This is the story of Tachy, an unassuming Argentine who, upon joining the Chaos Skirmish this past weekend, unexpectedly became a hero to an entire lobby. The entire story was chronicled by Lysanya in video form and is available for viewing at the below link. I've cued up the video to begin with the entry of Tachy into the lobby at 20 minutes 12 seconds. The first chapter of Tachy's story lasts about fifteen minutes and is worth your time. His adventures continue throughout the evening. I've typed up a dramatic retelling of the first chapter below. I encourage you to watch the video
first and
then read the text below. Pay special attention to the match's text chat to get the full experience.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EF-FK3oXm50&feature=youtu.be&t=20m12sIf you have yet to watch the above video or did not participate on Saturday night,
SPOILERS FOLLOW:
=========================
Every once in a while, a combination of circumstance, fate, and chance producer a
HERO FOR THE AGES... and on Saturday, August 6, 2016 at approximately 9:50 PM EDT... the gods gave us our latest champion,
Tachy...
The gods initially declared
Shas'ui our pilot, but because of connection issues and crashes from the Alliance Open Alpha, he had to abandon us... we thought the gods had forsaken us! Specifically
me! What had I done to earn their ire??? An engineer without a pilot, a lamb without a shepherd, I threw my hands skyward and pleaded for a savior...
...and the gods answered! Pity was taken on a poor wretch like me! They sent me Tachy, who joined from an open slot advertisement in global chat which provided him the lobby password... and
my, my friends,
how prophetic that password would prove to be...
The best kind of hero is a reluctant hero, one insecure in his station but who will take up the cause when there is no other choice. Tachy initially spurned the position of captain, hopping into spectate and pleading "no pls noo" when I requested he return and take the helm. "I am really bad in cap" our humble warrior declared. But I did not believe him. Despite his low rank, something was
special about this player... I could see it in the five gleaming letters of his name. The characters spoke to me through a means unexplainable. I believed in him.
We believed in him. And we let him know it.
Watch as the match chat erupts in support for Tachy to take the helm and the voice icons light up the screen like guiding beacons in the night. Chants of "Tachy! Tachy!" echoed throughout the lobby and from other player's computers, their microphones placed too closely to their speakers and overpowered by the salutations. Succumbing to peer pressure, Tachy assumed his role as the chosen one and humbly christened his ship
Shame. But never had a ship been so inaptly named...
The match begins. Tachy has chosen a staple of the game: the Pyramidion with a gatling and a mortar. The
Shame charges forth, me on the main deck, and is instantly cut down by enemy fire. An omen!? I refuse to believe it... We respawn and the fight continues.
Allies crumble under the weight of the enemy. The
Shame explodes and spreads wreckage all over the red canyon's depths, much like blood on the floor of a slaughterhouse.
This is all my fault! I internally scream.
I have failed Tachy!But Tachy would not
let me fail him. We respawned again. Our allies had secured one kill and another. We had initally been losing heartily but now the scoreboard read a respectable 5-2 in the enemy's favor. We needed nine points to achieve victory and the enemy obviously had an advantage at the moment... but there was still the possibility, however statistically remote...
Sweat poured from my brow. My muscles ached. Repairing the main deck of a Pyramidion was suddenly like coitus. I had to focus. I had to be strong.
For Tachy.
Two allies were with us. Another, the
Steaming Probe, was successfully engaging in a one-on-one engagement in another sector, eventually dominating and destroying his foe and heavily damaging another. With throttle at full, Tachy and his stalwart allies raced across the skies to pounce on the
Perpetrator, stripping his armor, exploding mortars against the hull, and... yes!
YES! Tachy got the kill!
But our savior was not of peaceful mind. Enraged at the stones and whips he had suffered, he tore his ship hard to the left and laid decimating fire upon the limping Galleon. The
Tanksank withered under fire and Tachy added another notch to his belt. The game was tied!
I'm just warming up, he certainly thought to himself, but his stoic personality and foreign tongue would not allow him to gloat.
Our team wrested another point from the enemy and the two teams were now tied. The battle was now in its most intense moments. Each fleet moved toward the other. Engineers and gunners opened fire, mallets and spanners crashed against the armor, and each team simultaneously secured another kill as the
Perpetrator finished off the
Vegeta and the
Steaming Probe terminated the
Tanksank. We held a 7-6 lead, but our grasp was tenuous. So slippery was victory that a lone ally overextended himself in the battle and quickly succumbed to the enemy's weapons in a hopeless three-on-one bout. The game was now tied again. The back and forth was like a riding a seesaw on the ocean's waves.
The enemy had now made a critical error. In an attempt to neutralize our long-range Spire, the Goldfish
Surprise moved in, sustained heavy fire, and our captain made his move. Looping around the enemy vessel in a nimble reverse-J maneuver, the
Surprise was cut off from his friends and destroyed; a kill that was clearly stolen from Tachy by the
Probe... but all in the name of victory.
One point. One point separated us from victory. There was no reason to celebrate
yet. The battlefield, fittingly, was quite chaotic at the moment. Ships were cut off from their fleets, heading in all directions in a desperate attempt to either stave off defeat or end the match. A ship named in honor of Tachy moved in on the
Tanksank with the
Shame following his friend closely behind. One kill. All we needed is one kill to end this grisly battle.
Gatlings and mortars from the
Shame and her ally whittled away at the hull of the
Tanksank. Outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and outgunned, she couldn't hold. No one will ever know which pilot from which ship landed the critical shot that tore the Galleon's hull apart and sprinkled its embers across the sky, but we all know
why we had prevailed...
Tachy.
It was a fairy tale ending. We loaded back into the lobby and Tachy's screen was flooded with applause notifications from his allies and opponents alike. Our sheepish savior could only manage to utter a meek "thanks guys
" as we gushed our praise. It would be criminal were this man not chosen as Player of the Week. This is a story we will tell our grandchildren.
"But what was the password!?" you ask, dear reader? Oh. I'd forgotten to include that detail. My mind seems to be going at my old age. Well, I'm certain it will prove no surprise to you after it's known. It all seems like the gods had a plan for us the whole time. The password? Ah, yes, no more delays, no more delays. The password. The password was...
legend
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