“Hey guys, Fomalhaut07 back again with an update to an old video I did about the Kifnesser gear set. I thought I'd revisit it because I know a lot of people ask me, they ask in forums and stuff, and in comments, they want to know what stages are best to farm in idle. So now Kiffnesser's easy to get, and I said it was bad, but has anything changed?

“Kinda. Remember the last raid? The raid bosses, uh, the Strufors, they have a lot of Flinch on their attacks, but they don't ignore resist. No Intimidate or any percentage thing. I mean, we're all winning those fights anyway, you're getting the reward, but it could be way faster with all the Flinch Resist you can get on Kiffnesser. Is it worth farming it just for that, probably not, but if it's idle, sure, go for it.”

The Vigilant Patrol frenzy lasted less time than some assembly sessions once the participants took their new gear to the Armory and realized what it did.

“I researched it prior, but there's a different calculation when you have to decide whether to equip it,” said Rylweadh of Mercy to widespread agreement. The downcast officers, disappointed in themselves rather than by their failure to improve their gear, filed out of the room and into excitement.

The dining hall! The monitor! The two ingredients any good crafting system required to upgrade the commonplace into a sensation. The monitor turned on, shocking officers who had persuaded themselves that hoping for more Commandment of Hero: Ersatz Struggle roster slots to open up would only cause pain. Like a foot, long asleep, they felt tingles that stung but invigorated them, and those tingles grew so strong that Tinni Ilx for example fainted, screamed, and cried. Possibly in that order.

The portion of the population that had kept its hope or never had any in the first place responded with more equanimity. Whistling, settling back in chairs, putting their hands behind their heads, and nudging a neighbor were common reactions. Another was telling people to cut it out with all that whistling and chair-creaking already. Some officers wanted to listen to the announcement. Who would it be? Quircy Rau? Hilliarde Feablas? A delay? Beryllia Ven? Dark Cadmos?

None of the above, dummies. Two arms, four legs, and countless arrows! Waltzing Matilda took aim at Cadmos and hit every time, except with the move that spewed arrows in multiple directions. She pranced, capered, and jumped to shoot. You thought Count Poitnem looked good with those projectiles of his, but how about a hoppity zoner? No? Try saying yes for once.

“Clearly I don't understand anything.” Skaya settled herself down next to Tinni Ilx and fainted in an unobtrusive, discreet manner. Captain Hwanimesca and Jonathan Brightwater reexamined their prediction notes, grunted, and joined them.

“Out of all the centaurs!” Local Fisher's tail spun fast enough that she almost achieved a rear-first takeoff, her eyebrows contorted, and her fishing pole traced in the shuddering air runes signifying words in an unholy language she had learned in Holy Legend Army from Hell Lord. “They picked a good one! There aren't any bad centaurs though. Heh heh. Sorry, other races!”

Waltzing Rudolph née Matilda drew out an arrow and scratched her own runes with its point. “Thank you,” people who had attended Hell Lord's class understood them to say. “Congratulations on your inclusion,” Local Fisher had written.

Most of the officers maintained a puzzled yet polite silence during the Waltzing Matilda segment. Then it ended. The whole video.

“I was so sure she was balancing out a super popular guy! So sure!”

“That's it? Eleven characters?”

“Hey Dosellian, think that's all? It's fine to lie sometimes.”

But he refused to lie. About that. He congratulated Waltzing Rudolph in fulsome terms, another non-lie, as did the rest except for a few more fainters. Lynissia for one decided to join that last group after she reviewed her list. Speaking of joining, as much as every CoH maniac out there hoped for a roster of sixty or so, manpower shortages hindered the formation of another team to back Matilda.

Who was left? Dosellian Urapta, Coremel, and Dennet refused to take sides for the sake of presenting themselves as impartial experts available for consultation by all. Castru, Leaznalo, and Ipons Ulsrada pretended the same, as did Gintus Pelluina regarding non-fighting matters. Liya, Sigmund, and Beans Istemus could by no efforts be persuaded to care about any of this spinoff business “unless they smarten up and implement themselves a real winner, like Surfs or the boss.” Evening Best was presumed to share that attitude by officers who remembered he existed. Taiphan Ninx, Formal Figro, and Tramda Olex maintained the pride of kings for all that their chances had become, or always were, lower than a Common's Critical Chance. As for Sindze U. Radalo, she had formed her own association called Team Furious Galaxy Is Getting a MOBA You Say.

While Cadmos strove to persuade some of the recalcitrants to relent, a conference in another part of the dining room reached a sure conclusion.

“Pull me back if I'm getting too far ahead, but judging by our reaction, she might be the officer who falls the furthest short of expectations.” All of Team Second Push agreed with Clyse's analysis. Sandshaker Youl added that she had always preferred Waltzing Rudolph's non-Christmas version as it reminded her of a character she liked from S****** F****, her favorite tactical RPG series. Accordingly, Bel Felicitous Fasde and his earnest band approached the latest entrant with a proposal.

“Precedent holds that each faction contains one and only one neo-era fighter. Precedent and nothing else!” Mentor Tendradius Pux raised his sword high in emphasis.

Waltzing Rudolph looked him in the eyes. “I like precedent.”

“As you should. But to set one is a worthier act than merely following those established by others. I urge you to join Team Second Push as we refashion the world in the image of our own will.”

“Ah, a noble sentiment, and therefore the most debased. Who can create without destroying? Even the void was obliterated when the Word filled it. Ahahaha!” Frossard walked out of the room, but his laugh haunted it long after.

Valuable input, and Waltzing Rudolph considered that along with the entire matter of Team Second Push's proposal as deeply as she did everything else, which was quite a bit. “Sure,” she said at last, and that was that.

“Go, my minions! Steal that school bus full of children!” Obeying the command of the masked villainess, a bunch of thugs wearing rubber suits moved toward the bus prop, walking with their legs splayed far apart and weaving back and forth so as not to cross the small stage in a few steps.

“Those children are helpless! Who's going to protect them?” A handsome young man walked out on the front of the stage as that alarming situation developed behind him. He paced left and right while looking right and left, peering in an exaggerated manner, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“You!” shouted the audience at the prompting of signs held up by Youl Sandshaker and North Pole Azinsia.

“That's right! But only if you back me up! Warp On!” Bel Felicitous Fasde raised his lens over his head. Smoke shot up from the stage, colored blue for Flood of course, and dispersed to reveal the century's greatest hero, Warpman. The kids of Paradise the Enchant clapped with enough enthusiasm that Warpman soon sent the loathsome little scoundrels scurrying off the stage, but that only angered their leader.

“Using this arrow, I'll take control of Warpman's mind! A greater prize than those children!” The four-legged fiend leapt up and released the mischievous missile that shocked the audience by striking Warpman right in his justice-loving heart. Amid the wails and tears, the triumphant terror who hated what was good stood over the only hero capable of scuppering her plans and gloated. “When you rise, you'll be mine, Warpman! The reign of Dark Centaur Lady begins today! Guhuhuhuhu!”

“Crashing Tempest!”

“Eeyah!”

Warpman rose not with evil in his heart but with a leaping uppercut which some people might call evil no matter how standard a move it was. Dark Centaur Lady fell off the stage, Warpman declared that justice and lenses always prevail, the crowd applauded, and Team Second Push cleared out. The Swept Wing 5 show from Brave Cumulus started up as the Warpman cast and crew withdrew to the dressing room.

“Serviceable work today, Commons. Most impressive is that you understand speech.” Mentor Tendradius Pux handed each of the rubber minions the day's pay: one entire Pure Orb each.

Clyse objected on behalf of all Rares. “We never got paid, and we don't get paid today, either. It was a year before I even saw one of those.”

“We expected you little hogs to sniff out your own.” Dr. Stezlinstein pushed in her nose with her thumb and mimed a truffle hunt.

“That wasn't an option before Vigilant Patrol. When it was, we did it.”

“Then what's the problem? Not enough of a challenge? Do you want to take a few Commons with you next time? They could use the exercise.”

Waltzing Matilda finished folding up and packing away her villainess costume. “We are booked in Lovely Interest next. Reneging is no option.” Her focused gaze permitted no dissent from those upon whom it fell, while her straight mouth said nothing dishonest.

“You're a really weird pick for the bad guy now that I think about it hey is that a fan?” North Pole Azinsia pointed at the newcomer, a man known to all through pigeon-ferried letters but to few outside of Convergence/Divergence by his appearance. That game's players knew well his #87 jersey in orange and white, and there was a good number of those according to most estimates. Not enough for a spinoff, apparently, but quite a few. The CoH officers intended to greet their guest with an air of distant politeness, but he cut them off with an overpowering air of commercial interest.

“Salutalations! That's a fun greeting I'm trying out. Hi there. My name is ways=means, and you'd better believe I live up to the implication. I'm inventive when it comes to helping people out, and I like when they can show their gratitude in an unimaginative way.”

“You're the UTAS guy! I'm a huge fan of your work.” Clyse shook his hand. Both of them beamed.

“I never thought I'd be known as any kind of guy, unless it's 'that in-the-way guy.' I never understood before what good pride did anyone, but man, I feel great. I do deal in other goods, ask me about my prices, but UTASes are my main business now and especially today. Right at this moment, languishing back in C/D, I have a stock of improved models that can do more than routine tasks. Not too much, mind you. Simple darning, lawn care, acting out bit parts, and writing screenplays about a chance meeting in a Sit Snug that turns into something more. That's what they have over the old model, and it's just what you need to expand your bookings and perforce your revenues.”

“Interesting. Who's the supplier of these new models? Actually, who's the supplier of the old ones?”

ways=means tapped the side of his nose. “If I have a talent, it's not ever learning unprofitable details.”

“Makes sense. What do we think?”

The other members except Azinsia, who was stalking a butterfly, already had their heads together. “Who else can play Dark Centaur Lady?” asked Youl Sandshaker.

“Dasher Christmas can. His voice is higher than mine. Pocket Button as soon as she is purchased. That is all. Barring costumes.”

“But the cost of costumes with hydraulic hind legs won't be nothing. You sure it's only those two, Waltzing Matilda?”

“I am wholly sure, Boxer Andit.”

Clyse observed that conversation. “I hope I'm not giving you information harmful to my side's interests, but I think you're about to make a sale.”

“Oh, I think so too. I really do.”