Chicken Wars: A New Hen

October 4, 2008

Fore score and seven clucks ago, our forefeathers brought forth on this gamescape a new MMO, conceived in war, and dedicated to the proposition that all men will be turned into a chicken if you go into a lower-tier RvR lake.

I’m sure as shootin’ that you all are dying to know how last night’s Chicken Wars went down on Phoenix Throne’s EvC’s T1 zone.  I logged on in the middle of it, immediately hearing the catastrophic sounds of death and poultry over vent:


Our fearless and aimless guildies joined a myriad of other folks down in Nordland, and charged into the fray with nary a thought of survival.  I mean, how could we, since we got transformed into something that has one hit point, only an auto-attack, and an uncanny ability to dash across the surface of water?  “It’s suicide, men!” someone called out, and we all rushed in.

We were met by the enemy at several points, both armies consisting of 90% chickens and 10% T1 players who wanted to grow up and work at a chicken slaughterhouse.  It was a hoot — a frustrating hoot — to run around more naked than a minute-old newborn, skidding in panic as the enemy tried to close the gap, and frantically hitting the autoattack key if an enemy chicken was in sight.  I got at least two chickens in my time, at an exchange rate of one enemy chicken killed to sixteen of my own deaths, but my friend Moxie (aka Riley McGee) killed enough chickens as a chicken to get this coveted title:

Sickening, isn’t it?

There was a general sense of annoyance that we couldn’t just have to epic armies of chickens without the OBVIOUSLY overpowered rank 6 Magus/Black Orcs out there.  As we fought and ran and mostly died, people on vent offered up suggestions to make this experience even more randomly hilarious:

“Chickens with rocket launchers!”

“We should be assigned a random animal or object when we come into this zone, like a manatee or pumpkin or goat, then have stats based on that!”

“I wanna see chickens parachuting from the sky like on D-Day!”  “Chickens did WHAT on D-Day?”  “You know what I mean!”

Upon one respawning, I retained some of my skills even as a chicken, although they were all borked.  I did have a blast — literally — firing my blunderbuss out of my butt.  I think there’s a metaphor for this blog in that: it’s like something shot out of a chicken’s tuckus.

Finally, I became a pirate chicken — Captain Syp, they called me — and boarded an Empire vessel to prepare for a worldwide-tour of pillaging and mayhem.  Unfortunately, Mythic’s devs did not see fit to give their chickens opposable thumbs or the proper height, and I ended up staring wistfully at the wheel.



  1. YOU ARE A RK FAN!! I knew it all along

  2. That is just inspired. Makes me want to do that now XD

  3. We need to do that again. Feathers flying, chickens dying. Much fun for all.

  4. In WoW (don’t hurt me…) my guild used to own the shipping lines by getting on the zoning boats on the alliance side, hiding down below, and then when the ship had zoned we ran up and slaughtered everyone on board. We would do this for over an hour until word got out and we would then have epic battles on the boat.

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