What If I Told You?

Greetings Traveler,

OK, a little cheat here. This tidbit has been sitting in my drafts for years–nearly eight, actually. I would like to get more creative writing in, but it required a certain mood. By way of explanation, this is my Illuminati character from The Secret World.

What if I told you that it's all real? What if I told you an army brat from Texas could find herself in the middle of one of the biggest conspiracies on the planet? I'm just a humble history professor. I almost had my tenure. Little did I know that it was not the fancy college education and degrees from ivied halls that would be most useful in my life. Instead it was the hours on the shooting range that Daddy dragged us to from the time I was five until I departed for said ivory towers.

Daddy was a Vietnam vet. Not one of those acidhead burnouts. He assisted in the evacuation of Saigon, then made a career of it. He made sure his whole brood could fire any number of different guns. Rifles, pistols, shotguns—you name it, I've squeezed the trigger. Among my brothers and sisters, I was always the most natural shot; but since the Bees came, my aim is downright uncanny. Big Bro followed in Daddy's footsteps, got into West Point and everything. He's a Light Colonel now, I think. Daddy was slightly disappointed that I didn't go the military route myself. But there was still no room for women in the infantry when I came of age, and I didn't need to play Army a couple times a year and spend the rest behind a desk or pulling weeds. And I wasn't about to become some G.I. Jane parody.

Oh, to be sure, my current employers take plenty of advantage of my skill in libraries and literature. But on such missions, I feel more like a Tomb Raider than a scholar, like my recent trip to Salamanca. They just had to have that Loyola manuscript. Turns out the accusations were correct, but like all true Illuminati, Ignatius escaped prosecution.

Anyway, so I went from pantsuits to jeans and camo jackets, unless I need to look the part of the university professor again. KG calls me her Lone Star Belle. A real NYC bitch, that one—or maybe La La Land. I hate The City, regardless of the coast it's on.

When I first joined the Firm, I hadn't held a weapon in years. They frown on that sort of thing in Academia. I actually thought I would try the fist claws. I love Hugh Jackman—couldn't imagine anyone else as the Wolverine (Dougray who?). And that X-factor healing ain't got nothin' on the Bees. The claws aren't as easy as they look, though.

Eventually, I settled on an array of firearms. See these pistols? My great grandfather wore them. Colt M1873s. Other folks use newer pieces, but there's a certain feel to the Peacemaker, especially since they're family heirlooms. Don't you worry about the "limited capacity" of a six-shooter. I haven't used bullets since Solomon Island.

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This article from I Have Touched the Sky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. If you repost part or all of the work (for non-commercial purposes), please cite me as the author and include a link back to the blog.

Scooter proofreads almost all my articles before I post them, for which I am very grateful. However, any mistakes are mine and mine alone (unless otherwise noted). If you are reading this post through RSS or Atom feed—especially more than a couple hours after publication—I encourage you to visit the actual page, as I often make refinements after publication. The mobile version also loses some of the original character of the piece due to simplified formatting.

The Venetian Chronicles

A fellow Secret Worlder going by the name Yuuko Shirakawa is soliciting In-Character interviews for her. Since I have a Twitter account for LoneStarBelle, I offered to participate. The transcript of the interview follows. You can find other interviews and other examples of Yuuko's TSW-related fictional work at Xencraft's Pastebin.

The Venetian Chronicles: Dr. Samantha Hawthorn

Yuuko: (fumbling with the camera before mounting it on a tripod. Before adjusting the focus on the camera and clearing her throat) This is Council envoy Yuuko Shirakawa, agent of the Dragon, and historian for the archives in Dublin, Ireland. As part of the Chronicles initiative, I am interviewing active agents from the 21st century so that future generations may better understand the context in which events are taking place. This session is being recorded on 03-30-2016 in Greenfield Ireland, at the Green residence.

Yuuko: Could you please state your full name, date of birth, affiliation and rank.

Dr. Hawthorn: Samantha Jayne Hawthorn, PhD. I am sometimes known as “LoneStarBelle,” but you can call me Sam. Let’s just say I was in my late 20s when I was recruited into the Illuminati, where I currently hold the rank of Visionary, though that really only means KG doesn’t mess with me anymore.

Yukko: Can you tell us about your family?

Sam: We’re not super close, especially since I moved to New York. My mom lives in the Hill Country region of Texas; Dad passed away a few years ago. I have an older brother and sister, both of whom live in Dallas with their families.

Yuuko: Where did you grow up?

Sam: Since my dad was in the U.S. Army, we moved around quite a bit when I was a kid. But mostly Texas, with a chunk of my teenage years based in Germany.

Yuuko: How would you describe your childhood?

Sam: Well, I was quite a tomboy. I loved comic books, hunting and camping, going to the shooting range with my dad. It wasn’t until I was older that I became interested in History, which is what my degrees are in.

Yuuko: How were you first introduced to the secret world?

Sam: I started having strange dreams, and discovered I had a power I had never heard of before. It wasn’t long before I got a visit from a fast-talking huckster, who turned out to be a representative of the Illuminati.

Yuuko: Did you have any contact (either directly or indirectly) with your society before your powers awakened?

Sam: No. Ironically, I wrote my dissertation on the Templar Order. At least, the Templars acknowledged by history. I was actually really upset when I discovered they are still operating and failed to contact me before the Illuminati.

Yuuko: Does anima sensitivity run in your family or are you the only one to develop powers?

Sam: As far as I know, I am the only one. Certainly no one in my immediate family has any apparent connection to the Secret World.

Yuuko: Can you tell us what a normal day looks like for you?

Sam: I’m actually semi-retired from fieldwork. I was originally recruited into Documents Acquisition, collecting rare tomes and parchments where they are in hazard zones, or sometimes simply if the Organization has an interest in them. However, now I spend more time in the Archives, cataloguing, researching. Boring stuff I suppose, but I love it.

Yuuko: Has your work for your society ever brought you into contact with anyone who would be considered historically significant (world leaders, celebrities, scientist and engineers.)

Sam: I can’t say that my *work* has ever put me in the same room with anyone famous. But Lumies do throw great parties, if you know what I mean.

Yuuko: Have you ever seen an event reported in the media and known that it was a lie and if so can you tell us what really happened?

Sam: Let’s just say that Daesh didn’t manage to destroy everything of significance in Palmyra.

Yuuko: What was the last event you can remember that shook both the secret world and the mundane equally?

Sam: Events in the Secret World spillover into the mundane with alarming regularity. It’s a testament to the abilities of the Societies that most of it is played off in the press as terrorism or natural disaster, or contained outright, with the general public unaware anything has happened.

Yuuko: Have you ever participated in an event considered historically important to the mundane world and if so was it on behalf of your society

Sam: That depends on what you mean by historically significant. Despite my background, I tend to work with people trying to make sure events that might be worthy of inclusion in a history book don’t occur.

Yuuko: Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Dr. Hawthorn.

Sam: Thank you for the invitation. Ireland is lovely this time of year.

-End of file-

~~~~~~~~

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The Alexandria Initiative: The Will (Revised & Expanded)

By way of introduction, this is my entry into the first phase of the "Alexandria Initiative" writing contest, a fan-organized contest with venues on the The Secret Forums and councilofvenice.tumblr.com. It's an expansion of a story I previously posted here, but I hope you enjoy it.

~~~

Most people go through life on a sort of autopilot. Not that they can't make decisions, they just don't—beyond the trivial. They have no problem deciding what shirt to wear in the morning, but then simply fall into love affairs, careers . . . parenthood; perhaps even believing they are happy. They lack the Will to do otherwise. They follow instructions, they do what they're told. These are the sort you find are easily turned. They succumb to the Will of other, more powerful, forces, like sheep for the shearing—or cattle to the slaughter—realizing too late that they've never had the option in the first place.

A rare few have the power to exert their Will—their "Anima"—to withstand the influences of forces beyond the capacity of the rest to comprehend, or even perceive. In a population of billions, they number perhaps in the thousands. These few "Animated" individuals are all that stand between the sheep and the long cold night of oblivion.

"It's like shooting fish in a barrel," Xander Hayes quipped. The blond, blue-eyed Canadian took aim at the barnacle-encrusted behemoth over the sea wall where he and Sam had taken cover. Whereas Sam's rifle was a up-converted M4 MWS, Hayes sported an Orochi Occultech rifle. ("I like to call it Hard Rain," he'd said.) On semi-auto, he made short work of the incubators that had begun to advance on their position. Sam focused on the big one. The red and gray creature screamed in pain and anger, recoiling briefly before renewing its advance.

Unlike the soggy former residents of Kingsmouth, the beast they fought now was clearly from the depths. It towered at least four meters, with giant lobster claws and a gaping, saw-toothed maw in its torso. And still it advanced, despite Sam emptying a full clip into it. Almost within striking distance, it reared up.

"Time to go," said Hayes, as he dodged to his right, out of the blast wave. Sam wasn't so quick, and the spray of water knocked her on her back. Chunks of seawall went flying. Sputtering, she looked up as the creature raised its claw to impale her. The small hairs on her arms stood on end as a tendril of brilliant white flashed into view, enveloping the creature and causing it to seize up for an instant. Momentarily forgetting Sam, it turned toward the source of its new pain, Xander. As it lumbered toward him, Sam dragged out her own claws and leapt onto the beast's back.

She failed to gain purchase and tumbled off. The Canadian was driving fireballs into the creature's maw. Sam jumped again—more determined this time—and drove her claws into the creature's back, using them to climb higher. The beast screamed in pain and anger, but Sam made it to the shoulders. With one set of claws embedded for leverage, she stabbed into the creature's head with the other. Over and over, she drove in her claws as the beast flailed its pincers, unable to reach her. Xander kept up his fiery assault as the creature stumbled and fell.

The impact threw Sam clear of the carcass. As she lay there trying to catch her breath, Xander came and stood over her.

"You all right?" he asked, lending a hand to help her up.

"Yeah, I think so." She looked down at her slacks and jacket, formerly so professorial, now drenched in seawater and gore.

"You ever read Harry Potter?"

She looked at the Canadian askance. "Yes, why?"

"Remember what it said about the Killing Curse, Avada Kedrava? You've got to mean it! I don't think you meant it until you got up on that beast's back."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Sam answered, bemused by his mispronunciation of the infamous spell.

Hayes peered at Sam intently. "I'm telling you, when you really mean it, you won't even need bullets in that gun." He then flashed her a grin. "Meanwhile, you'd better reload."

Samantha sat near the back of the local church. She wasn't religious, too much time spent studying the influence of dogmas on history. But now, she'd seen the realities behind a few of the myths, terrifying realities. She needed time to think, and the sanctuary seemed an appropriate place to mull things over. She stared at the business card Xander had given her, inviting her to a meeting in London. "Beyond the Veil," it read, promising further knowledge, perhaps? But the last time she accepted such an invitation, she'd fallen down a deeper rabbit hole than she could possibly have imagined.

The local pastor, the Reverend Henry Hawthorne, came and sat beside her in the pew.

"You seem a little more thoughtful than many of my current crop of visitors, my dear. What's on your mind?"

"What isn't on my mind? My world has been turned upside down. Just days ago I was a simple college professor. Now I am expected to take up arms in some conflict I knew nothing of before. Not just some cold war between ancient conspiracies that pull the strings on world politics, but a fight for existence against even more ancient things that care nothing for the petty power plays of the human race. We may as well be warring ant colonies. I don't know what to make of the creatures we face out there. The dead rising, but not alive. Lovecraftian sea monsters. What's next, giant insects and walking scarecrows?"

"Actually I have heard rumors," he answered, scratching his chin absently. "But never mind that. The surviving townsfolk are grateful for your help. With enough—special—reinforcements, perhaps we can stem the tide and bury our dead."

"How can we fight this?" she asked. She shook her head. "How can we possibly hope to win against a relentless bombardment that drives us mad and can't be killed?"

The pastor stared up at the altar, pondering. She followed his gaze to the candles burning there.

"You know the funny thing about Darkness?" Hawthorne asked, then answered his own question. "It can be driven away by the light of a single flame. You know, at its heart, that is the creed of the Illuminati, the Enlightened Ones."

He held up his Bible. "The Good Book is full of such imagery. 'Ye are the light of the world… Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.'

"The World is a dark place, my dear. Shadowy forces seek to destroy it, to devour it whole. But Gaia is strong, she calls forth bright warriors to fight the Darkness. Of course, we may disagree on how that battle should be fought, and who should lead it. But the Three will prevail, complementing each other's strengths while compensating for each other's weaknesses. Rest assured of that."

~~~

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. If you are reading this post through RSS or Atom feed—especially more than a couple hours after publication—I encourage you to visit the actual page, as I often make refinements after the fact. The mobile version also loses some of the original character of the piece due to simplified formatting.

Secret Friends

Besides a trip to see The Lego Movie last night with Scooter, I spend a huge chunk of yesterday playing The Secret World with friends from Beyond the Veil. One thing that is actually pretty cool about running the Flappy raid is that I frequently see folks from the Twitterverse RP community running around. My latest sighting was of Raven Corvalis (I think that was actually Wednesday or Friday.)

On Saturday, Galactrix (a.k.a. Exceeder) promptly invited me to a small group along with AsianSpice. (Unfortunately, no pics. But you get the idea.) After the Flappy fight, Galactrix offered to help me with some XP getting / achievement finishing, so we headed off to the Shadowy Forest to complete some missions. The first one we did was "Last Dance of the Pădurii," one of the very few open world missions that seem to require a group. Having done this in the past with a group of five (Knights of Mercy), I can say that it's actually easier with two. Of course, Exceeder's and Samantha's 10+ gear may have helped.

We then decided to do a few others I needed, like "Six Feet Under" and then "Crossroads," where we picked up another friend, Penelope "Sugartruck" Croft.

Sugartruck then suggested we run "Knight of the Drăculești." It was a quick job with the three of us, and we finished just in time for another Flappy run.

By then, several other members of Beyond the Veil had logged in, and we did a quick run of Hell Eternal—partly because I had picked up "Paradise Now" at the same as "Crossroads." We made short work of the Elite dungeon, not running the Nightmare because of lockouts and scheduling conflicts of some members of the group.

As an aside, I want to comment again on the the art of TSW. There were those at launch who bemoaned the "ugly" character models we had to work with. I think that may have been a failing of the lighting, etc., on the character creation screen. But I didn't have a problem creating characters (male and female) that I think are attractive. Isn't Samantha gorgeous?

~~~

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. If you are reading this post through RSS or Atom feed—especially more than a couple hours after publication—I encourage you to visit the actual page, as I often make refinements after the fact. The mobile version also loses some of the original character of the piece due to simplified formatting.

Like a Stroll in the Park

A snippet of a story project I'm working on.

Samantha stepped out of the portal, and the stench of the corrupt sea hit her. The ancient Viking longboat was like an old friend that she would have been happy never to see again. There was a chill in the air she hadn't expected. The Five Burroughs were sweltering in the dog days of July, but the Fog had somehow locked Kingsmouth Town in an eternal October. She walked down the draw, sighting Boone's camp just off the road.

"Dr. Hawthorn!" he greeted her as she approached. "Long time, no see."

"I'm surprised you remember me, Mr. Boone," she replied.

"Call it a knack. It's my business to remember folks. How've you been? Looks like your adventures have taken you to sunnier climes."

"I've been everywhere, it seems. Ms. Geary keeps me busy."

He chuckled.

"And how is Kiki these days?"

Sam grinned.

"She's fine, I suppose—as long you don't call her that to her face."

"Fair enough," Boone smiled.

"Well, I want to check in on the folks in town before . . . Say, you don't happen to have seen a new group of Orochi agents around, have you?"

"Not any new ones. Just the folks out on the bridge north of town, and at the airport. And at the base camp. Y'know? There are an awful lot of those corporate types around. But I haven't seen any new ones. Of course, you don't all come by here to chat."

"True. All right, then. I'll see you 'round, I guess."

"Keep your head down," Boone tipped his hat, and Sam returned the gesture with a smile as she strode off toward town.

~~~

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. If you are reading this post through RSS or Atom feed—especially more than a couple hours after publication—I encourage you to visit the actual page, as I often make refinements after the fact. The mobile version also loses some of the original character of the piece due to simplified formatting.

Winter Wonderland

I spent some time last night hanging out with my friends from Beyond the Veil, recording the last episode of the year. While we were talking about the latest event, Krampusnacht, I bought some festive garb for my clotheshorse, LoneStarBelle. I even got her to pose for a pic in Carpathian Fangs, although she wasn't happy about it:

LoneStarBelle: The Phoenician Agenda

This picks up where this other tale by Katzushima leaves off. Katzu already had something published by the time I got this "on paper." But you know what? We're all the hero of our own story. :) Not sure how we'll continue this, I may edit and reuse some of this later, but wanted to get something out for Action Monday.

Much as she wouldn't have minded kicking Majors in the ribs herself, Samantha was not about to stand by while the Phoenician leader beat the shit out of him. She strode up behind the man and put her hand on his shoulder. Summoning a bit of elemental power, she deadened his nerves, which rendered his arm useless. As he turned in reaction, he found one of her Colt Pythons pressed against his rib cage.

Samantha leaned in close to the Phoenician and whispered in his ear, "Y'know, I don't think anyone here besides your friends would particularly mind if I made a corpse o'you."

The Phoenician's cohorts started to draw their weapons, but not before a pinstriped figure stepped out of the shadows, guns akimbo.

"Now, now, lads. That'd be a very poor choice of action," Alasdair said affably, letting his pistols provide the menace. The Templar nodded at Sam.

The Phoenician delegate already at the reception came over just as Consigliere Castiglione appeared, a small contingent of Council security personnel close behind him.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked the Italian.

The Phoenician thug spoke first, gesturing at the Golden Way agent. "This woman has stolen something from us."

"I believe you may have misspoken, sir," said Castiglione. "The report I received was that she has stolen from the Council. Therefore, Council Security will investigate the matter. But I thank you for your concern."

The Phoenician delegate fumed, "This is outrageous! The Brotherhood cries for justice!"

"I assure you that justice will be served. Meanwhile, your men have disturbed this gathering, and if they cannot abide in peace I must ask them to leave."

Glancing around, the Phoenician leader assessed the precariousness of his position.

"Very well, Consigliere," he moved out of Samantha's grasp, and turned to her. "You I will not forget." He spat on Majors, who was still on the ground.

With that, the Phoenician glanced at the Golden Way agent, who had been taken into custody by two Council security officers, and stalked out of the Library.

Castiglione glanced an order to the security guards flanking the girl, who frogmarched her towards their offices. Nodding at Samantha, he stalked off. With an amused expression, Alasdair reached down to help Majors get up.

Taking the gesture of help, Majors quipped, "Nice suit, Fairholm. Where'd you pick it up, Couturier Corleone?"

Alasdair pushed his hat toward the back of his head. "Soprano & Sons. I love your cologne. Lynchburg Musk?"

"Touché." Majors turned to Samantha. "Hawthorn, I oughtta string you up. When are you going to learn to follow orders?"

"You're welcome," she said sarcastically. She looked around to find the Golden Way delegation had melted away into the now remixing crowd. "I follow orders, just not yours. Thanks for backing my play, Alasdair."

"Anytime, Sam. Even if it means saving this clown's ass." Alasdair wandered off into the stacks again.

Majors huffed. "I'm not kidding, LoneStar. If you fuck up this mission, you won't see fresh air until Ragnarok."

"Aw, Katzu," she smiled in mock sympathy. "Ragnarok has already started. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an assignment to complete, one you yourself arranged." And with that she walked off in search of Lugosi.

Majors stared at her as she left, fuming. Xander came and stood next him.

"She is so damn aggravating," Majors said. "What does the Eye see in her?"

"Well," said Xander. "She gets results, despite—or maybe because of—the drummer she marches to. And—except Antida, of course—there isn't another person on this planet I'd rather have watching my back."

Beyond the Veil: Stir of Echoes Redux

On Saturday night, the BtV crew had an exciting event (well exciting for us, anyway), a reprise of "Stir of Echoes," the investigation mission we presented on our Anniversary show. Due to other (official) events going on at the time, many people didn't have the opportunity to complete the mission in July.

The BtV crew warmed up by running Slaughterhouse Elite, and I have a better idea now how to organize this evening's NKL-107 fight with Dortmunder and the Knights of Mercy's Fire Team Bravo. Pumped up by a successful run, we got in position to start the "Stir of Echoes—Redux."

A large (for us) crowd had gathered in Agartha by the currently unused portal "down the hill" from Seoul. We were joined in game and on the show by TSW's Lead Designer Tilty, Community Manager Sezmra, and Lead Writer Scrivnomancer, who all played through the mission, as well. I was especially nervous about Scrivnomancer's participation because, while Xander outlined the plot of the mission, much of the text was written or refined by this humble blogger. But Scriv reassured us that we had done well in capturing the feel of TSW and particularly the "voice " of Mme. Rogêt.

All in all, about 40 people ran through the mission over the course of two hours, with members of the BtV crew serving in the roles of various NPCs. They braved zombies, haunted houses, and the dreaded boss encounter, "Error 500," in search of a lost soul with a dark destiny. Everyone who completed the mission received a brand new "Beyond the Veil t-shirt, black" directly from Tilty himself. And a special congratulations goes to our winner, Alicia "Momentary" Villicana, who not only completed the mission first, but also beat the BtV crew record by about ten minutes. She would have been done even sooner if I had been in position a little earlier, myself. Momentary received 1200 Funcom points to spend in the Secret Store, a $10 value.

Thanks again to everyone who participated, we had a blast that night and were very humbled by the enthusiastic response from the totally awesome TSW community.

LoneStarBelle: The Sunken Library

I highly recommend this short story by Katzushima. The following continues from it and The Masquerade.

Sam loved the smell of old books. No matter how much information could be obtained online these days, there was nothing quite like wandering the stacks of a great library.

Venice's Sunken Library was one such place, though Sam was surprised at the humidity levels, wondering if there weren't a better place for these treasured tomes. Guests from the reception had filtered down into this maze, discussing various topics. On a lark, she'd talked Drake Kipling into chatting up John Majors about "the merits of the Templar approach" before seeking out Lugosi again. She laughed to herself, imagining John in misery listening to the Templar pontificating. Rivals though they may be, it paid to have actual friends in the other factions.

Majors' voice crackled over the tiny comms device in her ear. "Hawthorn, do that again and I'll have you steri-wiping the surgical suite for Zurn."

Sam rolled her eyes, but feigned innocence, "What? Isn't that what the Council is about; fostering understanding?"

"No. It's about providing us all a semi-legal eye on what the others are up to." And with that he cut comms.

"Pompous ass," Sam said to dead air. Steri-wiping the surgical suite!

She'd come around a bit to the Lumie philosophy, especially since the vote of confidence from the Pyramidion—over Kiki's objections at that. Sam often did not toe the party line. Not that the Templars were complete saints, either. Firebombing entire villages when more surgical methods would be appropriate didn't fit her definition of a reasonable group of people. But Majors had fully drunk the Illuminati Koolaid. The Eye appreciated that not all Visionaries had the same vision, even if Majors did not.

Chuckling to herself, she resolved to repay Kipling soon. Right now, she had a mission to complete. Presently, she found Lugosi refereeing an animated discussion about order and chaos between a Dragon and a Templar. She slipped her elbow into the crook of his.

"Signore, how about that tour you promised me?"

His eyes lit up, and he absently smoothed his comb-over. "I would be delighted, Dr. Hawthorn. If you'll excuse me, sir, madam."

Despite what she'd heard from Geary and others, the Council Archives weren't completely mired in the eighteenth century. In fact, that was about where the Archive digitization project had reached. They'd maintained original copies of centuries- and even millenia-old documents and tomes, but most of the information since the 1700s had been catalogued and was available on the Council intranet. In many ways, that made Sam's job easier.

"Signore Lugo—"

"Please, Doctor, call me Antal. And may I call you . . . ?"

She smiled, pouring on a little Southern charm. "Samantha."

Dazzled, he returned her smile. "Ah! what a beautiful name."

"Thank you, Antal. The work you are doing is amazing."

"Thank you, Samantha, we have a relatively small staff. There's not much prestige in cataloguing the exploits of others, even if it is necessary and sometimes distasteful."

"Distasteful?"

"Oh, yes. For instance—" Lugosi briefly searched the books in the stack they were walking past, before pulling a book off the shelf. "—have a look at this."

Samantha opened the book, a fourteenth-century report in the Venetian dialect tracing the course of the Black Death. Samantha read little Italian, but grasped the gist.

"Does this say what I think it does? The Plague was engineered?"

"Yes, and the anti-Amina component strongly resembles the infection on your Solomon Island."

Sam felt slightly ill. Lugosi took the book and returned it to the shelf. He put his hand on her shoulder.

"Samantha, are you all right? You're very pale."

"Y-yes." Accepting his support, she took a deep breath "The Black Death was a turning point in European history. But . . . all those people. . ."

"Yes. All those people, all those family lines, snuffed out."

"But why?"

"I have a theory that it relates to the device recovered from that train in Egypt, the twin of that which defiled Tokyo. Come, let me show you something we have been working on. Something a little more cutting edge than these old tomes. Arturo likes to call it 'The Room.'"

He led her deeper into the Library. Moving around a wall emblazoned with the Council insignia, they entered an expanded chamber filled with server racks. Lugosi stepped to a console and typed in a keycode.

"Our field agents have been feeding us data on various locations around the world for this project."

Samantha adjusted her glasses as schematics flashed past on the terminal monitor.

Lugosi continued, "I'm not fully familiar with the technical aspects of the Room. Like you, I am more at home with books than computers."

"Yes. Well, university libraries are far automated than they used to be. But I understand. I'm not a computer expert either."

Just then, Sam's earpiece crackled. "LoneStarBelle, this is Katzushima. . ." Sam listened for a moment, then turned to Lugosi.

"We need to find Minister Castiglione."

"What Kind of D&D Character Would I Be?"

I hope all my readers in the U.S. had a great Thanksgivukkah, and that everyone else enjoyed their Thursday. We had a house full of food, people, and puppies for about four hours, before I settled into a pleasant evening chatting with anyone on the Beyond the Veil crew who had not succumbed to a Tur-coma.

I was listening to a fresh episode of "The Pulse" the other night, and Graydol and Jaysinn brought up an interesting questionaire that supposedly helps answer the question, "What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?" I decided to take the survey and this is what it came up with:

I Am A: Neutral Good Human Wizard (5th Level)

(c) 2004 Niki Harless

Ability Scores:

Intelligence	16	Dexterity	14
Wisdom	13	Strength	13
Charisma	12	Constitution	13

Alignment:
A Neutral Good character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them. Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias for or against order. However, neutral good can be a dangerous alignment when it advances mediocrity by limiting the actions of the truly capable.

Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.

Class:
Wizards are arcane spellcasters who depend on intensive study to create their magic. To wizards, magic is not a talent but a difficult, rewarding art. When they are prepared for battle, wizards can use their spells to devastating effect. When caught by surprise, they are vulnerable. The wizard's strength is her spells, everything else is secondary. She learns new spells as she experiments and grows in experience, and she can also learn them from other wizards. In addition, over time a wizard learns to manipulate her spells so they go farther, work better, or are improved in some other way. A wizard can call a familiar- a small, magical, animal companion that serves her. With a high Intelligence, wizards are capable of casting very high levels of spells.

One funny thing about questionnaires like this is that I can usually tell what answers will get me what sorts of scores. They're not subtle, in other words. The other thing is that I tend to be fairly moderate in my conscious positions, so I end up with I consider to be muddled results:

Detailed Results:

Alignment:
Neutral Good	XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (23)
Lawful Good	XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (19)
Chaotic Good	XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (19)
True Neutral	XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (19)
Lawful Neutral	XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (15)
Chaotic Neutral	XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (15)
Neutral Evil	XXXXXXXXXXXX (12)
Lawful Evil	XXXXXXXX (8)
Chaotic Evil	XXXXXXXX (8)

On the other hand, these scores make perfect sense if each response is weighted, rather than an all or nothing proposition. I am more good than neutral, and more neutral than orderly, chaotic or evil. Scooter might dispute the chaotic part. I'd say the doing-good-without-respecting-authority description may be the defining attribute of my TSW solo character, Samantha Hawthorn, as well as my SWTOR main, "Versteckt." Both characters actively subvert(ed) the aims of their neutral- or lawful-evil organizations.

Law or Chaos:		Good or Evil:
Neutral	XXXXXXXXXX (10)	Good	XXXXXXXXXXXXX (13)
Law	XXXXXX (6)	Neutral	XXXXXXXXX (9)
Chaos	XXXXXX (6)	Evil	XX (2)

This seems more like a different representation of the information given above. Although having not played D&D (Sacrilege! I know), I have only a cursory understanding of what each of these mean in relation to such characters.

Class:		Race:
Wizard	XXXXXXXXXX (10)	Human	XXXXXXXXXXXXXX (14)
Sorcerer	XXXX (4)	Elf	XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Fighter	XX (2)	Halfing	XXXXXXXXXX (10)
Ranger	XX (2)	Half-Elf	XXXXXXXXX (9)
Cleric	(0)	Dwarf	XXXXXX (6)
Barbarian	(-2)	Gnome	XXXXXX (6)
Bard	(-2)	Half-Orc	XXXXXX (6)
Druid	(-4)
Rogue	(-4)
Paladin	(-23)
Monk	(-25)

I wonder what I might have ended up with if I had filled out this questionnaire a decade or two ago. My faith used to be a much bigger part of my life; even now, I tend to lean toward faith-based (Priests/Paladins) classes when they are available in MMOs. The high intelligence/wizard thing is not so surprising either. I totally identified with the intellectual Ravenclaws of Hogwarts.

I also wonder what questions led to the racial scores. For most questions about my physical appearance, I gave "average" answers. For instance, I consider myself reasonably good looking, but I'm no supermodel. I also may also be more physically imposing than I usually perceive myself. That pesky residual self-image at work again, telling me I'm a scrawny nerdling. I was thinking I might have Scooter complete the questionnaire with me in mind, just to see if I fit in different categories from someone else's point view.

I encourage you, Dear Reader, to go take the quiz and see what sort of results you get. Be sure to at least leave the basic "I Am A:" in the comments below, if not a link to your own D&D self-analysis.

LoneStarBelle: The Will

Most people go through life on a sort of auto-pilot. Not that they can't make decisions, they just don't—beyond the trivial. They have no problem deciding what shirt to wear this morning, but then simply fall into love affairs, careers . . . parenthood; perhaps even believing they are happy. They lack the Will to do otherwise. They follow instructions, they do what they're told. These are the sort you find are easily turned. They succumb to the Will of other, more powerful, forces, like sheep for the shearing—or cattle to the slaughter—realizing too late that they've never had the option in the first place.

A rare few have the power to exert their Will—their "Anima"—to withstand the influences of forces beyond the capacity of the rest to comprehend, or even perceive. In a population of billions, they perhaps number in the thousands. These few "Animated" individuals are all that stand between the sheep and the long cold night of oblivion.

"It's like shooting fish in a barrel," Xander Hayes quipped. The blond, blue-eyed Canadian took aim at the barnacle encrusted behemoth over the sea wall where he and Sam and taken cover. Whereas Sam's rifle was a up-converted M4 MWS, Hayes sported an Orochi Occultech rifle. ("I like to call it Hard Rain," he'd said.) On semi-auto, he made short work of the incubators that had begun to advance on their position. Sam focused on the big one. The red and gray creature screamed in pain and anger, recoiling briefly before renewing its advance.

Unlike the zombified former residents of Kingsmouth, the beast they fought now was clearly from the depths. It towered at least four meters, with giant lobster claws and a gaping, saw-toothed maw in its torso. And still it advanced, despite Sam emptying a full clip into it. Almost within striking distance, it reared up.

"Time to go," said Hayes, as he dodged to his right, out of the blast wave. Sam wasn't so quick, and the spray of water knocked her on her back. Chunks of seawall went flying. Sputtering, she looked up as the creature raised its claw to impale her. The small hairs on her arms stood on end as a tendril of brilliant white flashed into view, enveloping the creature and causing it to seize up for an instant. Momentarily forgetting Sam, it turned toward the source of its new pain, Xander. As it lumbered toward him, Sam dragged out her own claws and leapt onto the beast's back.

She failed gain purchase and tumbled off. But the Canadian was driving fireballs into the creature's maw. Sam jumped again–more determined this time—and drove her claws into the creature's back, using them to climb higher. The beast screamed in pain and anger, but Sam made it to the shoulders. With one set of claws embedded for leverage, she stabbed into the creature's head. Over and over, she drove in her claws as the beast flailed its pincers, but unable to reach her. Xander kept up his fiery assault as the creature stumbled and fell.

The impact threw Sam clear of the carcass. As she lay there trying to catch her breath, Xander came and stood over her.

"You all right?" he asked, lending a hand to help her up.

"Yeah, I think so." She looked down at her slacks and jacket, formerly so professorial, now drenched in seawater and gore.

"You ever read Harry Potter?"

She looked at the Canadian askance. "Yes, why?"

"Remember what it said about the Killing Curse, Avada Kedrava? You've got to mean it! I don't think you meant it until you got up on that beast's back.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Hayes peered at Sam intently. "I'm telling you, when you really mean it, you won't even need bullets in that gun." He then flashed her a grin. "Meanwhile, you'd better reload."

Halloweekend Follies

After a yummy breakfast together at Cracker Barrel on Saturday, Scooterz went out "gathering" with her daughter for most of the day, which left me ample opportunity to run around Solomon Island and complete achievements for the Secret World Halloween event (a.k.a. Samhain). On LoneStarBelle, I hooked up with Galactrix, EmDash, and Mith to run a couple instances of the Cat God Nightmare (actually fairly easy), and then tried to complete the NM Filth run in Agartha (not so easy).

After Mith and Em took a break, Galactrix and I did the Spooky Stories missions. Try as I might, I can't think of a really efficient way to do those. Regardless of the order in which you pick them up, you'll be running back and forth across the island—multiple times. Perhaps this is by design, but it's a little out of step with the normal mission flow for TSW, in my opinion. Xander and Antida showed up to do some of the missions and spotted Incognito (a miniboss needed for one of the Samhain 2012 achievements), and we jumped in on that. The rest of my 9ish-hour play session was spent with Galactrix and Gigabyte, trying to get that last Bloody Pumpkinhead from one of the Trick or Treat bags for the final achievement LSB needed, but to no avail.

StartRant:
Over a few posts the past few weeks, I had a discussion with Balkoth about random number generation as a loot delivery system, and am at this point willing to concede that the current raid loot system in World of Warcraft is sufficient for their needs over there; though in the past, it was not nearly so. However, I am still a player in favor of steady, measurable progress in a game that reflects the amount of effort I have put into it. Levels are one way to achieve this. Tokens and other currencies are another. Dice rolls and slot machine mechanics are not. Turning a piece of RNG loot into an "Achievement" that is also part of a "Meta-Achievement" is the worst sort of Skinnerian game "design." And that's exactly what we have here with the Bloody Pumpkinhead—and to a lesser extant, the Incognito Head-O-Lantern. Killing a bunch of NPCs in Blue Mountain does nothing to increase my skill at my current "level" in the game (running Elites and Nightmares). And while there is XP to be had in doing so, it is negligible compared to, say, farming ice creatures or running the Issue 6 and 7 missions.

So there I am, like an addict in a casino, hoping for that rare drop; not even so much for the item, but in order to complete the Achievement—that is not really an achievement. Now, you may be saying, Dear Reader, that the effort I put in to get the bloody pumpkin is the achievement. But I will tell you why it is not, and why I hold the opinions I do regarding RNG loot. Some player, somewhere in TSW, strolled into Blue Mountain after the recent patch that fixed the loot tables to include the bloody pumpkin and got it in the first bag they received. Did they achieve something more than me? Something less? Did their speedy receipt reflect anything about their skill as a player or progress as a character? Would you consider a lottery winner to have achieved anything? No, not any more than the hours I spent and dozens of bags I opened reflect any real achievement. Receiving a randomly generated, low-drop-rate bit of game fluff is not an achievement.

Even when the loot is of practical value, like a weapon or other stat gear, I hate playing for the purpose of acquiring said loot. If it comes to me (or not) during the course of something else I doing that is fun, so be it. Doing something not fun for the purpose of getting loot is a grind. A chore. A job. Not a Game.

How fun is hunting for Trick or Treat bags in Blue Mountain? The second I got the bloody pumpkinhead (as seen above), I stopped actively doing it. Scooterz and I (on Dortmunder and Dex-y) did finish the mission we were on, and did kill more Kitties of Ulthar, and did get more bags. But at the end of our session last night, we passed them all to LoneStarBelle, who also finally got the pumpkin and therefore the meta-achievement. Tonight, we have to track down Incognito, who appears for short intervals in random places throughout Kingsmouth, which means another hour or more of running around, unless we get lucky.

EndRant

In the meantime, we made actual achievements. I did work through all the Samhain 2012 and 2013 achievements on LSB. In a 5ish-hour play session yesterday night, Scooterz and I completed a mission in the Carpathian Fangs, completed the "Jack-in-the-Box" and "People of the Dawn" achievements, and I managed to complete a Deck: the Exorcist. Scooterz has a couple more abilities to go on her Warlock Deck.

I set out to write about the fun I had this weekend with my friends and my beloved. But that would have been a much shorter post. I did have fun. I enjoy chatting and working together with the folks from BtV and my best friend, Scooterz.

LoneStarBelle: The Masquerade

Sam stepped out onto the Grand Staircase of the Palazzo del Consiglio on the arm of John Majors, sheathed in a silk and chiffon column of cobalt blue that accentuated her eyes, and a lightly sequined midnight blue bolero jacket. A sapphire-encrusted pyramid pendant hung around her neck on a platinum chain. Majors, for his part, was outfitted in a tuxedo that matched Sam's jacket, the same pyramid on his lapel and cuff links. He handed the herald their card, who then called out their names:

"The Honorable John Majors and Dr. Samantha Hawthorn!"

Sam laughed inwardly. "'Honorable?'"

Majors looked sidelong at her as they headed down the stairs. "Well, despite your opinion, Hawthorn, I do have a reputation and rank in this organization. Not everything can be solved by pulling a trigger."

"No, but squeezing a couple times usually does the trick in this line of work."

"Not this line of work," he corrected her.
* * *

Thirty-one hours earlier . . .

Majors plunked himself down in one of Kirsten Geary's Barcelona chairs, waiting for her to get off the phone.

"No, no. . . I don't care. Keep those stooges from the CDC from sending more people. . . I don't know. Lose the paperwork, falsify a report or something. . . Yes, that is why I have you down there. Handle it. Ciao ciao."

Ending the call, KG turned to Majors. "Did I say you could sit down, Katzu?"

"Funny, I didn't bother to ask. I don't answer to you anymore, remember?"

Geary folded her arms and sat on the edge of her desk. "Then why are you in my office?"

"We need to get a better handle on the situation in Tokyo. The files we pilfered from the Orochi mainframe included some rather disturbing, if fragmentary information. And the Council scooped up that device from the Cairo train before our agent could get a good look at it."

"You act like I'm not reading the same reports you are. Tell me what you're doing to remedy the situation."

"I'm attending a Council reception tomorrow night in Venice. I want to bring an agent that can infiltrate the Council Archives and find out what they know about this device and how it relates to Tokyo. We also need to see how far into bed they've gotten with the Serpent."

"Looking for an excuse to jettison the agreements?"

"Not necessarily," Majors said. "But the Winged Lion is increasingly toothless, and I think it maybe an abscess that we can root out."

"So you want one of my agents?" she asked.

"Yes, I've already called her in. She's due any minute."

"Look, I don't appreciate you poaching my people, Katzu."

"Trust me, Kiki. This wasn't my preferred choice. If one of my own could do this, I wouldn't be coming to you."

Geary narrowed her eyes, but kept her cool.

"More like end-running me, which is going to cost you," she said through clenched teeth. "Who do I have to reshuffle then?"

With uncanny timing, the distinct sound of boot heels echoed up the ramp from the main floor of the Labyrinth. Geary rolled her eyes as first a Stetson, and then sunglasses and red hair came into view. Samantha Hawthorn looked like a character out of a Louis L'Amour novel, from her hat and boots to the antique Colt Peacemakers holstered at her side. Her blue eyes were masked by nearly opaque aviators, the only sign that she didn't belong on some nineteenth-century trail between Deadwood and Tombstone.

"Ah," said Majors. "Here's our Lone Star Belle now."

Geary glanced from one to the other. "I thought you two weren't on speaking terms."

Samantha glowered at the Company man from behind her shades. "We're not. He blames me for what happened at the Wabanaki casino."

Majors waved dismissively. "Bygones. I have a job to do, and you're the perfect person to help execute my plan."

"Well, I am good at executions," Sam quipped, folding her arms. "But who says I want to work for you?"

Majors stood up. "Look, I don't have time for this. The limo's downstairs. We need to get you over to the Garment District, and traffic will be horrendous at this hour. I'm sure you've got nothing appropriate for this occasion, and our couturier will need time to make you something 'fabulous.' I'll brief you on the way."
* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Sam muttered to Majors, as she looked out over the small crowd of people already gathered in the Salone da Ballo.

"You've never been to a ball before? I thought you Southerners were all about debutantes and cotillions," he said.

"First of all, why does everyone assume that the South is Gone with the Wind? Secondly, I am a military brat. Cotillions weren't exactly a thing in Germany when I was a teenager."

"Texans don't dance?"

"Yes, but I'm more comfortable with the two-step than the minuet."

"No minuets here. You'll do fine. This is just a meet-n-greet like all those faculty mixers I'm sure you've attended."

"None of those mixers involved such high stakes."

His response was cut off by the approach of the Illuminati delegate to the Council. Lyndon Rezník was a debonair—if slightly weasel-faced—gentleman attired similarly to Majors, with slightly more ostentation that distinguished him as a diplomat. Despite his status on the Council, Rezník was not Beestung. His beady eyes raked across Sam before settling on Majors.

"John!" He made a show of shaking Majors' hand. "How good to see you again."

Turning to Sam, he grasped her fingers. "You must introduce me to your lovely companion."

"Of course. Lyndon Rezník, let me present Dr. Samantha Hawthorn, one of our top field agents."

"Enchanté, Doctor," the diplomat said, raising her fingers to his lips. Sam suffered the gesture, though the weasel made her skin crawl slightly.

"I've read the reports of your exploits on Solomon Island and Salamanca."

"Then not all of my 'exploits' have been declassified," she responded, a bit coolly. Majors gave her a warning glance. She put on her best Southern smile, but escaped Rezník's oily grasp.

"Indeed," he said, returning her smile and giving no sign if he'd taken offense. "Allow me to introduce you to the other members of the Council."

The delegate led them to a short reception line. Despite a large bureaucracy, the Council itself was rather small, only about a dozen members, including the Society representatives. But not all were in attendance. Majors gave her a subtle signal when they greeted Sam's mark, Signore Antal Lugosi, a Hungarian-born consigliere and Curator of the Council Archives. The balding, bookish Lugosi had a soft spot for tall redheads. Pouring on her Southern charm, she lingered a bit with him.

"An archivist! I'm actually a historian by education," she touched his arm and leaned in conspiratorially. "I'd love to see your . . . collection." Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing this.

Thoroughly bewitched, Lugosi unconsciously smoothed his comb-over. "Perhaps that can be arranged."

"Oh, good," she smiled again. "I look forward to speaking with you later."

"A Wonderfully Feisty Character"

A new friend on Twitter, the talented TSW player behind Simon "@Grumpynatti" Potter, drew this awesome picture of Dr. Samantha Hawthorn. Hopefully he'll come elucidate his method, since I am not knowledgeable enough to take a guess, other than "computer assisted." Other than the missing Stetson (he was tired of drawing hats) and perhaps a pistol, I think think he captured her very well, considering the relatively brief interchange we had on Twitter before his undertaking.

With a graduate level education and a no-nonsense take-no-shit attitude, LoneStarBelle combines two of my own aspirational qualities. She finds much of the back-room dealing and glitzy parties of Illuminati politics distasteful in the face of the apparent apocalypse. Her proficiency and inclination to use (anima-infused) firearms belie her razor sharp intellect, which often gets her in trouble with her Illuminati handler Kirsten Geary. But KG can't deny the results she gets when Sam is in the field, and the Illuminati are all about results.

Polishing My Oscar

It is, as they say, finished. After doing some research and tweaking my build a bit, and making sure I had the absolute best talismans I could currently get, I went and faced Oscar again. This was only the third day I'd tried, the first two being Monday and Tuesday evenings. I needed to get some AP first, to purchase some Hammer abilities that had been suggested to me by CherryBomb, so I ran "Enter the Filth" and then worked on my story missions and Issue 7 stuff in Shadowy Forest before facing Oscar again.

I discovered that while my purge opportunities (needed for Phase 2) came from Hinder procs, Oscar is immune to Hinder; so I was screwed using that old build. You'll see what I did use below.

As you'll see even further below, Magson suggested I focus on shotgun abilities. However, there are some parts of Oscar's platform outside the shotgun range, so I used Elemental abilities for sustained damage no matter where I was positioned. The deck I used to beat Oscar:

Actives:

• Ignition (Strike) ~ This is the only builder I ended up using;  728 DPS at my current Combat Power.
• Raging Bullet (Strike) ~ 573-1348 damage, depending on range. I had to have my purple shotgun equipped for the Weapon Power, but this ended up being the only Shotgun active in my "victory deck."
• Lightning Manifestation (Stationary Chain "turret") ~ More for the purge of Lightning in Bottle (passive), though the added DPS was nice.
• Speed Freak (Buff) ~ For a boost in Phase 3, when the little red guy chased me around.
• Turn the Tables (Heal) ~ just in case. I think I used it once or twice, not absolutely sure it's necessary.
• Short Fuse (Buff) ~ 25% increase in DPS with Final Fuse, again for Phase 3.
• Thor's Hammer (Strike) ~ 1860-some-odd damage. I only used it when LM was on cooldown during Phase 1; too risky during the other phases.
• Vector-Space ~ I used it a bit, but the aux weapons aren't necessary to beat Oscar, and I have a mod (or something) that provides an occasional heal, which was useless, given the no-heals debuff Oscar threw on me. (Strangely, TtT is unaffected by this debuff.)

Passives:

• Lightning in a Bottle ~ Causes LM to purge buffs; important during Phase 2. This ended up being my guaranteed purge, but I had to time it so that it covered Oscar's three one-shot-you self buffs.
• Elemental Force ~ Guaranteed crit every 8 hits.
• Final Fuse ~ Increases percent damage increase of Short Fuse to 25% for 10 seconds, used during Phase 3.
• Big Bang~ Increases damage of Lightning Manifestation (and other things).
• Grounded ~ Purges cause damage. (Honestly not sure how this stacked with LM/LiaB.)
• Strike Force ~ Increases Penetration chance of Strikes by 7.5%.
• Wrecking Crew ~ Increases crit power of Strikes by 20%.
• Energy Transfer (in this case) ~ Reduces the damage of Vector while increasing the damage of Space.

In my post about fighting Oscar from a few days ago, I requested some advice from my readers, and got a couple responses, like the suggestion from CherryBomb through Twitter. Magson, however, did a thorough workup of a good build and posted it in the comments. . . about 45 minutes after I'd beaten Oscar with the build described above. I wanted to include it here with my gratitude for his research efforts. [My comments look like this.]

Actives:

• Striker - Builder. Same damage as Single Barrel, is a Strike so you don't need a 2nd builder in Ignition, and always takes advantage of Strike Force passive for the 7.5% penetration increase. [I had SB on my deck earlier this week. I don't have Striker, but I could have gotten it. I didn't even see it, but most of my abilities were Elemental anyway, due to the range issue mentioned above.]

• Out for a Kill - Consumer. Raging Bullet does max damage at melee range. OfaK does identical damage to that max but at all ranges. [Despite more consistent damage than Raging Bullet, OfaK is not a Strike, which is what I built many of my passives around. Besides, at my Combat Power, it was only about a 15% difference at max distance.]

• Flame Strike - Strike consumer with same cast time as the GCD and only 2 resources so it can be cast faster and more often than Thor's Hammer and thus have higher sustained dps. [FS would have been great, but I haven't worked on that arc of the wheel at all.]

• Magnetic Wipe - Purge [I was actually working on the points for MW when I decided to give Oscar another go and ended up beating him.]

• Turn the Tables - self heal  [I used that one!]

• Short Fuse - Excellent buff! [I used that one, too!]

• Breaching Shot - Excellent buff #2! [BS would have been good. I use it regularly.]

Passives

• Strike Force - increased pen chance for Strike attacks [I used that one!]

• Iron Maiden - increased pen chance for all attacks, after you pen an afflicted target [I don't have the ability.]

• Bloodsport - applies afflict on any non-glancing hit [Works with Iron Maiden. But glances remove the afflict. Might have worked, but I am honestly not sure how much I was glancing.]

• Incision - pens cause an additional afflict [I don't have the ability.]

• 3rd Degree - every 4th pen causes another afflict [I don't have the ability.]

• Sudden Return - pens do additional damage [I don't have the ability.]

• Gross Anatomy - when afflicts expire another hit is taken by the target. Whenever I've parsed this out with 3 afflicts in the build like this it does as much damage as a finisher - passively. It's awesome! [I don't have the ability.]

Downside to this build is that it needs 2 blade passives which you'd have to build toward, and you don't have a lot of Blood on your chronicle, so it's unlikely that you have 3rd Degree or Gross Anatomy either. So an alternate set of passives might be like this. The 4 substitutions are:

• Mind over Matter - afflicts on critical hit  [I have a low crit rating (7.9% chance) other than the guaranteed 8th hit from Elemental Force.]

• Brawler - +15% crit damage [Low crit rating]

• Elemental Force - every 8th hit is a crit. Make your rotation put this on Out for a Kill as much as possible. [I used that one! (Not OfaK)]

• Cool, Calm, and Collected - 8% boost to all damage for 10s after a crit. EF keeps this up 100% of the time. [Could've worked.]

Magson mentioned some other things from his research, like you should have at least 600 DPS (which I did). Everything else is about positioning (shifting almost constantly) and kiting the little red guy at the end. Magson mentioned practicing against the target dummies in the faction HQs, helpful for checking DPS and rotation. Personally, I despise DPS meters, and based on my research into offensive stats, I knew I was good on that front. My DPS only suffered on Monday and Tuesday when I stopped casting to reposition.

The most important thing is to understand the fight itself and a few key things about each phase. Then practice the dance. Once I became more comfortable with moving around—and developed a plan for avoiding the circles—casting wasn't a problem. But since challenging Oscar and learning the fight comes without cost other than time spent (in other words, no repair bill), I stand by my comment that the only way to "practice" for Oscar is to practice with Oscar.

Other than having a guaranteed purge handy, I have no advice for weapons. OH! Many casts include a self-hinder, like Assault Rifle "aimed" shots. Using these will guarantee that the little red guy in Phase 3 will get you. So make sure you have plenty of instant casts, or at least casts that allow you to run. I didn't use Thor's Hammer at all during Phase 3.