Guild Wars: In Praise of the Run

There is nothing like a good long run. The kind where you only lose because someone drops or has to quit when you start to work like a well oiled machine. The unspoken communication that comes from knowing the habits of your teammates. Anticipating the way they're going to move and respond.

This Sin I've been playing with for about fifteen matches now are absolutely on the same page. Our team's evolved into a 3/2 split with a Monk/Rit/War team on the other end while the Sin and I handle the other side. We are just so in sync, it's scary. We know which shrines to head to, which character to target, even when to cut and run. And believe me, a Sin and a Ranger can cut and run in the Costume Arena. Very lethal combination, too, since he can spike things down and I can interrupt anything giving us problems.

Thing is, the guy has a Chinese name. And we haven't said anything to each other more deep than a "gg". Chances are we wouldn't be able to talk even if we were together on vent. Too different, too far apart, to reach that next level of communication. But, by now, we don't need to be because he knows.

He knows I'm going to nail that Steam slinging Ele before they can blink - taking out SF or Steam or both - so he can concentrate on some other target. He knows if someone tries to bamf at him, I'm going to pick off part of their chain. Knows that if there's a Warrior chasing him it's going to get Crippled in a hurry. And I know that he's going to nail that Melly Derv trying to carve me up with the shocker, with the Ox Horns, letting me kite away (Not that I really need it, there's this little thing called Natural Stride. Dervs are tough to take out but I can kite them around and peck them to death with ease. But, you know, it's the thought that counts.). That he thinks Rits are higher priority targets than Monks (And I tend to agree with him) which means if there's two around that I'm going to be putting a D-Shot helmet on the Monk while he kills off the Rit. I like to bug out when things look grim, even if that means healing right through the enemy's forces. And I know he's going to be right behind me.

And we both know that while we're doing our thing that the other half of our team is somewhere else, holding down their end of things. And when things inevitably get chaotic as we're shifting and flowing across the map, we'll join up and split off. Forming our mini-squads based on what's going to best counter the enemy's makeup. Generally that means shifting one of the healers over. But sometimes that means it's me and the two frontliners charging ahead while the more defensive casters hold the fort somewhere.

I've completely jinxed us now by writing this, of course. And, indeed, a bit after I jotted this down, we started to splinter apart with players leaving. Their replacements were serviceable but, lacking the familiarity born of multiple wins, just not the same. It wasn't long before we lost and whatever it was we'd built through those few matches was scattered to the wind.