"Meanwhile, Fungee executes the one and only strat he's rumoured to have mastered. The cannon wallin. Although he botches the attempt slightly, Mother Teresa might give him a C+ for effort."
-|]agomar
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| A 3 Player FFA in the Lake of Fire | | | Author: | | | IP: | static-5XXXX | | Date: | 09/24/00 10:09 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 3, Max: 9, Min: 8
Lifetime Rating for |]agomar: 8.6667 |   |
Well, hello and welcome to the newest |]agomar battlereport.
This report is, well, somewhat unique. I grabbed one of my old styles, threw in a new style and dumped my current technique all into the same bubbling cauldron to get what some might find to be an unsavoury mix. Sucks to be you.
My next couple br's will all be this way: I'm going to try to get the feeling of the map. In this case, magma , ash and fire. Wish me luck.
Pregame
Well, originally I had wanted a game on Entangled, one of my all-time favourite maps. Searching through the myriad channels of battle.net, I eventually met up with Praetor-Galen, the victor of my last FFA battlereport, in . . . where else, good old Nohunters. After a while, both the venerable Terran Commander Sinder~Roze and EliteNotSoElite proclaimed they wanted to be reported, so a game was quickly started and we were ready to roll.
Praetor, being the gosu Protoss player he is, quickly set about owning the game. Before you could say "drat, I wanted a good br," he had sent Sinder's Terrans fleeing to an island base and was well on his way to crushing the Zerg. Minutes later, victory was his.
I wasn't sure whether I would report this one; it seems I only br good games these days. Luckily, both losers were lusting for revenge and the mighty Praetor had plenty of time on his hands, so we started up again, this time among the fumes of the famed Lake of Fire. Guess who'll be the target??
Early Game . . .
 Quickly, Praetor's honourable Protoss tribe had warped in a fledgling base at 4:00, while Sinder landed his Command Center on the smouldering ashes of the 12:00 position and EliteNotSoElite phased in a rebel Protoss outpost at 8:00.
All players prepared for battle with fairly conservative, defensive starts, the Protoss both going mass infantry, with Praetor teching a little faster to goons by sacrificing troop count. The sole Terran seemed to be turtling, constructing a very compact base and quickly erecting a towering factory, which he set to work building a machine shop. A flurry of kamikaze scouts now rambled out of each base, the Probes offering a valiant beep and the SCV a noble nosepick. Sinder's peon met up with his teal counterpart, and the two continued on their merry way to Elite's bustling outpost, side by side. Unfortunately the rebel Toss Executor, appaled by this bold invasion, promptly reduced both of the puny peons to dust and laughed as they joined the ashes of the land.
After this, not much happened in the way of war for a good long while. The Terran Commander, intent on obtaining the economic advantage, was by far the first to expand, moving to his natural with 3 SCVs and a compliment of m&m. The resources he pumped into this operation cost him dearly in troop count, but he attempted to make up for this by pumping vultures, laying mines and sieging tanks at his main. Although those mines were not immediately effective in a containing sense ( Praetor had already teched to his beloved observers ), they did provide some useful info about the size of teal opponant's army: namely that it could easily crush the pathetic Terran military. Ouch.
Mid Game . . .
Right now, Elite asks me whether he should attack. Naturally my answer is indecisive, but, taking a look, I see that his forces could crush either one of his foes with ease, both of whom have now sacrificed troop counts for expansions. So it is that I smile when, rather than attack, he instead expands to his 7:00 natural, phasing in a nexus, pylon and a triple cannon web all with a single industrious probe. After the massive nexus has materialized he maynards in a few probes, building another 6 or so on site and finally sending in the bulk of his infantry.
Either the rebel Toss has a great intuition or a gosu map hack, for Praetor's minions, who had previously been amassing at their newly made 6:00 expansion, are on the move. Just as the last purple troops cross into their bustling natural, the first teal dragoons open fire, hungry for blood!
The battle is close and exceptionately violent, as both sides have a roughly equal number of troops on site. A hail of blue-white plasma balls slams in upon their targets, and the three chobo cannons go down in seconds, followed by about 8 'goons on both sides. Zealots clash furiously near the center of the chaotic battlefield, but Elite's quickly gain the upper hand due to vastly superior numbers and plough ahead. Praetor, realizing that anything could turn the tide now, desperately micros his dozen or so survivors into a wide semi circle and meets limited success. But in a flurry of blue explosions and a storm of plasma bolts he is forced to retreat, having finally been driven away by Elite's superior numbers.
Yet the stubborn Praetor is far from beaten. He brushes away his first loss and, rather than be discouraged, schemes a bold new plan to catch the stalwart purple defenders off guard. No doubt chuckling to himself, he loads little groups of 'goons into sleek yellow shuttles, bringing them to the unwatched bottom of the rebel expansion! Pair by pair, the sneak attack force grows in number, as another dozen of their bretheren amass at the dark choke just in front of the enemy natural. When there are six goons below Elite's natural, something goes terribly wrong.
 One of the Protoss warriors decides that all this stealth attack stuff is rubbish and that running in, kamikaze-style would be far more honourable. The others all agree and within seconds the entire squad of dragoons runs straight into the waiting purple forces, suffering tremendous losses and just managing to get to the peon line before casualties become too high. Unfortunately, only five peons die before the sneak attack force is no more.
His confidence renewed by two glorious back-to-back victories, Elite summons his veteren dragoons and orders them to attack. Quickly enough, they chase away tha patrolling teal minions, only to be turned on seconds later by those same 'goons, now out in the open of the 12:00 plain. Both sides hunker down for a long, bitter conflict, since, although purple has more troops, Praetor has wisely taken the liberty of upgrading his weapons systems. Plasma balls fly fast and furious, slamming into their targets, and for a very long time it seems like stalemate. Then, suddenly, the noble teal dragoons come out on top, blowing away their enemies and sending them fleeing back to their choke defenses. Only 5 or 6 teal 'goons survive, of the 12 that took part, and Elite only manages to escape with three badly damaged dragoons of the maybe 18 he fought with!
A series of cat and mouse maneouvers now follow, with both sides occasionally bringing forth a single 'goon to lure larger numbers of enemy units into their waiting defenses. These gambits are unsuccessful, however, and both sides retire to their "borders" to amass troops for the next assault.
Yet Sinder hasn't been quiet all this time, and is more than content to watch as his two opponents weaken each other! After a while, however, perhaps acting on a hint dropped by me, he realizes that the entire map is lined by cliffs - the perfect setting for a good ol' turbo newbie. At this point he has three working bases ( including his main ), 2 factories, double rax and a starport all pumping out his preferred combo of tanks, goliaths, Science Vessels and droppers. Smiling, he rolls some tanks, two towering goliaths and a couple SCVs into double droppers, ordering them far south to the hated Praetor. A small squad of vigilant 'goons peppers the dropships with plasma fire at the main Protoss base, and they are just barely able to escape.
 Still shaken by his ordeal, Sinder nevertheless commands his ships to continue on their course, and it isn't long before they reach Praetor's newest expansion, just below his main at 5:00. The tanks unload, the SCVs build their turrets and the goliaths walk about aimlessly. The stalwart Executor, however, has not been blind to this bold new threat, and his dragoons are already pouring into the natural expansion, firing at the goliaths who just barely manage to escape before they detonate. Yet now the tanks siege, killing a few squirming 'goons almost instantly, the rest of which are wisely withdrawn back to the 6:00 base. After wreaking absolute havoc upon the oupost the unspaced tanks are finally smashed by a quick zealot drop, courtesy of a battered Toss shuttle.
OK, it's time for an update. Allow me to haul out the minimap:
Everybody seems to have roughly equal resource intake at this point, with Elite having just expanded to the 10:00 site above his main, with Sinder having a nice, tight little triangle of long-established bases to the north and Praetor mining heavily from newish bases at 6:00 and 5:00. Praetor, however, is at a disadvantage, since his 5:00 expo has been put out of commission for quite a while thanks to the Terran turbo newbie, and since he was the latest to expand both times. Both Protoss have stuck to dragoons very consistantly, but are now seeking a tactical advantage over one another by teching to templar, Praetor being a little ahead of the game in that respect, as he has been technologically throughout the war. Sinder has been augmenting his beloved tank/goliath combo with Sci Vessels lately, and has been casting longing glances towards the more central expansions of the dark, firey map. He's comissioning droppers to ferry his units from place to place more effectively, and is using comscans almost as effectively as the Protoss are using observers ( again, especially teal ).
An uneasy silence seems to drift surrealistically over the burning lake of fire. The ashes of deceased warriors waft gently over the raging inferno. The opposing commanders eye each other with a mix of fear and suspicion, as they feverishly prepare their troops for the upcoming onslaught. Who will strike first?
Death comes quickly - and gives no warning . . .
With what must have been a dark, sinister smile, Sinder loads a mass of tanks and goliaths into a couple waiting dropships, and flies the lot over to the choke of Praetor's main, probably for another devastating turbo newbie. However, the map plays a bit of an illusionary trick here, making it seem that there's a cliff and plateau while actually, there's just a regular, flat plain of darkened ash. Unfortunately the Terran commander doesn't see this, and so unloads the entire force onto flat ground! The SCVs begin making turrets, the tanks siege, and Sinder's smile undoubtedly grows wider . . . until a full group of goons attack from both sides and crush all opposition, starting with the tanks. Um . . . ouch. But wait, something else was amiss here. Why did the goliaths take so long to die, and why did they manage to kill 2 'goons before they did? A quick look at the unit statistics of a wandering vulture tells me quickly enough. The Terran forces are at 3/3.
Brushing his earlier stupidity aside, Sinder quickly expands again to a central resource node, giving him a good economic advantage. Now, as his forces reach critical mass, he sends them south, along a trail of undetonated spider mines his vultures had earlier planted. About ten tanks, supported by an equal number of goliaths and a few SCVs make their way down, meeting scattered resistance from a couple goons and finally sieging, perfectly unspaced, at the dark chokepoint leading into the glittering Protoss Main. When the first volley of acrilite fire blows away an entire network of pylons, Praetor knows he's in serious trouble. Desperately he orders a group of spidery dragoons miling about at that battle-marked 6:00 expansion all the way across the map, straight into the withering tank push. However, it is to no avail, as the upgraded Terran leviathans brush aside all opposition and continue the demolition of Praetor's main!
As Praetor-galen struggles to survive, Elite catches on to the vicious battles to the east and decides to launch a probing attack at his enemy Toss' 6:00 expansion. A DT, invisible to his opponents sneaks out of the purple expansion, followed by a small collection of various infantry. Upon finding a lone Nexus and a small contingent of helpless probes they charge into action, immediately crushing the peons and pounding the monolithic structure to rubble.
Suddenly, however, a sizzling psionic storm erupts over the hapless orange tanks, almost finished their demolition job, and immediately three of the titanic machines detonate in brilliant yellow eruptions. However, the last surviving Protoss structure in what was once Praetor's main is blown to rubble soon after, and the Push continues relentlessly on its way.
Eventually, of course, the fate of the noble teal Tribe is inevitable. Moments later, the thunder of Shock Cannons echoes through the dark 5:00 valley, and, despite a valiant high templar's best attempts to storm the offensive to dust, it is all to no avail. As the Goliaths stomp in to finish off the nexus, and the majority of the base is destroyed in a hail of bullets, missiles and shells, Praetor finally concedes and is allowed to become that most noble breed of Starcraft players . . . an observer.
And then there were two . . .
Um, ya, so only two are left. It's funny, both remaining opponents had been so intent on crushing poor Praetor ( no color now that he's a gosu obs ) that they totally ignored each other. That would soon change.
Elite takes the initiative, gathering his mighty dragoon army, making more from his five gateways and sending the entire mass of deadly Protoss warriors up through his main and straight into the nearly mined out 11:00 Terran expansion. They are greeted by the awesome firepower of . . . two tanks. Not good.
Luckily Sinder reacts quickly, and sieges those tanks in widely seperated, hard to reach areas. But, of course, some two groups of dragoons have nothing to fear from this last-ditch defense and the machines are easily blown away in a flury of plasma bolts. Now three hidden mines detonate, quickly reducing two goons to blue splatters on the black ground. Yet just as all appears lost a massive relief drop of tanks and goliaths is unloaded just out of sight from the dragoons, and soon all offenders are forced to turn tail and run.
Sinder now rethinks his strategy somewhat. He realizes that tanks aren't exactly the most mobile units in existence, and mobility will be important to defeating an opponent with so many bases. What's more, in order for tanks to be as effective as they should be, good support is critical. The choice is obvious. Battlecruisers it is.
Building another monolithic Stargate, he prepares to construct capitol ships from one, and support craft from the other. Now he rallies his enormous army to the North West, getting ready for an all-out assault down through the map and straight into the Toss lair. I can't help admiring his forces: over a group of tanks, and equal number of goliaths, a great many droppers and SV support. The first titanic cruiser roars out of its docks and lumbers over to join the rallying Terran forces, just as Elite decides to make this a war of attrition, and gathers his hoards ( as in about 3 groups, owee ) of dragoons, ordering them East, then North, making a round trip of the map to catch his foe offguard. There is a brief moment of silence. Elite's dragoons race up around the map as fast as their robotic legs can take them, confident of utterly surprising a beleaguered and weary foe, and excited at the thought of smashing through the pathetic rear defences, claiming total victory. The 'goons skitter past the smoldering remain's of Praetor's cowering base, on route to an enemy now not far ahead, and the tension builds to almost unbearable levels, festering in the burning landscape like an atomic bomb slowly reaching critical mass. Sinder
Indeed, a true war of attrition has erupted over this tortured world, and the outcome is far from certain . . . .
Sinder is forewarned of the Protoss tsunami, however, by a couple scattered mines ( which are easily crushed ), but, rather than send his forces to engage the attacking goons, he orders them South and launches a devastating volley of acrilite fire down upon the first cowering Protoss expansion he meets. Things are far from certain, for at the exact same time Toss warriors smash apocalyptically into the leading Terran settlement from the dark depths of the fog of war, blowing away the fringe buildings and pressing grimly on. Two battlecruisers soar into battle many miles west, terrifying their enemies and, with the gargantuan Terran enemy laying down a vast barrage of fire and raw energy, sacking the entire Protoss base in the area. However, the human minions are not unscathed: several psi storms rip into the the orange armies, slicing into the tanks and destroying a number of them. The Templar, however, as is far too common for their brave sect in these troubled days, give their lives for Shakuras, and the Terran troops regroup, the cruisers swinging back to however over the tanks, which unsiege, while goliaths, vultures and science vessels make their way to the heavily mined black valley. As the humans press on, the muffled screams of their brethren, and the dim thunder of battle, can just barely be heard in the distance. Ignoring their most basic of instincts, the Terrans do not return to help.
By now the goons, with only minimal losses, have handily smashed through Sinder's main base, meeting resistance only from the brave crew of a fully upgraded cruiser, along with a feeble line of siege tanks, easily crushed. Still over two groups of Dragoons remain, which ready themselves for renewed combat and stream further to the West. Now, suddenly, there looms the chance of a direct engagement between the two doom forces. If Elite can exterminate the next Terran colony as easily as he did the last, as seems rather likely, he may be able to catch up with the weakened Terran forces, and, with the help of his remaining defenses, render them to dust. The humans, with their tech structure in ruins, would be powerless before the glowering Protoss. It would be but a matter of time.
And so, with victory in his hands, Elite makes perhaps his biggest flaw, while Sinder performs his mightiest act of sheer, death-defying genius. The Dragoons slam into what is now the largest surviving human base, and attacking the upper corner of his base, where the SCVs are busily mining. Sinder has quickly canceled production in his nearby factories, so that they are not the obvious first target. The Protoss Executor, apparantly believing that his foe has not the resources to build combat units, goes directly after the peon line and supply depots his enemy would need to even have a hope of fighting back. Yet as the dragoons fight their way out of range, Sinder quickly re-energizes his giant factories, but also, in a brilliant tactical move, begins to surround them with supply depots, using his last functional peons still on the mainland! Quickly, tanks begin to pour out of the construction yards, as the Executor, by now overconfident, continues to raze the rest of the base. Reinforcements are ferried in by a flight of battered dropships, and now a truly formidable force of tanks, though still heavily outnumbered, have arrived to duel with the Toss warriors. No doubt with a sigh, and a quick prayer to a higher power, Sinder makes that fatal move, the defining moment of the game - he sieges his tanks.
What will happen now? Will the Protoss sweep away their puny opposition, or will the Terran Commander, displaying the prowess with which he managed to get his current job, find the power to fight back, to resist the final destruction of his mainland settlement?
The Finale
Things move quickly in the heat of war. A tremendous roar echoes over the already blackened, blistered landscape, and the first goon suddenly falls in a pool of blue goo. The battle is joined as the dragoons race into battle . . . only to find they can't hit the tanks due to the ring of supply depots!! With no templar in sight, the dragoons are forced to hit continually repaired depots as the upgraded tanks deliver devastating volleys of fire. Finally they break through . . . but half of their number is no more! The resulting fight is mighty, yet brief, and exceptionally violent. The goons still outnumber their foes, yet are caught miling about the opening, with no room to maneouver properly. The Toss line cracks, and crumbles in the withering barrage, but a number of tank pilots lose their lives. In the end, when all is said in done, the once-terrifying Protoss dragoon force lies in total ruin, the Terran base is devastated, the tank force is nearly no more . . . and the war is virtually over.
For while all this is going on ( talk about micro ), four mighty battlecruisers roar over the Protoss main, with an unending stream of Terran heavy weaponry following close behind. All hell brakes lose over the already hellish lanscape. Psionic Storms sizzle. Lasers tear apart all opposition. Tanks siege. Shells plummet down from above. Missiles scream into the sky. Shuttles crash in blazes of glory. But, in the end, Elite's fate is sealed. The final end is nigh for the stubborn Protoss commander.
While Sinder had the foresight to expand to an island, out of sight and danger, the Protoss Executor was too focused on his ground forces - and therefore his last, desperate settlement is now utterly exposed to the bruised, battered remnants of the Terran force. Cruisers with defensive matrix roll into position, Yamatos are losed, pylons crumble before the renewed offensive, and the mighty human minions plow through the final Protoss base like a hot knife through butter, wiping away the last, frantic opposition like a car wiper swatting away a Bobish Newt. Although Elite tries to stave off defeat by building pylons in random places, attempting to buy himself a few more minutes of freedom, the tanks, goliaths and cruisers finally swoop down upon the last Protoss, and with a final, sizzling burst of energy, the warriors of Aiur are no more.
Or, at least, that was the official Terran statement. For many a warrior that day, just before the Last Explosion, saw a sleek Protoss shuttle, damaged inspite of its shields, struggling into the sky and vanishing into the glare of the sun. Indeed, it would not be long before Elite would return . . . stronger than ever.
Here are the scores . . .
Erm, sorry that this is a *little* late ( coughs ) . . . as I explained I was sick and/or busy . . . and of course, I didn't feel like it ( ahem ). The next br will probably be about a 2v2 in Starcraft . . . or maybe about Strifeshadow . . .
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