"Lewis gives oral sex to all raters. I'm under his influence as well"
-ChinksWithGuns
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The Ice Trilogy - Part 2:
A Battle Over Thin Ice | | | Author: | | | IP: | gateway.XXXX | | Date: | 10/24/00 11:10 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 3, Max: 9, Min: 8
Lifetime Rating for |]agomar: 8.6667 |   | 
Welcome again!
Well, this is the middle Part in the Ice Trilogy, therefore you it's kind of the "breather" between two immense reports. It by no means covers a short game - the match itself was 40 minutes long, as compared to 45 minutes for Part 1, and 70 for the final part - yet the images are a little lighter ( relax, there are still good-sized collages ) the quotes a little funnier, and the players are all celebrities. Jamellan, Medics, William - Oh my!
Pregame . . .
I coasted into Nohunters about a week ago, relatively lag-free, and proud of it. Spamming for a battlereported FFA, I got wild yelps of delight from the peanut gallery, and before long we had a massive FFA good to go. Nobody, WC3 William, IHateMedics, Jamellan, Myself ( all legends in this site ) and some crazy unknown called "Nozzle" all joined up. Since the previous sentence is laced with heavy sarcasm, please don't spam me in the Comments section about being arrogant.
Anywho, we got a good game started, in which Jamellan owned Nozzle, WC3 William and Nobody owned Medics, and Nobody was about to win in an epic finale ( probably ). Then I allied all players and accidentally ended the game ( it was ums ). Hey, um, *cough* at least none of them lost!
Needless to say, the all-star participants weren't very impressed. What's more, Nobody was forced to leave by exterior circumstances ( or so he says ) ( pun intended ) ( please laugh ). Nozzle had been defeated courtesy of Jamellan early on, so he was already playing some ultra mucho-money ums, and was unable to join the new game. Yet Medics, WC3 Will and Jame all stumbled into my ffa, ready to show their metal in Part Two of the Ice Trilogy!
WC3 William, smurfing with some stupid name I didn't think much of ( [Team2]Jose ) morphs in an organic, pulsating hatchery at 3:00, while the noble Medics warps in a monolithic Nexus at 6:00, and Jamellan founds his particularly vile Hive Cluster at 9:00. The map is the bitterly cold Thin Ice, where warm volcanic vents well up from the bottom of the ocean, and heat the frozen land. Hence a maze of ice and snow is formed, where frigid weather struggles with the hot interior of the planet. Yet other battles are about to scar this turbulent landscape . . . .
Early Game . . .
Things, as they often do, start quickly. William slaps down a second hatchery as he morphs a spawning pool, checking out the map with wayward ovies. Medics takes a risk like the true Protoss he is, phasing in a trusty Nexus at his natural. Jamellan goes for the typical Zerg strat on a large map: early expo, spawning pool, second hatch at main. More overlords attempt to sniff out their opponents, originating from Jamellan's main.
William, deciding that Hydras are just a little above his level, decides instead to go with zerglings. He rapidly develops his main for full-fledged ‘ling production, mutating a third hatchery, then continually pumps out lings and drones, until he has about 12 or so of the vicious little beasts just raring to go. This is before Medics has any defense. Which is not good.
The Teal Executor is still in that risky mood, and moves to the base above his natural, now a prime target for a quick, devastating rush. Just then, a troop of zergies skitter out from their hive cluster, and doom seems certain to befall at least one of the evil William's squirming foes.
Luckily for Medics the lings race West, but run right under a patrolling ovie. The brown cerebrate gasps as a swarm of zerglings bounds over the horizon, morphing in triple sunkens at his natural. It is not enough. The gosu blue commander micros expertly, taking down double sunkens and wiping out the morphing structure not yet online. William laughs hysterically ( well, not really, but you get the picture ) as his beasts rip into the base and sack it to the ground. Not fair!
William, enthused by his easy triumph, rallies his zerglings to the center and targets Medics, believing he can beat down both commanders for the easy early victory. He quickly morphs an expansion around 12:00, before sending his minions down to, um "deal" with the Executor. Yet resistance is fierce as the swarm bears down upon the defenders from dual flanks, in that pincer play characteristic of all great cerebrates. Quickly warped cannons stall the lings while dragoons take potshots, and with a valiant effort the Protoss barely manage to drive back the invaders - with heavy casualties on both sides.
The hallowed William knows what it's like to be defeated, and doesn't much like it. He spits viciously in the direction of the Protoss base to the Southwest, but ends up hitting a zergling instead, which instantly drops dead. Now truly infuriated, the sickening blue cerebrate sends a newly morphed and truly devastating horde of zergies to smash the expo once again, a very quick followup indeed. What's more, this time the Zerg warriors are escorted by overlords, so the battle is indeed far from decided. Both forces dual for a while, yet the Protoss line ( and remember this is the first and only defense for Medics; the stakes are very high ) holds, and the hideous attackers are once again driven off. With vast losses, and many probes vanquished, the Executor is in a rage, and furiously swears his revenge.
Mid Game . . .
Jamellan, however, always the cool, controlled type, has plans of his own. Deep within his calculating mind he has reached a remarkable conclusion: that mutalisks own lings. Driven by this conviction, he moves to a spire, and soon enough a rather unpleasant sight is visible over the land, heading for William: a flock of deadly mutalisks, intent on revenge.
They get what they want.
Swooping down upon the enemy peon line, the mutalisks cause amazing devastation upon the wretched blue cerebrate, who has wisely ( *cough* ) skimped air defense entirely in the drive to win with lings. Many a drone perish in the creep, but the outraged William is far from finished, with the brilliant idea of spore colonies just seconds away in his brain ( Zerg minds work slowly ).
Just then, in a startling move of treachory, Medics decides to turn on the One that made him famous, and marches into battle with his own devastating squad of goons and zealots. The mighty warriors rip through all zerg resistance, both blue's zerglings and the evil brown mutalisks, and tear into the Zerg Hive cluster with a fury unparreled in the annals of war. William is rendered to sputtering useless gibberish, astounded at this glaring display of double teaming.
The pounding goes on for a while, and the blue cerebrate fights relentlessly with what little lings he has left. Yet in the end the winner is obvious, and Medics exacts a terrible revenge upon his foe. William stumbles into the role of Observer still fuming, but bitterly scheming vengeance with the triple lings and double ovies he has left.
It is now a two player game, and both players eye their sole remaining foe with suspicious glances. Jamellan has expanded well, and now has 3 additional bases to his name, while the Executor has dual expos himself. It is very much a tossup, but at the moment the Protoss have the clear superiority in standing forces.
Medics rallies all he can to the plain just before the cerebrate's main, and his forces look formidable indeed, with a great many goons, zealots and even Dark Templar having joined the fray. I gulp as I see what is arrayed against Jamellan, and hope the Zerg cerebrate can survive to yet make this a good game.
The Protoss minions waste no time in attacking, waiting only for a couple more goons to arrive before rushing out to engage. Waiting for them is a swarm of lings, and a flotilla of mutas, which do very little damage to well-supported invaders. What mutalisks survive flap away to the North, while not a single zergling survive the assault, instead dying gloriously to the Overmind at the hands of the Templar. The sprawling Zerg main is now laid bare, and I have little doubt of the victor. But suddenly, streaming up from the South, a living wave of lings slams into the unexpectant goons, flanking them on two fronts and smashing them to goo, before pouncing on the few remaining Protoss zealots. The Executor is stunned, as his assault is barely repulsed, with the Zerg economy and production capabilities still fully intact.
A lull now settles down upon the battle-scarred land, and flurries drift gently down upon the ever-thickening snow. Medics has not by any means been intimidated, and initiates a frantic rebuilding campaign, believing that a quick followup will mean the difference between victory and defeat. Multiple gateways pump out hordes of zealots, dragoons and templar, rallying them to the Protoss natural. To give you a sense of how stupid I am, I'll throw in the link for the image I was going to use here . . . if you can't figure out why it's wrong, you're even more stupid than me.
The evil Jamellan has also not been idle, and rebuilds all he lost. Unending streams of lings race out of his hatcheries, while the primary lair ominously morphs to a Hive, perhaps in preparation for cracklings, or maybe even for those terrifying defilers whose name is dreaded even within the halls of the Protoss. Although both players have an equal number of expansions, it certainly looks the Executor will win with ease, commanding vastly superior armies than his foe and with higher upgrades.
Suddenly the Protoss armies reach critical mass, and pour forth from their main, rallying just before the Zerg bases, then splitting into two forces, with the intention of a mighty pincer movement arrowing down from two fronts into the brown Main. The first force treks North, then smashes into Jamellan's natural, crushing all early resistance in a hail of brilliant plasma bolts. Yet the victory is short-lived indeed, as unending hordes of zerglings pour out of their lair, slamming into the attackers and blowing them to smithereens in a whirlwind of teeth, claws and blood.
There are a great many casualties on the Zerg side, so Jamellan is utterly unprepared for the second army, which marches up from the south, and rips all defense to shreds before squashing the lowermost brown base like a snail under Mark4's tank. Things look pretty much finished as the mostly-zealot militia slices through all opposition with ease, casually sacking the remaining structures in the base before turning upon the squirming lavae. The road is open to the Zerg main, and streams of Toss reinforcements prepare to deliver the final blow. But Jamellan is not so easily defeated. Infuriated, he enters the minds of his most devastating warriors, and with a single command, spells Medics' doom. Destroy them . . . .
An awesome guardian fleet bears down upon the remnants of the Protoss army, and blows them to smithereens in microseconds. The zealots troop north, but are pursued by the crab-like monsters, and many perish in the blaze of glory. Dragoons are no match for the Zerg behemoths, and many are slaughtered before Medics retreats the few survivors. In perhaps the most astonishing turnaround I've ever seen ( or at least, in the top 3 ), Jamellan has turned victory to defeat at the last moment, simply by secretly teching to a unit for which the Executor is utterly unprepared.
The fliers wreak absolute havoc upon the routed Protoss forces, some of which run to the North to inflict what damage they can upon Jamellan's 12:00 expansion, while others race back to Medics' natural, and the rest just run back and forth, perhaps in an attempt to distract the Zerg guardians while the 12:00 base is razed to the ground. The Executor is about to concede the game, and complains bitterly about his position.
Yet units don't usually distract guardians for long, and the crabs simply blow through everything on their way to save the 12:00 base. By the time they arrive, much has been destroyed, but with a passing volley Jamellan's mightiest warriors exterminate the invaders.
Things continue to look black for Medics, as the Guardians head East, Smashing into a Protoss base, quickly razing it to the ground. At the same time, a zergling strike force bounds into William's former main, where the Executor warped in a great many gateways just minutes earlier. The lings smash the base before being driven off, and with Medics' bases now largely mined out, it seems he can only sit back and watch his doom fly nearer.
Yet then, in an absolutely amazing move, a vast army of zealots runs to the Northwest, with the guardians all the way on the other side of the map! The brave Protoss warriors slice into Jamellan's totally undefended base, sacking it before the hideous Zerg cerebrate can even issue the return command to his flying leviathans. I blink as I watch the evil zeals devastate the last brown buildings in the Zerg main, then head North to obliterate the remaining brown structures. Rather than watch his humiliating demise the guardians are helpless to stop, Jame hops into a waiting overlord and bumbles off into the sky, meeting his fleet far above the planet and entering hyperspace, intent on infesting another world or planetoid. He would return, and when he did . . . the Executor would not outlive the day!
So . . . guardians owned by zealots. How's that for strange. I didn't get a shot of the scores for this match, yet my memory is, astonishingly, still intact. Medics got around 125,000, while Jamellan racked in 90,000 points, and WC3 Willy had about half of that.
The final Part is just ahead . . . so keep reading!
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