So I've returned to an old carebear corporation of mine as the leader of their wormhole space operations. Now, I'm not a master at it by any means, but I know a bit more about the dangerous aspects of wormhole space, how to prevent them and how to perpetrate them upon others.
That being the case, I think it's about time I wrote up a brief explanation of how I like to do things. Being the good wormholer that I am, I'll post this information publicly in that hopes that everyone who sucks worse than I do can read this and suck a little bit less.
I'm not sure what to call my particular method in practicing PvP activities. I've always participated in PvP as if I were doing it for real.
For starters I stay out of sight. All predators utilize the element of surprise. It's a valuable advantage and shouldn't be squandered.
Secondly, I do my best to establish a comprehensive picture of the environment and my target. In wormhole space that means I'm usually scanning down all the sigs and doing recon on all the systems around me to understand where my target came from, where he's going and who might be around to help him or hinder me.
I learned early on - a baptism by fire, if you will - that actions based on good, complete intel dictate the outcome of the fight. What's funny is that these aren't new ideas. Some old, dead guy wrote The Art of War a while back and he spells out all these things in detail. If you've never read it you should.
At any rate, once I have all that situational awareness and intel that I'm looking for I make a judgement call on whether or not the conditions favor me. If I think I can swing a successful engagement I'll go for it. If not I'll go elsewhere.
Lesson over. Now go, my children, and commit space-murder.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Dictator Perpetuo
In 49BC Julius Caesar was elected Dictator in the Roman Republic. Dictator was an office occupied only in times of dire emergency and in order to resolve very specific issues. In the years 48-45BC Caesar was elected to the same office until being named as Perpetual Dictator - often referred to today as "Dictator for Life" - in 44BC.
He was assassinated several weeks later.
When my former corporation was disbanded I found myself wandering aimlessly through w-space. I didn't want to join a large alliance and deal with the drama inherent to such organizations. I desired the simple life of exploring the unknown and butchering helpless passersby.
Ironically, I found that my thoughts were constantly drawn to a corporation I'd previously worked with. Ironic, because I'd left them about a year previously to seek out bloodier pastures.
The corporation I was thinking of was Cosmology, a serious industrial corp that had a feeble presence in class 3 space. I contacted their CEO and because of my new experience in merciless slaughter as well as prior exemplary conduct in Cosmology I was offered the opportunity to re-join the ranks.
Appointed by the CEO as "Wormhole Commander" to take the reigns of the corporation's ops in w-space and armed with a Director role I've seized the title "Wormhole Dictator for Life."
It's been 2 weeks for me. Let's hope I can outlast the mighty Caesar.
He was assassinated several weeks later.
When my former corporation was disbanded I found myself wandering aimlessly through w-space. I didn't want to join a large alliance and deal with the drama inherent to such organizations. I desired the simple life of exploring the unknown and butchering helpless passersby.
Ironically, I found that my thoughts were constantly drawn to a corporation I'd previously worked with. Ironic, because I'd left them about a year previously to seek out bloodier pastures.
The corporation I was thinking of was Cosmology, a serious industrial corp that had a feeble presence in class 3 space. I contacted their CEO and because of my new experience in merciless slaughter as well as prior exemplary conduct in Cosmology I was offered the opportunity to re-join the ranks.
Appointed by the CEO as "Wormhole Commander" to take the reigns of the corporation's ops in w-space and armed with a Director role I've seized the title "Wormhole Dictator for Life."
It's been 2 weeks for me. Let's hope I can outlast the mighty Caesar.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
The Summer of Swag
The guys in Cold Moon Destruction are debased, violent, emotionally
abusive, trolling, 100% all gay, godless, immoral sons of whores. If I
ever had friends I'd never met they are it.
I can barely remember not having flown with Cold Moon. It seems like forever since I joined - probably because of No'Wai's proliferation of anti-straight propaganda, Torshawna's absentee-ism, Atom's endless complaining, Terumah's propensity for leading us to believe our static wasn't spawning, Everlast's desire to instigate trouble and me constantly being kicked to the em0 Scissor room mid-sentence. Of course, let's not forget Henry's uncanny ability to harvest an entire Instrumental with his army of alts before anyone else could land on grid or Fischey's scanning (and dying) in Tech1 frigates for months on end.
Honestly I don't know how we survived for as long as we have, but our time is almost up. The Summer of Swag is winding down and Cold Moon Destruction draws its last few breaths.
As we all go our separate ways I'd like to reminisce about our last glorious fight, a fitting end to the Summer of Swag.
http://kb.cldmn-destruction.com/?a=kill_related&kll_id=303
The Aztechs were looking for a fight and we determined to give them what for. Carriers and dreadnoughts were boarded. Support ships were readied. Scouts were already relaying intel from the hostile system and once everyone gave the good-to-go we warped our fleet onto the wormhole, held by a paltry token force.
We knew there would be more.
The Aztechs did not disappoint. While their swarm of Legions unleashed a debilitating torrent of energy neutralizers against our carrier pilot their Guardians formed a logistics chain we couldn't break. Their sub-capital assault ships held us down until their own dreadnoughts made it to the field and established their dominance without mercy.
Outnumbered 3-to-1 and without support we broke away from the engagement with what few sub-capitals we could, but that cannot be counted as any worth. The Aztech dreadnought fire ripped through our own capital hulls and whether anyone knew it or not the explosions were the death knells of Cold Moon Destruction.
No one regrets this. It is the natural order of things.
So, my CLDMN space-bros, this is it. We've murdered more things than I can count, relentlessly trolled every kind-hearted person we've encountered, mastered space that most people will never see and some will never learn of.
It's been fun and I love you like a dog loves a hump-toy.
Yolo swag.
I can barely remember not having flown with Cold Moon. It seems like forever since I joined - probably because of No'Wai's proliferation of anti-straight propaganda, Torshawna's absentee-ism, Atom's endless complaining, Terumah's propensity for leading us to believe our static wasn't spawning, Everlast's desire to instigate trouble and me constantly being kicked to the em0 Scissor room mid-sentence. Of course, let's not forget Henry's uncanny ability to harvest an entire Instrumental with his army of alts before anyone else could land on grid or Fischey's scanning (and dying) in Tech1 frigates for months on end.
Honestly I don't know how we survived for as long as we have, but our time is almost up. The Summer of Swag is winding down and Cold Moon Destruction draws its last few breaths.
As we all go our separate ways I'd like to reminisce about our last glorious fight, a fitting end to the Summer of Swag.
http://kb.cldmn-destruction.com/?a=kill_related&kll_id=303
The Aztechs were looking for a fight and we determined to give them what for. Carriers and dreadnoughts were boarded. Support ships were readied. Scouts were already relaying intel from the hostile system and once everyone gave the good-to-go we warped our fleet onto the wormhole, held by a paltry token force.
We knew there would be more.
The Aztechs did not disappoint. While their swarm of Legions unleashed a debilitating torrent of energy neutralizers against our carrier pilot their Guardians formed a logistics chain we couldn't break. Their sub-capital assault ships held us down until their own dreadnoughts made it to the field and established their dominance without mercy.
Outnumbered 3-to-1 and without support we broke away from the engagement with what few sub-capitals we could, but that cannot be counted as any worth. The Aztech dreadnought fire ripped through our own capital hulls and whether anyone knew it or not the explosions were the death knells of Cold Moon Destruction.
No one regrets this. It is the natural order of things.
So, my CLDMN space-bros, this is it. We've murdered more things than I can count, relentlessly trolled every kind-hearted person we've encountered, mastered space that most people will never see and some will never learn of.
It's been fun and I love you like a dog loves a hump-toy.
Yolo swag.
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