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PVP rods were once crafted from modified fishing rods, but innovation has changed the design over the course of years and updates. A regular fishing rod is quickly made with wood and a spool, but modern PVP rods are meant to leverage the weight of creatures much bigger than fish and are usually made with iron cores for durability, and either enchanted spider silk cords or even iron chains. The battle-hooks on the end could snare a hoglin around the neck, and in any legitimate servers are always enchanted to avoid slicing flesh, fur, or feathers (Anarchy servers have created much worse things with serrated battle hooks that can kill as easily as move a target).
PVP rods take careful timing and lots of strength to master, but have been instrumental in tournament winnings for dozens and dozens of the most well-known PVPers in history —
But on Hermitcraft, PVP rods are for the game of seeing just how high unsuspecting fellow Players can be thrown.
It all started off with a much higher level of risk back on the Life server, but with Hermitcraft’s soft respawns the game can go on much longer, to the delight of everyone involved, and the dismay of those on the receiving end of the prank.
One minute Etho’s on the ground, feeling a tug on the back of his pants, and the next he’s tumbling through the sky as several voices scream in laughter. At the peak of his ascent, limbs flailing, there’s a single moment where Etho floats almost weightlessly and his gaze catches the faces of the pranksters: Grian (unsurprising, to put it mildly), Bdubs (absolutely losing it), and Impulse (who’s sheer strength could’ve handled yanking Etho up on his own).
Then Etho is falling, frantically scrolling through their inventory as the ground is coming, and with no water bucket handy they at least have their own rod to make a last-ditch effort with.
They whip around mid-air, slinging the hook with all the effort they can muster, gravity bringing doom ever-nearer until the cord goes taut and relief blooms in Etho’s chest.
It’s a bit of a temporary relief, as while the hook has caught on a cliffside, Etho’s momentum changes direction from down to at the rocks . He tries to hit the cliff like a belaying climber, knees bent and braced, but the hit still shakes his whole body and sends him rebounding, spinning at the end of the rod he clings to. When Etho hits the rock face a second time, they fall, tumbling down to the ground below. It’s not enough of a fall to kill them, thankfully, but it’s deeply ungraceful.
Head spinning, Etho pops their head up as the pranksters scramble down towards them.
“Snappers.” Etho grumbles as Bdubs makes it there first. “Could’ve been worse.”
Bdubs barely stops laughing to offer Etho a hand up. “It was a fancy trick for sure.”
“I didn’t have a water bucket on me!”
“You didn’t notice all the death messages in chat so far today?” Impsule cajoles.
Etho’s head tilts and Bdubs huffs in annoyance. “Well, Etho almost died too!”
“Bdubs died when we surprised him and demanded we give him a chance to redeem himself.” Grian explains, perching nearby. “And then another chance, and another.”
“ Shuddup,” Bdubs points at Grian accusingly, who merely laughs.
Etho points at their lost battle rod, hanging from the cliff face. “Grian, would you mind…”
Grian pushes off from his spot, wings flashing open in a rainbow of color as they bear him aloft. His talons balance him against the rock as he unwedges the battle hook, rapidly looping the cord in his hands before gliding back down to return it to Etho.
“Thanks.” Etho stows it again. “Do I get a prize for being better at surviving this than Bdubs?”
Bdubs starts fuming again and Impulse gives him a pat on the shoulder.
“You can join us!” Grian suggests. “I want to go get Joel next.”
“Oh, count me in.” Etho responds instantly.
In twenty minutes flat the gang of them are crouched atop Joel’s roof watching him where he’s sitting down, eating lunch.
“I bet he has a water bucket,” Grian decides, “But he’s going to miss.”
“If he was paying attention to the chat he’d have seen all the deaths to falling today.” Impulse says.
“Exactly why he’d have a bucket.” Grian shoots back.
“Doesn’t mean he’ll survive.” Etho snorts as he gives his battle hook a spin. “Ready, boys?”
Grian, confident to the point of cocky about his own accuracy, tosses his hook out first, and it brushes the back of Joel’s clothes and misses any purchase. Etho has to slap a hand over Bdubs’ mouth to keep his guffaws from blowing their cover, and Impulse has to grab Grian by the arm to stop him from trying to throw Bdubs off the room. Etho pushes Bdubs down a bit and steps up while Grian fumes.
Etho’s hook sails through the air, silent and graceful, and Bdubs recovers just in time to give a low whistle as it catches the loose fabric of Joel’s shirt without even a tug to alert him to the oncoming storm.
“Hurry up.” Etho gestures as he prepares his grip on his rod, and the others hurry to get their hooks in place.
“A-one,” Etho counts as Joel pauses halfway through taking a bite of his food. “A-two, and a --”
Etho braces his feet and the four of them simultaneously rear backwards, their cords on their rods whipping around the spool. It’s not too uncoordinated of an effort for each of them to set the spools loose again once height is achieved, since what they want is Joel to go up and not directly at them.
An aborted scream escapes Joel, and as he rockets past into the sky, it occurs to Etho that the way he looks to be completely ragdolling is not quite expected, and are his eyes open --?
It all happens pretty fast, and there’s no sign of a water bucket or any other frantic attempt to save himself when Joel comes flying back down again, a slave to gravity. Unsurprisingly, their comms all ping the moment Joel hits the ground and his body vanishes in a quick flash.
[Smallishbeans hit the ground too hard!]
“Another one bites the dust!” Grian shouts amongst the laughter, though Etho is just quiet and puzzled, mulling over what he thought he just saw. He scales down the side of the building as Impulse is already suggesting a new target, and Etho extends a hand to recover Joel’s dropped inventory. When they get close enough, the items compress into pixels and vanish into pocket storage. Etho turns his head towards Joel’s door, already expecting Joel to be slamming it open and shouting curses at them for the prank, and yet ...
Etho pushes inside without a second thought. “Joel?” He calls.
Their ears prick as a response floats to them. “That prank was uncalled for.”
They step into Joel’s room to find him where he respawned on his bed, rubbing his temple and turning his head to muster a glare when Etho comes in. “Seriously? While a man’s on his lunch break and everything? That’s a low blow.”
Etho holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, it was --”
“Grian’s idea? Don’t worry, I could guess.” Joel finishes. Joel doesn’t move to sit up, staying horizontal, and Etho tilts his head.
“Are you okay?”
Joel waves a hand at him. “I’m fine, y’know how standing up too fast gets you sometimes? Or, in this case, being thrown in the air at a thousand miles per hour.”
“Does that always happen when you get up?” Etho ventures curiously, though he tries not to sound much like he’s prying.
“Nah, nothing like that,” Joel dismisses, but Etho immediately has a feeling that it isn’t the truth.
“As a guy who is certified medically complex ,” Etho begins.
“You always sound so proud of that.” Joel interrupts. “What does that have to do with anything, though?”
“I’m saying that I think what you’re feeling is maybe not normal.” They conclude. Joel frowns.
“Getting lightheaded sometimes isn’t weird, Eefo. I think your idea of what’s normal is skewed.”
“If anyone’s going to know something about chronic illness --” Joel’s expression twists a little when Etho says chronic illness, and boy, that’s a feeling Etho knows pretty well. He holds up his hands in a placating way. “Okay, but what if I know a way that we can test it, and you can also prove me wrong by doing cool water bucket tricks.”
“I need to regain my honor or else Grian’s never going to let me live this down,” Joel grumbles. “So, fine.”
Etho doesn’t explain his theory to the others when they get back outside, just says it’s time for science and redemption and Grian, Impulse and Bdubs are not complaining when Etho tells them to get back on the roof so they can throw Joel a few more times. Etho had offered Joel his inventory back, but Joel just took a water bucket and said Etho may as well keep the rest for now. Etho stays on the ground, telling Joel to sit while they wait for the others to get into position, and when they are he calls up to them, “Get your hooks on the back of his shirt, like before.”
“Siryessir!” Bdubs yells, slinging his hook promptly, Grian and Impulse following suit.
Joel almost goes to get up, but Etho says, “No, stay there.”
Etho gives Grian a thumbs up as confusion crosses Joel’s face. “I don’t really know how this is part of your experiment bu-AAAA--”
Etho cranes their neck back to watch Joel fly, and this time, they place the water themselves so Joel doesn’t die on impact. He falls from the sky like a creeper spawned on a cobble platform would, splashing into the water, and Etho immediately wades in to get him by the shoulders.
Joel blinks blearily at Etho. “That was, oh man,” Joel wheezes.
“You blacked out.” Etho tells Joel. “I was wondering if that was what happened the first time.”
“That’s strike two!” Grian shouts at them.
“It’s for science!” Etho calls back.
“Do we get to go again?”
“Yeah, one sec!”
The pranksters whoop with excitement and retract their battle hooks in preparation.
“You’re a messed up scientist.” Joel says to Etho when Etho finally sets Joel on his feet, confident enough that Joel’s not going to crumple.
“Think about who I learned from.” Etho points out as they shake water from their tail.
“Yeah, that would be Doc, huh?”
Etho smiles. “No.” He gives Grian a thumbs up again. “Stress.”
Repeated experiments show the following results: Joel does not pass out if thrown from a standing position, but reliably does if he is sitting or laying down beforehand. However, if the hooks get him below the waist and send him flying upside down, he won’t pass out. He’s also better than the average player at water bucket saves, not counting the attempts where he blacks out mid-air and Etho had to rescue him. Also, anything can be science if it gets written down, or so Etho assures everyone after the trials conclude.
“I don’t even get my prize of helping you guys mess with more people,” Joel complains when they’re finished, his head in Etho’s lap on the couch. “Because I’m exhausted now.”
“Science is hard work.” Bdubs says very seriously.
“We can do it again!” Grian promises. “Especially next time Jimmy’s over. By now, people will be expecting it too much, we’ll just have to come back when it’s a surprise again.”
“Etho,” Impulse asks, and Etho turns their face towards him. “What’s your scientific conclusion?”
“Oh, Joel’s in the chronic illness club for sure.” Etho answers. “It’s a great time.” They give Joel a consoling pat on the shoulder. “Your heart’s trying its best, Boat Boy, gravity is just your enemy.”
“So this was just a really demented tilt table test.” Impulse observes.
“What’s a tilt table test?” Bdubs queries.
Impulse and Etho exchange a look, with Impulse suppressing a smile.
“Don’t worry about it.” Etho answers. “Joel, you get an award for being better at water bucket saves than a lot of people on this server.”
“I want that in writing.” Joel responds, snuggling a bit more into Etho’s warmth.
“You’re leagues better than Bdubs,” Grian volunteers.
“ HEY!”