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The Bloodthirst of the Berserker
This week's Spotlight tells a tale of incredible odds. Is this possible, or is it hyperbole? You be the judge...

"It's getting late," Ksaz said after a long conversation. "Besides, I doubt the Council will grow much stronger unless we can find the funds, and soon, to pay for alterations to our fortress."

With a serious look, I nodded agreement as my friend mounted his warhorse. "Well, have a good night," I finally said as the seriousness changed to a smile. "I don't think there's much more to be said about this -- we will just have to watch and wait and hope for a miracle."

Ksaz eased the anxiousness of his mount with an apple, "Whoa boy."

As I walked back into my home I heard the words "Kal Ort Por" behind me. I turned to look and my friend was gone.
The day had been long and hard. With every passing moment, the continuous exodus from the Council was nonstop. Those of us that chose to stay steadfast and persevere paid for our decisions in our own blood. It was never a surprise to be outnumbered 3-to-1. Never was it unexpected to be outnumbered 2-to-1. Yet such fleeting numbers stretched even further apart as time went on. Surviving such odds made many of us champions in battle. Oh the rush that is to be experienced when you are battling 10 verses 1 and manage to smite thy enemy, let alone several.

I understood well the nature of the anxiousness I saw in the warhorse's actions and eyes. It was nothing less than bloodthirst, something I've been known to experience on many occasions. The mount rekindled in me the Berserker. In that instant, I decided to risk all that night, and ventured out alone to face one of my two primary enemies: the True Britannians. As I wished to not chance my warhorse's life on account of my own misguided decision, I placed him within the care of the stablemaster of Serpent's Hold. I placed necessary equipment among my reagents, purchased a suitable dark brown mount, and set off for Castle Britannia.

Upon arrival, I strolled up to the front gates and was set upon by a mage and a spearman. I led them far enough away from the castle, so that I would not face immediate reinforcements, and was rather surprised when the mage died in five spells. The spearman put up a more valiant fight, but he too eventually perished. The mage was very foolhardy, constantly visiting the Britain Healer and returning in an attempt to regain his equipment. Unfortunately, I was forced to smite him several times in this manner, as his equipment was well hidden within his belongings, and it was taking awhile to locate my spoils. On one such occasion, he returned with a mace fighter wielding a war hammer. I made sure to execute the mage yet again before hunting the macer. Without a doubt, the macer fell soon enough.

Utilizing the powers of Teleportation, I ascended to the catwalk overlooking the drawbridge of Castle Britannia. Seeing that their portcullis was raised, I weaved the incantation "Ort Por Ylem" and caused it to lower itself. I then teleported to the ramparts of the Castle proper, and immediately I noticed that I had trapped five or six True Britannians inside by my actions. One donned a bow and began to shoot at me. Using my knowledge of wrestling, I dodged aside and smacked an arrow away as I began to weave "In Nox Grav". I then lay the spell upon their inner sanctum and cackled insanely as several began to spasm from the noxious fumes.

I stood upon the ramparts with my hands rested against the cold stone, spying my work. Two warriors down below stood next to each other, likely one attempting to cure the poisons of the other. The warrior clutching the spear shook it over his head and shouted defiantly at me, "Is that all you've got!" I smiled and my eyes glowed sharply as I stepped back from the edge. The warriors assumed I had stepped away, so they could not hear my incantations. They then walked up next to the wall below me, attempting to avoid my spell casting. I smiled yet another toothy smile as I realized their mistake and waited for several moments to allow suspense and fear to fully grip them before I began weaving "Flam Kal Des Ylem". A storm of meteors suddenly rained down upon them. While confusion still had its hold, I immediately evoked the spell again. The second rain erupted just as they were attempting to flee. The meteors chased their victims until all were dead.

I cupped my hand behind my ear and listened close. I suddenly realized that the sound I heard was the portcullis creaking to life. With a back flip, I teleported across to the catwalk and spied a True Britannian at the portcullis, attempting to assist his friends. I stood on the edge and began casting spell after spell. It was quite unfortunate for the enemy that my spells were executed far faster than the rusty gate could rise. Needless to say he, too, died. Within moments of his death a tamer and a mage entered the Castle to rout me. For many minutes we ran around the ramparts of Castle Britannia, until eventually the mage succumbed. I paralyzed the tamer's pets to buy me some time, and then fled to regain my mana supply.

Soon I heard a great rustling from all around. The sounds of shouting and the hooves of countless horses pounding stone came from all directions. Suddenly, True Britannians were pouring upon my position. Their numbers were so great as to take up the entirety of the path, blocking my escape. From the opposite direction, the tamer overcame me -- her pets now free and ready to smite the one who made them immobile. Yet in my Berserker's rage I was oblivious to such. Among the group of riders, I spied Avocet, Commanding Lord of the True Britannians. With yet another cackle, I began casting upon him, nearly killing him in 4 spells. His flight was instantaneous, and his fellow riders parted ways to allow him a path upon which to flee. I gave chase with a spell prepared; the spell destined to kill the Commanding Lord of my enemy, who was now inadvertently creating me an escape route.

Unfortunately, a member of his army had been casting a spell at the same time as I had. His was "In Vas Mani" -- Greater Heal. As Avocet stopped to attempt to heal himself, and I attempted to end his life, he was healed by his fellows. Momentarily disappointed, I kicked my brown horse into full speed and sped around to the front, teleporting across to the catwalk and then to the ground. I fled to a safer place in which to regain my mana.

In the time that followed, I entered into several battles -- many of them surprisingly one-on-one. These battles culminated in a battle between Randwulf and myself. Never was I to know he was telepathically linked to several members of the True Britannian army. For during our battle, I was set upon once again by the riders - this time all wielding Paralyze spells. Thusly, did my Berserker's rage come to an end. However, my bloodthirst was most definitely satisfied this night.

-Vrin Drakus the Mythical Grand Master
We are pleased to present these tales of your battles and memorable moments in Ultima Online. Join us next week, as we continue to spotlight your tales of adventure and excitement within the world of Britannia. 

Published: August 2001
Please Note: Some dates are estimates as exact dates were unavailable.
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