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PvPBy John M. ShadeHe stood to the side while the army prayed. His arms were folded across hischest, his back to the wall of the hallway heading out of the locker room. Eyes to theground, he had a subtle grin about him. He’d always found it silly to pray before a battle,a siege, a war. They were all just flickers of lightning on a motherboard. It was a randomroll that they’d live or die, win or lose. If anything, he thought, they should beworshipping the dice, and not the code that governed them.Their plate armor creaked when they stood, the priest anointing the closest onewith a quick blessing and a few drops of water.“Buffbot,” the army’s leader, Kara, said to the short pudgy young man in a browncloth tunic and pants with his back against the wall, “Chop chop.”His real name was Shicky, and he was a buffbot. He was almost sure she wastapping at the top of her wrist as if she had a watch under those master-crafted gauntletsshe had on. But he couldn’t see through the rest of the army.
 
Shade/2There were cloth mages and wizards blocking his view, ones with pointy hats andlarge sneers. There were warriors and all other types of melee in various forms of platewith large axes, pole arms, spears, and shields and some were in chain with dual wieldswords or axes, healers in cloth and healers in leather, plus a select few in chain withshields. All of them had that look of supreme confidence slapped across their faces. Andall of them were waiting for buffs.Shicky did like he always did. His job was simple, and easy, but necessary. Thewhole army arrayed before him in the massive stone locker room, he pushed off from thewall and strolled up within a few feet of a Minotaur barbarian named Kortho. Theminotaur was clad in chain, with a giant golden two-handed axe on his back and, fromwhat Shicky remembered, he had a bad temper most of the time. The Mino snorted whenShicky put his hand out and touched the big cow’s chest, the chain rattling a little.Through the Minotaur Shicky transmitted all the main buffs: constitution, dexterity, hit points, mana, strength, and a little intelligence for the hot shot casters. A ripple of auroralight spread quickly outward and Shicky looked past the Mino so he could see that he goteveryone. When he was satisfied, he did the single targets for the melee and the casters.And then his job was over.“Alright guys,” Kara said with an amplified voice, “This one’s a big one, they allare. We’ve practiced the new strategy and you all know your place. Stay together, avoidthe zerg, and let’s go defend our tower.”They yelled and cheered, arms and weapons and magic thrown in the air likesome kind of pre-victory celebration. They were the best server army on the network.Shicky could only think of only one other that might be a match for them, and that was
 
Shade/3Keular’s army. But he was rich, and his army was made up of mercenaries. He hadrerolled his stats nearly a thousand times until he got the best ones on any server. It cost afortune.Kara on the other hand had kept her original stats. They were almost as good asKeular’s. Shicky watched her from time to time on the siege videos. She didn’t like tostrategize from the back, no, she issued orders from the front while cleaving some poor target’s face off with her greatsword. About as effective as it was fun to watch. Thosevideos usually got three to four million hits the week they were posted, and many more inthe weeks after.Shicky didn’t think it was that big a deal. He had grown tired of the videos, andhis non-involvement. Truth be told, he was more partial to romping around a fictionalworld with a select group of friends killing npc’s. A carebear by nature.The day Kara came to recruit him, he remembered the sweat building on her forehead, and the nervous look she got from being on a PvE server. He didn’t know it, but Shicky had had his stats rolled at just the right margins to become one of the best buffbots Kara had ever seen.He liked that feeling of being needed.The army was piling out of the locker room when he got back to his spot with his back against the wall. It was comfortable. He’d leaned there for eleven years and threethousand forty-two battles. And in every one of those he just watched the center floor of the locker room. There sometimes was a live feed for some of the larger city and keep
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