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History[]

Portal Bob

— …Nah, Steeplejack had a different story. His real name is actually Bob, but people call him Steeplejack for a reason. What kind of reason? Well, if you grease my glass, maybe I'll tell you. Now that's better. It's so chilly today...

So look, it all started when the local gang leader heard some whispers saying “The Queen of Roses” had not yet been frisked. It's an expensive hotel, even had a bar with the holo-thingies on the top floor. So why hadn't anyone tried breaking in before? They had, but since the whole Crossout horror show, hornets have found their new home there. Big as a duck, no less, stingers as thick as your fingers, and with acid for poison too. A prick or two, and they're dragging you off to their nest to lay eggs in you.

What do you mean “baloney”?! Wanna tell the story yourself? No? Didn't think so, just bring another mug!

So yeah. No volunteers to be found at all. Except for Bob. The leader glanced at him and nearly died laughing: a bloody stick figure of a man with a short sidekick to boot — Hoglet. We'll climb, he said, just give us the equipment, we don’t have any. Ropes, a gun, a jetpack to make the climb easier, and some camouflage putty, to keep the hornets from smelling their true nature. Why the heck would they need the putty though, the jetpack ran on the purest moonshine ever and reeked to high heavens? That's some expensive hardware right there, but the leader gave it a thought and thought to hell with it, he could spend the money for a spectacle like this. So Bob and Hoglet took everything and advanced.

What do you mean couldn't work on moonshine?! Even crazier machinery comes alive in capable hands, you dipstick. Thought you were a techie!...

“The Queen” was one hell of a crypt. When the hullabaloo started, the security system went haywire and locked the doors along with the windows, and Crossout was right there. Loads of people died there. Some guys with optics told me that there are skeletons on every floor, squeaky clean too. The hornets scraped all the meat right off of them. Not just the men, but the women and children too... just bones. But it didn’t scare Bob, he's nuts, but Hoglet was whining all the time. All in all, loads of fun.

Here's what they decided: Bob goes upstairs, and Hoglet stays downstairs, providing cover. So they smeared the putty all over and got down to business.

The climbing was taking a long time for Bob. The wall cracked at the floor thirty-something, everything below was blocked up. If you start making noises, the buzzers will find you in a second. And his friend kept pushing him from below, he said, the swarm is calm, move it.

A couple of floors remained, and then the engine got jammed. Started to rumble, stink, and then it lost power, and Bob slowly, like a snowflake, began to fall. Hoglet saw it, started pulling the safety line, and then panicked and screamed like a pig. And the sound of the dying jetpack, can you imagine, woke the creatures up.

Too late for that safety line. The engine stopped, and they were left alone, like two lovers — just Bob and his wall. Yet his will to live was so strong, that he miraculously snatched a grapple and climbed four floors up the wall like an arachno-man. They said four floors in less than a second, what a nimble Steeplejack!

There wasn't a sound from Bob for hours, and then suddenly the lights blinked at the very top, where the bar was. The poor bastard said he was alive and that he would soon come down with the package. It turned out that the jetpack itself was intact, but Hoglet hadn't oiled the insides, so the engine gave up. Bob got ready, picked up as many bottles of living water as he could, set the thrusters to maximum and dropped right down. The buzzers heard the motor and popped their heads out. The sky turned black, and the buzzers shattered not just the glass, but the walls themselves. They had to take those creatures down with rockets, imagine that, rockets, and they fried the remains with flamethrowers! The hornets started spraying their gas, but everyone had hazmat suits, so no one died.

Where's the acid? What acid? They had gas in their bellies, weren't you listening? Let me finish!

The loot that Bob dragged in was enough for a month. Every local raider was happy for a very long time, and the hero earned his nickname Steeplejack and some serious job offers — everyone saw he had enough courage. There's also a funny story about Hoglet, but let me tell you another time... Let's have another mug!...


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