the department store of the keep, ground floor is the invading army, cosmetics and ladieswear; first floor is the Keep Lord, assorted cohorts and the cafe; the second floor is renown gear vendors, lingerie and enemy players chucking the odd axe or spell. The only way up is a narrow staircase, though fortunately the Keep Lord is incredibly short sighted and can only spot you as you step off the stairs on his floor. Get back on the stairs, and he’s perfectly happy to toddle back to his starting location (regenerating to full health as he does), with a sarcastic comment about trying to pull him. Once everyone is bunched up on the stairs, you can commence the next phase of the siege, the hokey cokey. Someone edges forward from the stairs, four Champions and a Hero jump on them, they rapidly back off, the NPCs reset. You put your Elf Tank in, the Elf Tank runs out, in, out, in, out, a certain amount of shaking all about transpires. Tired of this nonsense, somebody takes charge in warband chat, issuing a decisive order to “GO GO GO!”, the raid surges forward expectantly, then a couple of people get cold feet and the collision detection of WAR comes into its own as everybody piles into the back of them and falls over. Well, they don’t actually fall over, that would be too much to ask, but the raid moves forward just enough for the lead few not to be able to get back onto the stairs, at which point you kick off the final part of the siege, Realising There Aren’t Nearly Enough Of You And Suddenly Remembering You Really Have To Be Somewhere Else. Oh my, is that the time?