Category Archives: WoW

Ain’t no shame where there’s fun

Two weeks ago, Stubborn had an interesting article up where he compares the more grindy and reward-driven activities in WoW to gambling addiction. Now, discussions on video game addiction are always very problematic: while some ingame activities might resemble or share aspects of addictive behaviour, there are quite some hefty criteria for truly constituting “addiction” in the pathological sense of an illness. For one thing, its highly negative and disruptive impact on everyday life, to a point where the addiction stands above all other needs and the most basic cares will be neglected. For another, signals such as substance increase and withdrawal symptoms. Just because somebody is crazy about an activity and enjoys doing it a lot, or has a very competitive nature, does not automatically expose him as addict – although, there are no doubt extreme cases of video gaming where all these factors coincide.

However, it’s no secret that MMO design appeals to patterns and behavioural routines of the human subconscious. Some developers speak openly about triggering the collector’s drive of their player base or the “lever-reward” mechanic when designing content. Videogames are manipulative; we all know that. But as long as it’s fun, we’re happy to go along.

Most of the time, anyway.

I remember an old article at PPI, where Larísa pondered the heavy chains of daily quests and how she felt pressured to go through boring routines every time she logged on, when she didn’t actually enjoy them anymore. She was far from alone: many players in MMOs engage in time-consuming and repetitive activities, called the “grind”, which they loathe but will tolerate in order to gain rewards. They spend insane amounts of time forcing themselves to repeat content, reward drive and peer pressure usually winning the upper hand of the struggle. Wikipedia has the following to say about this sort of behaviour:   

Compulsive behavior is behavior which a person does compulsively—in other words, not because they want to behave that way, but because they feel they have to do so.

Personally, I’ve always hated daily quests and rep grinds; I kept them at a minimum if I could, although being in a raid guild simply comes with certain “obligations”. The fact that I didn’t enjoy stuff like gaining exalted with the Sons of Hodir or collecting cooking tokens showed me that I was still relatively sane though. That is not to say that I never entered boring grinds completely out of my own volition: I did, I was running the same instances for months and years after all and a few times I farmed mobs for special rewards that I simply considered too shiny to skip. For most of the time though, I’d only undergo this type of drudgery if I really had to. I was very lazy that way.

It still baffles me how daily and rep grinds have become such an accepted form for gaining rewards in MMOs, while players will consider more varied and orchestrated forms of reward-gain, like attunement chains, a nuisance. I don’t want to start counting the hours and days players spend on cashing in the same quest item at the same daily quest NPC. How is that activity more fun than other so-called “time sinks”?

It can’t be bad if it’s fun

I’ve always been very outspoken against gaming bias and stigma, very pro “play as much as you like” as long as you’re enjoying yourself. And I hold to that. I won’t hide my playtime from anyone and I feel no shame for all the hours spent in front of a TV or PC, adventuring through virtual planes and having some of the greatest laughs ever. There is nothing wrong with having fun – and only you know if that applies or if some things are maybe slightly off balance. But just because you’re doing a lot of the same doesn’t make you a “junkie”. It can’t be a bad thing if you are enjoying yourself.

A good 13 years back, my older brother was what the average person would call a bad gaming addict. He rushed off to get a copy of Ultima Online when many private households didn’t even have a PC with internet yet, logging in every day with a  crappy 30k and later 56k (omg!) modem, blocking our phone line and driving my parents crazy. This was the time when internet access was still horrendously expensive, charging minutes and hours per day before the first subscriptions came out, our monthly phone bill ranging in the area of 1500 Euros for the first few months of his “UO spree”. There was nothing that would keep my brother from playing this game; not the many keyboards and mouses my father removed several times, only to be replaced within the next 24 hours, not the smashed modem on the wall which my brother then cunningly hid inside a book case.

I remember sitting next to him on his bed countless nights, watching him play in silence – trying to spend some time with my sibling, or is physical shell anyway, while his mind was absorbed somewhere in Britannia. I remember finding him asleep, crashed halfway to the way of his bed one morning, I remember the dirty, stained desk with leftover food and cigarette ash. I remember his intricate list of directions for me to log into the game each week and “refresh his towers” while he was off to obligatory military service, terrified to lose his virtual possessions. It was a mad ride but it’s all my brother wanted at the time. I remember him roaring from laughter in front of his PC, chatting with his pals on MirC. The game certainly didn’t make him miserable.

After what was probably a good 3 years of intense Ultima Online gaming and a dark red player killer reputation to go with it, my brother had finally flunked his studies at University. Add an angry girlfriend to go with that, unhappy parents and some considerable debts for an unemployed student of his age to pay them back. And yet, to this day, my brother has the following to say about his UO days: that it was some of the best times he’s had in his life. To this day, there’s not a little regret for having played that MMO – regrets for never graduating sometime surely, but never regrets for playing the way he did.  

…because these things were not directly connected. And he’d admit to that, in a quiet moment sometime over a good glass of wine in the evening, he’d tell you that he had plenty of good reasons to play as much as he did at the time.The game was there when he needed an excuse, a trigger to smash what needed smashing sooner or later. And yes, he did play too much; but he would never have finished those studies anyway. It was not for him, and I think by now he knows that too. The game was just there at a time when he needed to escape. Escape the expectations of adult life maybe, his girlfriend’s, his parents’. The game was fun and fun became an outlet. A place to rest, even if a mere onlooker could never understand and would no doubt blame his gaming addiction for everything.

My brother enjoyed playing as much as he did. It wasn’t great on all accounts, but neither was the game the cause of his deeper issues. Excessive gaming is at worst a symptom of an underlying issue and sometimes it can help a person and act as a catalyst. Maybe it has the power to let someone re-invent himself in a way he otherwise never could. Maybe it gives somebody a break, a place where he can be himself without the physical or mental ties that usually bind him. Maybe it can offer acceptance and affirmation to a hungry soul. Maybe it simply has the power to let a lonely heart find a place to chat and laugh with people of no further consequence.

Maybe it grants someone an escape in a time of deep distress; and maybe it has the power to let a person heal through difficult times before rising the stronger for it. Life is about breaks and sometimes it’s about phases of stasis or even paralysis. We are so used to rushing on blindly and pushing forward that we feel guilty to take timeouts for ourselves. Everyone is telling us to be productive, constructive, decisive. Yet, it is exactly during times of standing still and sinking deep where life has a chance to reshape and re-orientate, where we have a chance to listen more closely. It’s not always the best of feelings; waiting, standing in that empty white room between two doors before life turns the next page. For myself though, I am learning to embrace empty spaces. There is something unique and comforting about a white page, about not knowing where the road will lead.

Escape can be a way to return, just like sleep can be a way to recharge your batteries. I’m not sure the same should be said of all forms of escapism, such as substance addiction – for gaming however, I hold a torch for those that either play a lot for pure enjoyment or for catching their breath. Or both. Maybe both most of the time.

What I wish for you

To close, I feel I am left with two humble wishes –

I wish for players to enjoy their online adventures and enjoy them plenty.
I wish for players to be less ashamed of playing games.

The more alts, the more burnout

To pick up where I left the trail in my last post: Alts are pure evil.

No really, playing alts is a fascinating subject. Not just on a personal level, but in the greater scheme of things and how they affect MMOs. While I was rather outright about all the issues I perceive with alt-play yesterday, and the general misconception that playing alts is performance therapy, I do understand why people love to play different classes just like I agree it can be beneficial. I can see why trying out a new class is fun and makes for a more informed decision for a main. I do this myself when I start a game. However, personally I’d prefer the approach Final Fantasy XI had there: one character can learn and “equip” any given combination of classes available. That way your main character stays, but learns new things if you so choose.

I understand too, why players enjoy to re-visit content. I think it’s rather problematic if designers promote the feature in absence of actual, new content, but if you’re generally somebody who loves questing, exploring and traveling, leveling up a new class gives you a reason to do so and discover new things on the way. A new class and potentially new race is a new perspective. Shintar is one blogger who frequently let’s us in on her experiences while re-visiting lower content and zones in WoW. They’re fun reads that I enjoy and appreciate from that particular perspective.

Yet, I still wonder: do alts really prolong long-term player enjoyment or do they not rather make for a worse burnout?

Burnout, boredom or nothing to do?

“….but when and why did we get the idea that we must have max-level, max-profession, max-gear alts? That’s not an alt, that’s a second main! Is one main not good enough? Maybe we need more fun and more to do on our mains, rather than spamming alts and then getting sick of repeating quests.”

So, when did we get this idea? I’m not sure I ever played a game where alternative characters mattered more than in World of Warcraft. Some MMOs actually require you to buy a new account, others will restrict the level of benefit and interaction possible between your characters. They don’t want a single player to have that amount of self-sufficiency; to unhinge the intended speed of play or undermine social mechanisms and interaction in favor of more freedom, flexibility and soloability.

I’ve known a few extreme examples of players that considered leveling and gearing up a character the main purpose in WoW. They did so at ridiculous speed until they had all 10 classes (I got it right this time Shintar!) fully equipped at 85. After which there was “nothing more to do” so they quit the game. Or a guildmate who was so eager for the new expansion that he did not only raid Ulduar on his main 3 times a week, but on alts during offnights too. Something we’ve always watched with concern in our raid guild because we anticipated (and experienced) just how fast such players burn and bore out on content that you intend to raid for at least the next 6 months. We did even intentionally cut back on alt-runs at expansion starts for this precise reason.

I don’t believe boredom springs from the same things for everybody. Some players would undoubtedly quit sooner if there were no alts. Others spoil what’s actually there for themselves by altoholism and short-term thinking. I don’t blame anyone for either decision, but I think in terms of content development, it’s poor design that needs people to play multiple chars all over in order to keep things interesting. The crux is probably the entire idea behind expansions and how content is usually delivered in peaks, rather than a more natural flow. I am still waiting for an MMO where the developers approach this issue better.

Another problem with the availability of alts is that they’re too convenient a solution – in a way they prevent players from looking for further content and entertainment after they feel “finished” on their main. How does this notion even go together with a character that’s supposed to be your alter ego in an ongoing story and simulate world? It doesn’t; unless you think of the classic game avatar. So, let’s assume for a moment that there were no alts available in WoW: what would you do with your “excess time'”? Would you rather –

a) Turn off the game and do something else?
b) Look for other ways to play your main?

Would people maybe contribute more to the world and community by sticking to their main because they are forced to? Would it not drive them to become more innovative and creative about what to do next? Would they really just run out of things to do?

Ideally, in a more open-world MMO than WoW, I’d like to see no alts. I would rather see people invest time in interacting more and creating things in the game. Yeah, HA-HA, I know that’s not the way things are currently going in the world of MMOs, but it’s what I’d like anyway. In WoW’s case options are limited but let’s still have a look at potential side-effects. Without alts people would probably –

  • re-visit older zones and content on their mains more often
  • team up more with random strangers because they want/need that class*
  • help out lowbies more
  • invest more time in inter-guild relations
  • rely on each other more for crafting and trade
  • play more PVP, arrange more outdoor conflict
  • have less money and therefore do a lot more of XYZ

That’s just from the top of my head. You can think of more things to do without alts at your disposal. Depending on your perspective as a player and customer, all of the things listed can be either positive or negative. Maybe you don’t want to cooperate or rely on others more, maybe you enjoy having an alt for every trade, maybe you are after making money. I’m not – to me most of that list is positive, whatever actually makes people play together, communicate, cooperate, create. The more interaction you have, the more stories you will tell at the end of the day.

*The one big downside I see is group setup / guild related: in a game ruled by the holy trinity, alts give guilds flexibility to go ahead with a run despite the lack of tanking, healing or dpsing mains. Canceled raids are a sad affair. People can respec or if need be, relog. Without this option, guilds would probably just end up inviting more people as backup players for their roster and that doesn’t really work out so great during times when raiding is most popular. This is strictly from a WoW-centric view though, amending one bad with another. In a way specs and alts are Blizzard’s own saboteurs to the trinity, even if “bring the player not the class” is still a dream. A different MMO without the whole class/role hysteria would be fine without alts: you wouldn’t need them for group balance.

The road less traveled by

I will blow into last week’s horn a little and ask just how many opportunities and stories we’re missing out on because an MMO offers the easy alt road. How different could social dynamics and life on servers be if everyone only ever had one main? What would people come up with instead?

Just like short-cuts turn into delays, too much convenience can turn into boredom. I’m sure developers welcome players that spend big amounts of time on alts, but I’m not sure if it really works out long-term? If it makes for a massive and more terminal boreout later, convincing you to keep paying that subscription will become increasingly difficult. Not just that, but the pressure to deliver expansions fast and keeping things fresh and interesting gets worse and worse on the developer’s side.

Nobody likes the samey grind forever. Candy is yum, but eating too much of the same candy is boring and gives you stomach ache. Already my granny knew that.

The common alt misconception

In a recent comment on a not so different topic, Klepsacovic left the following comment:

What’s so great about alts? It’s nice to have something to tinker with and to learn a bit about how other classes see the game, but when and why did we get the idea that we must have max-level, max-profession, max-gear alts? That’s not an alt, that’s a second main! Is one main not good enough? Maybe we need more fun and more to do on our mains, rather than spamming alts and then getting sick of repeating quests.

This is particularly interesting: for one thing, it did remind me of a similar comment I had left on BBB where I stated that the gravitation towards alt-play in WoW was a bad sign for the game, not a good one. I’m no fan of alts for many reasons. But this recent comment brought another interesting notion to the table, one quite contrary to the popular belief that playing alts prolongs the fun of playing the same game for long. You hear it often in that context: playing alts makes people tire less fast of WoW because it provides them with the chance to review content from a different angle. Or maybe not.

Why alts are no friends of mine /open parentheses

I’ve never been into the alt business for several reasons. Firstly, I am a rather strict “alter ego” player that plays MMOs for virtues such as story, world, simulation, community and immersion. It always felt like diving headlong into a book or strange universe to me, one that I travel and explore as myself – my adventures, my continuous story. And for that simple reason, my toons would resemble my true self and there was only ever the one me. That’s a matter of preference and perspective – I don’t expect others to join me on this. Let’s just say that playing multiple characters in an MMORPG feels like I am sat in front of the start screen of some classic console game where I’m supposed to pick a random character to go with.

My second reason is that I cannot play a “second or third rate character”. Unless you have an endless supply of time and a more casual guild, alts inevitably end up being your inferior toons. A little less shiny than your main, a little less experienced, a little less travelworn, a little less access to things. A little less of everything. I hate that; I hate sub-par, I don’t do sub-par versions of myself. If I was to heal some random 5man on an alt, I would constantly end up comparing it to healing the run on my priest – it would seem absolutely pointless to me or even a little selfish (“sorry group, had my priest been here we’d be so much faster”). To make matters worse, I’d have to repeat a ton of content, let alone stupid daily and rep grinds that my perfectionism would force me to go through. Myeah, I think not.

Last but not least, one big reason is playtime. I already dedicated a lot of time to WoW as it was – raiding, guild leading, forum and webpage work, PVPing, collecting silly baubles and exploring the world, you name it. There were dailies and token runs and whatnot, I could barely keep up doing those regularly. So, if I ever truly felt I was “finished” with Syl for the day, I really did not want to relog and start over on some alt. I’d rather dedicate time to my other hobbies. The balance hasn’t always been there between WoW and other things I enjoy, but I used to draw the line at playing on weekends or playing alts.

To honour truth here: I levelled a shaman once into the early 70ies and played her on a few 5man and 10man runs. My total playtime at the end of WotLK was 12 days or something and it felt pretty much pointless, besides showing me that elemental is OP levelling up and that I pity the melee for constantly running after tank aggro. I think I did it mostly to have the chance to join guild alt-runs (:peer pressure:), but I never got there. Every time I logged to the shaman, I felt like forcing myself: this wasn’t an alt of Syl, this was a nuisance, a disturbing sidekick. And yes, I had a lot less gold than most of my alt playing mates, but here’s the thing: I like asking other people to help me craft something. 

Besides this experience I never had any alt worth mentioning. Oh, I created toons aplenty and transferred them to Elwynn Forest where they became happy mules ever after. I can escort you from northern Kalimdor to Stormwind on foot with my eyes closed.. However, most available time must be dedicated to “maximize” my main. And if not, I log off (or alternatively, idle and chitchat while running through Dalaran in circles which is jolly good fun). I also believe that you are never “done” on your main, anyway. If I really had “excess time” besides my main focuses, PvP was always the next stop. Here I felt I was doing something meaningful towards my experience as a player and healer.

Personal parentheses closed.

The common alt misconception

Preferences aside, the longer I played and met various “altoholics”, the more I detected issues. Not with everyone mind, but quite a few people. The most prominent notion around is that alts make you a better player. Just like that. I remember a particularly mind-numbing conversation with a former maintank of our guild who wasn’t only one of our most fickle and unstable members, but such a screwup in various situations that we used him as melee whenever possible to “minimize the damage” (sorry DPS, it’s true) to the raid. So there I was, finding myself playing arena matches with the guy, probably by the machinations of some sadistic deity or something. We were short on a member and one of my team mates just grabbed the next best replacement before even asking me.

Wonderful. I spent the next 60 minutes listening to his blabber during queues, about how playing his priest and warlock had given him profound insights towards our raids and how he was definitely the best of our MTs in both PvP and PvE for this reason. He was also rather adamant about being able to give raiding priests and warlocks tips now because he had teh multiple perspective. He also finally understood all the “spell abbreviations they like to use”, like PoH and GS….Things between us went downhill from there.

The guy was just a hilarious example of the underlying issue. He was a shitty player with no degree of self-awareness and understanding of his own class – and therefore he stayed a shitty player despite his alts. Quantity is not were the insights lie. And WoW is not rocket science, no matter what some guys on Elitist Jerks would have us believe. Good players are good players, no matter what toon they play and vice versa. In fact, some of the best players I ever met were passionate about their main and the other half was excellent no matter what class they played. Because they set their mind to it, because they had a quick grasp or just a lot of ambition. They approached their alts in the same way they approached their main. The sucky players sucked no matter what character they played, some shades of difference granted.

So, to sum it up for kicks: You don’t go and play your priest and hunter because they will help you suck less on your warrior. It doesn’t quite work that way.  First and foremost, you play alts because you have time to play alts. You play alts because you enjoy playing alts. And that’s all there is to it. If you truly want to improve on your main, play your main. In any possible situation: practise on your main. First stop to improve your flexibility: PVP. If you’re set on improving, surely you’re willing to go through the drudgery?

Playing alts can give you insights into other classes. It does not make you a better player. There is no direct causality between these two things. 

Now, I can see why somebody who generally likes to “know everything” (aka walking encyclopaedia) or someone who loves to re-visit content would enjoy alts, or why a raidleader would consider it beneficial. It is. A change of focus is always beneficial if you actually know what you’re looking for. I’d never claim that playing alts has no positive potential, but it’s the player that makes it work or not. And it is not necessary in order to be a great player. There is also such a thing as “knowing too much” or thinking you know something when you do not quite yet. From years of personal experience and teaming up with great leaders, I have found this to be true: you don’t have to know everything about other classes in order to lead a charge well. That’s just airy nonsense some leaders like to intimidate you with or to boost their own ego. There is something called “functional knowledge” and that’s what I used when coordinating raid healing. I knew the things I needed to know about the other classes. I knew what was in any way relevant to our role, job and position in raids, about co-healers’ classes, about the tanks, about the DPS. And I knew these things from actually talking to those who had raided on their mains for years, from observation, from learning from them and working together. Plus being an attentive and active person on forum discussions and on healer specific sites.

So, this is my recommendation for all ye coordinators: do not be tempted to know everything about others to the point where you start doing all the thinking for them. They can be expected to know the things that concern playing their class properly. You should not have to know all the ins and outs for others or you will start babysitting every last thing much sooner than you know. Especially if you are a bit of a perfectionist or control freak, which is almost a given in leadership, save yourself by some intended ignorance.

Bottom line: do it all if you enjoy it, knock yourself out – but don’t think you “have to”.

Further issues with playing alts

Manalicious recently posted an article on how playing alts affected her raiding in negative ways. As mentioned before, I have very little personal experience with situations like these, but I can still relate. The few times I ran 5mans on the shaman, I was overly aware of the healer in my back, more than your average DPS would be. As a consequence, I was helping out with healing when I felt the healer struggling, too often than I probably should have. If you’re switching class frequently, it can be demanding to ask your mindset and routines to fully switch over every time. Maybe it is even impossible to perform on the same level as somebody who plays the same class for longer periods of time and has therefore a lot more “automatisms” in place.

But to get back to the beginning of this article: one big issue with playing alts is player burnout. I’m not at all convinced that alts really achieve long-term, what their short-term effect is being sold for – keeping people entertained longer and giving them more things to do. It seems to me that especially long-term, alts have the potential to lessen your enjoyment in the game and not just that, they have the potential to affect the entire world, the social mechanics on servers and their internal progress, negatively. This is the essence of the initial quote I posted and something I want to look into in a follow-up article tomorrow:  

More alts, more player burnout? – Let’s find out.

Placeholders for real things – shortcuts to nowhere

Dear player: it’s time to remove the keys you enjoy so much, because let’s face it, they serve no purpose anymore besides a symbolic one.  Games are not about symbolism, memories and emotions, this is SRS business. And it saves space on your bars.

We’ve removed the shiny gear and baubles you used to acquire by battling adversaries. It’s not practical. Instead, your rewards are tokens for everything. The tokens all look the same and they aren’t even real tokens, but numbers on a list – we know that’s not very exciting. But it makes loot distribution more even. Less waiting for you.

We removed the requirements for that instance, by the way. No more attunement to proceed. Plus, you can solo the chain if you’ve no patience for a group.

Please note that because of all this, we don’t have enough content since yesterday. However, we really don’t like to see you waste space or time on anything, so we’ll help you save on these things. We don’t know what you’ll do with all the excess, but we are sure you’ll think of something. We want you to be happy right now, not tomorrow.

Cutting out the real thing

So many things have become a currency in MMOs, a substitute; a token, an achievement, a note in the database. Why carry keys when the system can just record an achievement. Why have actual treasure to loot when you can take flexible tokens to shops later. Why carry spell ingredients in your bags, why travel somewhere to enter the instance gate, why visit an NPC in the barracks to join a battlegroud. Why indeed?

MMO players play in virtual worlds. And yet, apparently they need to save time. Apparently they need to save space. For what nobody knows exactly. Weren’t many of those things that get called “timesinks” what actually made for our world, our experiences?

The glory of short-cuts

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.” [Robert Frost]

Sliding doors; an intriguing concept. Playing the mind game of “what if” – what if you had taken that other road, where would you be now and who? We’ll never know and most of the time, there won’t be second chances. But I believe that while short-cuts can be handy, they rarely make for the better story. In fact, let’s try an experiment. Or two.

Which one of the two pictures does appeal to you more? Which one sparks your imagination? Where would you rather take a hike?

Your way to treasure: Through that dark wood, down the steep hill. Wait for a boat at the river. Head for the city, convince the guard to let you in. Get some flint and tinder in the shops. Camp close to the distant mountain range. Only a little further from there.

Your way to treasure:
Just follow the road, you can’t miss it.

Same day, different stories

#Day 1a) in an imagined person’s diary –

“I got up this morning and made some pancakes. When I spilled the milk, I discovered my watch lying under the table. I would have looked for that forever… I got the letter you wrote in the morning mail. The pages smelled of you. On the way to work, I bought a newspaper at the kiosk. There was a little boy who kept smiling at me through his huge tooth gap. When I left, he waved at me winking slily. How odd. Because I was musing over that boy, I missed the bus and so I walked to work. On the way I ran into my friend Val. We had a laugh over this new show we’re both watching and he invited me to dinner in the evening. When I arrived at work, the meeting hadn’t started yet. We were still waiting on the secretary which is why I had some time to get another coffee.”

#Day 1b) same imagined person’s diary –

“I got up this morning and ate a pop-tart. Checking my iPhone, I saw your Email, thanks for that. On the way to work, I listened to the news on shout-cast. I noticed there was a traffic jam on the bus lane, good thing I have my car to get to work. When I arrived, the meeting was about to start. The secretary had not arrived yet, but we decided to get going anyway and just include her over voice conference. That’s when I realized my watch was gone.”

On life; real and virtual

Short-cuts are faster, more efficient. Maybe they get us straight to where we want or at least, to where we think we want to be. But they also rob us of opportunities; of the opportunity for life to step in and trigger a chain of events or add something unexpected. Many good things in life, surprises and chance encounters happen while we’re not on plan, not on time. They happen while we’re waiting. They happen on the side of a winding road. They happen because we got distracted and our eyes weren’t fixed on one point in the distance. Maybe “timesinks” are where life really happens.

If we remove all the “unnecessary detours” in games that people consider a nuisance, what exactly are we “saving and optimizing ” that time for? When you arrive faster at treasure and glory, where do you go from there? And just how much have you missed on that shorter journey?

Why you really want attunements. Or: Watch your keys, friend

Unlock meh!
“See that door? It’s locked. I wonder what’s behind it..
See the lock? There must be a key somewhere to fit that particular lock…
There’s probably something worth guarding behind that door if it’s locked like that!
Damn, I really need to find that key now!
Keys – oh boy, my favourite!”

Oh, the suspense!

Attunements, such good memories you and me. That endless questline to get into Onyxia’s Lair, the crumpled up note that just wouldn’t drop in BRD. Countless wipes during countless jailbreaks. Then, getting a rogue to help you through the Shadowforge door. Jumping into the lava to enter the Molten Core for the very first time. You messed that one up alright, Executus.

In the Burning Crusade, you were still quite great. At least for a while. Not even Karazhan came for free and what a great place that was. The countless tears we shed to get Vashj down. The realm PuG I joined (the only time ever) just for a Kael’thas kill before the patch. Gawd, that lovely ring – and hands on the best title. Black Temple…I don’t know how many visits to Akama it took in total. The questline must have been 100 quests long (at least), some of which brought tears to my eyes because we kept wiping like sissies fighting those elites in SMV. All just to see Illidan. And who wouldn’t want that?

Attunements, you gave our guild a direction. You made us teamwork and plan. You gave us time. And long stories with epic moments. The excitement to get there – and everyone could get there in due time if they really cared to.

Then, things kinda changed. I felt sorry for those that came after us. Later, things never were quite the same. No more locks, just open doors. Open doors guard no treasure.

Why attunements were made of win

1) Vorfreude
Maybe you’ve heard the term before. I don’t think there’s an equivalent in English which is rather striking, given the fact that its vocabulary is generally so vast. “Vorfreude”, translated from German, means “the joy of anticipation” – the long wait before a great event, the excitement, the nervousness beforehand which are very often greater and better than the thing itself. Vorfreude is a good feeling: looking forward to something rather than having everything at once, right nao! Instant access to everything, ye I know that’s how the trend has gone in almost every possible way in WoW – but I loved earning my way to attunements, having that distant goal while enjoying content on the way, beating challenges, removing obstacles in my path. I also loved helping guildies to get there.

2) Long, epic questlines
The questlines were often long, with plenty to do on the way. Traveling was a big part, running different instances, picking up different items, talking to all sorts of NPCs. They increased in difficulty until a group was the only way to get further. They were also a great preparation or introduction to what was to come: what the background story and history of the places were, so you understood why you actually went there. I don’t think I ever got more lore from quests than during instance attunements, being as raid-focused as I was. What am I doing here? Who are these people and why are they locked up in chains? Ah, I see.

3) Content progression
A very big factor was that attunements actually timed the way content was consumed. There was a clear path of progression, a sort of dramatic script. Not necessarily in the sense that you could only ever raid one instance at a time, but you could never access everything at once. And while that could stall you, what it really did too was grant guilds time. Less rushing, less stress trying to keep up with omg-everything. More time to prepare the guild because you really had no other choice. A more natural flow of content that would last longer since it was more well-spread. Patience, suspense. Why do people think they must always get everything and at once? Good things take time, anyone?

4) Cooperation
Already mentioned under 1) and 2), the increasing difficulty of quests, frequent group quests or instance runs forced people to teamplay. You needed help to get those elites down for the next step, you needed a party to enter a heroic. The challenges weren’t overly hard but they required cooperation – no going solo for you. And on a bigger scale, guilds would engage in big attunement efforts to get ready for raiding; getting everyone up to par, attuning new members quickly, helping each other with that last step or two of the chain, no matter how often you’d already done it (eugh). I know some guilds moaned about this, but you know what: this kinda stuff is what guilds are there for. That’s WHY people play in guilds. Or used to. Anyway. I realize anything vaguely resembling “guild preparations” is a nuisance these days. 

5) Keys (and other trophies, harrr!)
Last but not least, attunements brought us keys. Keys of all sizes and flavors, shiny keys and rusty ones. Keys made of copper or brass, keys made of bronze or bone. Keys dropped by a keymaster, keys acquired after a long series of quests. Keys that opened huge steel gates or the tiniest locks in a dungeon. Keys that all told a story about where we’ve been and what we have done. Keys jingling merrily on our key ring.
And of course other trophies that we would keep for keep’s sake; like a necklace or cloak that took so much effort to acquire that parting was no option. These were our real trophies, our mementos, our battle scars.

Holding on to your keys

I don’t know what other MMO players want of their games these days. I know that I want adventures. I want challenges that are hard and long and I want to beat them with a group of people I call comrades or friends. I want my rewards to tell stories.

I want keys – and attunements are keys. Keys to open locks. Locks that open doors, doors that lead into a world of adventure. You want to watch out for them, friend; for every good fantasy story has keys in it. It can’t be a good thing if they slowly start disappearing in the sands of time.

Some truths about raid guilds

I love raid guilds. The truth is, had I not plunged into the world of raiding and guild administration so early on in World of Warcraft, I would have never played the game for as long as I did. Social mechanisms intrigue me, their dynamics and politics. Raid guilds are in so many ways perfect reproductions of a “mini-verse”, a complete representation of a society on small scale. I don’t know much of guild structures outside WoW because I’ve never played another MMO to the same extremes and length, but I don’t think the differences can be significant. Guilds are all about how people work: groups of people trying to get along to reach a common goal. Plus a smaller group inside that bigger group, trying to establish some structure and direction. Like small states or companies, they have become very professionalized in their approach, with their recruitment strategies, raid agendas and dedicated departments, from “personnel” to “marketing”…. running a raid guild and playing in one can almost resemble a second job. It shouldn’t feel that way, mind, but in terms of organization there a stark resemblances – after all, why change what works?

There are plenty of raiding blogs and websites out there, run by experienced players and guild leaders, all full of great advice, “do’s and don’ts”, class-/setup-/raiding strategies and whatnot. But they hardly speak of that other side of raid guilds: the intriguing social mechanics that happen behind closed curtains, the sober and cold side of leadership, the calculation and logistics, the unhappy choices and secret dramas that occur. Or in short: the reality of running a raid guild with all the good, bad and ugly. Not the successful stories with shiny heroes and self-sacrificing martyrs, but the less brilliant but necessary work that is being done to keep an enterprise running. And the attitude that goes with it.

Matticus is one of few GMs that come to mind who is a long-time blogger and has, over the course of the years, let his audience take part in less shiny bits and pieces that come with leading a successful raid guild. The reality of guild politics, the need for strict rules, disciplinary action and that constant struggle for balance while trying to be competitive, are things that frequently shine through his articles and guides without much pampering and without silly drama. Beruthiel is another blogger who ponders the less convenient sides of leadership every now and then. In general however, guild leaders and officer teams rarely spell out for you what they put so bluntly in their private meetings – for obvious reasons.

From where I am standing now, I can speak freely without many restrictions; I actually believe that I have done so in the past when I was still a raider, guild founder and healing leader for the raid guilds I have been in. There’s a time for diplomacy and there is a time for blunt truths in guild leading and I’d like to think that I have often been the bearer of inconvenient truths. But some things are easier to spot at a distance now; and some insights grow over time. You become calmer about what might have infuriated and blinded you in the past; less passionate maybe, but more composed. Less afraid to call a spade a spade, too.

I miss that in many articles I am still reading on WoW by raiders and raid leaders – the courage to blunt truths. WoW is such a fantasy world where everyone likes to present himself a little more epic and heroic than he truly is and that’s fine, for that’s what escapism is there for. We have that “idea” of ourselves in MMOs. But I recall many situations where some sober truths on raiding would have gone a long way – maybe even prevented certain struggles I watched unfold before me in the guilds I haven been part of or have seen come and go. Or maybe these are simply the truths that I personally would have wished for a lot sooner. The dispassionate facts that are good to hear for anybody, raider and leader alike so they don’t go down that unhappy road many have gone before them. No matter what raid guild you are in and what position you hold, sooner or later you will face the same situations and crossroads and a lot will depend on your grasp of reality.

Guild leaders all know how it feels to struggle filling raids, to work with lacking setups, to try and recruit along with fifty other guilds. How it feels to update guidelines and sad looking rosters late at night, to write that third and last PM to an unreliable member, to tell a weak raider he needs to improve or go. And raiders (that includes guild leaders) all know the situation to feel better or worse than their team mates, to be frustrated about officer choices and canceled raids, or to look back on a horrible raid week, wondering why they even bother playing the game. We all experience the human feelings, failings and mechanisms that occur when personal dreams and illusions clash with the reality of our guilds. Then, we will whine a little or analyze ourselves vs. “the others”, all the things we do, the things we’d like to have and the things we don’t get despite being our due.

Three truths for raid-/ guildleaders / officers / first ranks

The truth is: you are doing this for yourself. You should be. There will be times when you’re doing all the extra work for yourself more and there will be times when you’re doing a lot of extra shit for others. There will be times when you enjoy it more and times when you don’t. But you choose to do that extra every day when you’re logging on, nobody is making that choice but you. And it’s your responsibility to keep a balance between the two and not burn yourself out. If you do, you have only yourself to blame. Don’t go talking about “I did all of this for you people for little in return”. If you feel like that indeed, you went wrong somewhere and maybe should take a step back or three.

The truth is: you should not expect much appreciation or thank-yous from others. Firstly, they will never know and cannot possibly know how many extra hours of discussing, writing or just thinking things over in bed at night you have done over the guild. So don’t expect them to know. Secondly, you have chosen this path yourself for any combination of reasons, enjoyment, necessity and maybe being a bit of a control-freak too – so, don’t ask the world for a big thanks. Yes, you are doing a lot for your guild, yes you probably keep it running for the moment, maybe even keep it from breaking apart – and from time to time that deserves note and a pat on the shoulder. But you should never forget that you’re investing that much time because you have that much time to invest, whatever the reasons for that may be. A year from now, your life might have changed so considerably that you too will not be able or willing to do it anymore.

The truth is: you Sir or Madam are replaceable. The world won’t end if you quit. Your end and the guild’s end are not one and the same. And if they are indeed, you went wrong somewhere or things are just altogether over. Nobody should shoulder so much that he feels irreplaceable, nobody should have to. And in 9 out of 10 cases you are not. You might think you are because the thought flatters you, but you are not. And maybe it is “your” guild as you did start it all, but it can go on without you, if you actually did a good job in sharing, delegating and building a functional team of officers. You might be surprised at how well your guild picks up without you: how unexpected new people will fill the gap you have left, because your presence does not take up all that space any more. Yes, maybe your guild won’t be the same guild after you, most likely it won’t – but it will go down a new path and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe it’s even something you can watch with pride.

Three truths for raiders (=everyone)

The truth is: raid guilds are a contract. Raid guilds are a deal. And if you are or become a constant burden and liability to your team mates at some point, for whatever reason from attendance to performance, you should have the grace to quit. If you join a raid guild, you sign a contract: the guild offers you something, you offer something in return. You are bound to fulfill this. And while you might be a great guy or fun gal and have a wonderful personality, what your guild is looking for first and foremost are raiders to reinforce their team. They want to kill bosses, they want to progress, they want to loot. They will want these things today and tomorrow. And it’s cool if you can help with all that and be a character too; but if a character is all you are, you are putting your mates and officers in a constant dilemma they shouldn’t have to be in. They should not have to choose between you the nice guy and you the raider they must carry. And no, it doesn’t matter if you have good reasons to suck or not, you probably do but that’s beside the point. Save your guild from unhappy compromise and choices by doing the right thing yourself. Leave, for god’s sake, find a more suitable guild – there are so many out there. Also, there is no shame in quitting. Alternatively, go inactive/veteran or whatever boon your guild might grant you as a way out.

The truth is: if you have never formed and/or lead a raid guild yourself, you will never know how much extra time and work your guild leaders put into the game, what pressure they shoulder at times and what secret dramas and screwups they deal with that you will never hear about. Maybe you have some past experiences at leading a raid or heroics, maybe you’ve even been an officer in some casual guild – still, this applies to you: you will never know how much extra time and work your guild leaders put into leading a successful raid guild long-term. And for that you don’t owe them eternal gratefulness, but it wouldn’t hurt at all to remember this every now and then, when you go to sleep at night looking forward to the next raidweek with all the blissful ignorance that one enjoys who is not in charge. It wouldn’t hurt to take some note and have some respect and trust in those that keep organizing things. This is what you really do owe them if nothing else.

The truth is: you are a big fish in a small pond. Yes, really. You’re not the greatest player in this world, of your class, on your server – chances are, you’re not even the best player in your guild. And if you are or feel you are, there are many explanations of why that may be – be it that your competition is rather busy, pitiful or your head simply too big to perceive your own flaws. No matter in what guild you play and on which server, 99% of the time your “guild fame”, your class pride or personal e-peen has the significance of a dust speck. Feel free to check the world’s guild ladders sometime. Yet, should you still feel your greatness is shamefully wasted on your peers, the best advice I have for you is to leave. Don’t make your guild miserable for not meeting your expectations, go and test yourself against other waters and see if the grass is truly so much greener on the other side of the fence. You might get surprised. Either way, it’s not just better for you but a whole deal better for your current guild too, if you hit the road. While progress drive is a fine thing, nobody needs jerks around that have clearly missed their bus stop.

Addendum

These “truths” are very simply based on personal experiences I’ve made through the years in WoW, difficult people or situations I have had to deal with as a raider and guild leader. They’re my insights, based on mistakes I have made myself or seen others make – traps we can easily fall into or see others step into without the ability to prevent it, that worst of feelings. They might be humbling points too, smashing an illusion or two; and while nobody enjoys such feelings (much), I think this applies to any given (competitive) raid guild and is good to realize for yourself and at times necessary to point out to others. May be it offers a more sober and realistic perspective on some things, one that will help you not to lose the ground beneath your feet. Maybe it can even be liberating.

At the very least, it can put your momentary struggles into perspective. You see, you are not alone. I realize that these are not the sort of rosy red and comfy truths people like to talk about in public, the ones that make you feel fuzzy about yourself or raiding; but they’re the sort of points I often wished people had considered before they joined our own guild (which I might want to add, was a very tolerant place considering its progress orientation) or had been pointed out more often when necessary. I still have the firm belief that in the long run a transparent and honest way of dealing with the reality of raiding will make your guild leaders and raiders a more down to earth, streamlined and humble group of people. And ultimately a more successful team.

Globalization is killing MMOs

Sounds weird? I have to agree.

BUT…

I happened to read a rather interesting article in the Spiegel magazine tonight which is no, not the Mirror people read in the UK, but happens to have the same name if you care to translate it. It’s the only piece of print news I read regularly, mostly because they spend humongous amounts of time on thorough background investigation and are dedicated to a kind of independent journalism that is rare to find these days. Also, I love reading more than ten pages on the same subject.

Anyway, I came across this long interview with the ex-chief publisher of the Vogue and shockingly enough started to read, although the whole fashion biz is one of those things I am not interested in in the slightest. But I like interviews on people’s lives; they tend to present different perspectives that we’d otherwise never brush in our own life. Also, my bathwater was still warm and fuzzy and I had no more articles to read otherwise.

Riiiight….it appears that Miss Roitfeld was chief publisher and a designer for the Vogue for 10 years and had a blast. For the most part. Not so much during the second half. Less and less towards the end. A lot is currently changing in the world of haute couture, less freedom and more pressure, which is why the lady decided to quit and kiss the Vogue goodbye. Here is an English extract from that interview:

Roitfeld: For 10 years, it was a hell of a lot of fun. But, toward the end, it unfortunately got less and less fun. You used to be able to be more playful, but now it’s all about money, results and big business. The prêt-à-porter shows have become terribly serious. The atmosphere isn’t as electric as it once was, and they now have about as much charm as a medical conference. But it takes just one good fashion show to get things exciting again.
SPIEGEL: If fashion can tell us anything about the age it’s created in, what do you think current fashions tell us?
Roitfeld: Today’s fashions don’t let people dream as much as they used to. Twenty years ago, fashion was a promise – something that was part of your life and perhaps enriched it, something that reflected a particular era. If you look at advertisements these days, all you see are handbags. They aren’t about dreams anymore; customers are buying objects now, not dreams.
SPIEGEL: Is that why you left Vogue in January?
Roitfeld: Ten years is a long time – and especially 10 years in a gilded cage. They were wonderful years; but, sooner or later, birds want their freedom again.
SPIEGEL: Your French publisher said the time for being provocative and trashy was over.
Roitfeld: I’d put it this way: Fashion needs glamour, provocation and broken taboos.
SPIEGEL: Was it your decision to go?
Roitfeld: Absolutely. And at the perfect moment. The French edition of Vogue had never been more successful, had never had more readers or advertisers. And it had never made as much money. For 10 years, my American publisher, Jonathan Newhouse, let me do what I wanted, even when he thought it might be crazy. But it couldn’t have gone on for much longer.
SPIEGEL: Is this the end of era?
Roitfeld: Creativity needs space and a willingness to take risks, but businessmen don’t like risk. What’s more, designers are coming under more and more pressure. Today, a dress can’t just please the women in Paris; it also has to please those in Beijing, Tokyo, Moscow and New York.
SPIEGEL: Is globalization making fashion more boring?
Roitfeld: At the very least, it’s leading to a lot of compromise. But globalization is only one factor. Today’s designers no longer have to create two collections a year; they have to create four: spring, summer, fall and winter. And some fashion studios also add haute couture twice a year. Who can possibly manage all that? Good designers are artists; they’re fragile people. [Source]

Ring any bells? If not, try the following experiment: substitute all the words highlighted in red with the following replacement words:

Prêt-à-porter shows = PR/game conventions, fashion = games/MMOs, handbags = item rewards, Vogue = Blizzard, French publisher = investor / Activision, Jonathan Newhouse = Michael Morhaime, dress = game, women = gamers, collections = content patches, haute couture = major content patches / special promotions.

And then let’s assume Roitfeld = Ghostcrawler. Maybe few years from now. Or let’s assume he joined Blizzard in 2004 and this is 2014. In any case you get the point.

The point of all this being…

The point is: it’s happening everywhere. Grey suits calling the shots. Grey suits finding their way into anything that has grown a little successful on its own through genius, vision and hard work. Investment, bigger business. You pay, you have more say. Even if you really shouldn’t. Roitfeld is just one example of when the world of art clashes with the world of more money.

The globalization claim is rather interesting in this context; after all MMOs live of being online and global. At the same time, the point the interview makes still applies: there’s a huge pressure today to please all markets world-wide, every type of audience, every type of player, maybe even on several platforms. Catering to all of that with the same game is a monstrous attempt that matters zero to the individual player. The pressure to produce (quantity) on game designers is high, the freedom restricted by so many demands. Risk taking is a big no-no. Cloning WoW is boring but safe(r). When it comes to business, globalization is just another word for capitalism.

And MMOs are business.

The things we miss

It’s a brilliant Friday, almost too brilliant to be working. The morning started rather late for me, as the local public transport is on strike (kinda) and so I spent much longer than usual waiting on buses and trams, enjoying the morning sun. Then, opening our guildforum page which I still keep an eye on, retired or not, a thread put a smile on my face, reminding me of the fun we’ve had together in days past. In fact it had me choking with laughter, so strong and silly was the memory that probably only those can understand who share it with me.

The things we miss

The other night, Stumps mentioned to me that it’s quite a long time now since I left WoW, but then I realized it’s actually roughly 4 months since leaving Syl behind at that lakeside in Elwynn Forest. Four months are not a long time, but I have to agree it feels long, much longer than that. I’ve always asked myself what it really is that keeps people playing a game like World of Warcraft for so long – the state of the game, or the community established, and where the boundaries lie between playing a game for yourself and playing it “for other people”.

I never quite found the ultimate answer for myself or rather, for me it’s always been about balance. I know that many of today’s WoW players hang in there for their guilds more than for the game. And I think to some extent that happens for everyone that has established a place for himself, spent years among the same bunch of people and shared countless adventures together. Community is a big factor and sometimes that’s all you need.

At the same time, we all start a game solo; because we like MMOs, because the game seems appealing, because we’re curious and everyone’s talking about it. At those early stages, it’s all about the game. If it doesn’t convince us, we’ll most likely quit. Later, quitting will never be as easy again as it is during that initial “solo period”. There are ties now and fun generated through and by other people, rather than just a developer’s script.
There are also: shared memories that have the power to carry players through “periods of doubt”. It’s the dynamic MMOs capitalize of. It’s quite the struggle too for those feeling they should leave the game but are torn by conflicting emotions.

In the end it’s about what you’re looking for in these games and that’s never the same for each person. It can also change a great deal over time. For me, the balance needs to be there, I play for myself and feel it should always be like that. On the other hand, a bunch of trusted mates are what make a good game not just enjoyable, but make it a great deal more. Without them, things are just not the same. I told those who asked me that I haven’t looked back once since leaving and it’s true; I’ve never had regrets playing WoW and I haven’t had regrets quitting. I haven’t missed my character nor raiding (backpains) for a single day. That simply tells me one thing: that it was the right time and right decision. And to be fair, I think I’ve played the game for way too long to miss any of these things, I haven’t missed out on anything in WoW.

Yet, there are things I can miss, or rather things that make me feel fuzzy inside and nostalgic; they’re locked in funny screenshots and moments remembered. They’re all about the people that were with me when I was still playing and having fun in WoW. I know that if we all went back right now, we still couldn’t bring back those times – for those times, were those times. But the shared knowledge and memory of them is a very fond one and it shows me why I really played the game for as long as I could and what really set it apart from others.

And that will always be true and never fade, locked in the eternal snowglobe of our memories. Mine has a place in the sun and everytime I go there and shake it, the gold flakes inside will dance and glitter as if no time had passed at all. In a way there is great comfort in knowing that nothing can touch the past and some things are preserved forever.

A good weekend to all of you – especially old friends, guildmates and brothers in arms.

The beast that wrecked wonderland. Or: Oh noes, I’m an RPer?

The blogosphere is loaded on fundamental design questions and debates lately and it’s not just events like Blizzard’s most recent Call to Arms announcement that make us wonder about where the future of MMOs lies. The more I’m reading, the more I realize how conservative I am – and how I really hopped off the bandwagon somewhere around the Burning Crusade. Very few game design changes have actually appealed to me since then. Maybe I’m just not the average MMO gamer anymore. Maybe I have become too “oldschool” for this genre.

Scrap that “maybe”.

I’ve tried to put a finger on this sentiment lately, but I couldn’t quite find the right word. This recent post by Green Armadillo is a great example of the overall problem though: I really do resent the fact that dungeons have become a synonym for lootbags in MMOs. That is SO far apart from what dungeons used to stand for, game designers might as well stop putting any effort into dungeon design if drops are all that matters. And now, as if loot, gold and tokens weren’t enough, you even have to bribe people further to play cooperatively in there. Sic transit gloria mundi?

That’s just the tip of the iceberg which fast-food, drive-thru MMOs are developing into, with their dungeon finders, achievement points, welfare loot and in-built quest helpers. Big fat red arrows across your fantasy world. Flashy text hovering over your stupid head. Min-maxing guides for teh win.

All the things I want are almost completely opposed to the current trend: no quest helper, no maps, no fast leveling, no soloing major content, no anonymous grouping, no welfare loot, no cookie-cutters, no bottomless bags, no epeen titles and silly achievement points. Instead, more need to cooperate. More need to play intelligently. More consequences when not playing cooperatively or intelligently. More customization. Lore rather than loot. More need to travel without an instant map. More wetting your pants on the way. Proper outdoor PvP. Less linearity and more player-generated content. Player housing. More campfires. A bag-pack with bandages you actually use.

And then it dawns on me, the inevitable conclusion: my wish-list strongly resembles the 100+ pages long RPer’s wishlist that was up on Blizzard’s official RP forums a few years ago, a collection on how to improve the game for roleplaying (unfortunately that topic is long gone). Is to wish for these things, to be an RPer in today’s post-WoW MMO world?

I’m not an RPer in the strict sense. I do play role-playing games, but I’ve always played on PVE servers. I cringe a little at the whole “in character”-stuff some people really take to extremes on dedicated servers. On the other hand, I’ve absolutely no problem with players who enjoy their MMOs that way, it’s just not my cup of coffee to make up a past history for my character, attend ingame weddings or talk in Shakespearean English. But when it comes to everything else that adds atmosphere to fantasy worlds, yes I do want that. It’s been there before.

So, am I an RPer now? A traditionalist? How do you call MMO players like me today? And is it really me who needs a new name?

But finally, I realized what this whole mess is called that’s currently happening to the genre (thank you Spinks): the beast that’s wrecking wonderland is called “Gamification”. It’s been going on a lot more rapidly on consoles ever since the XBOX went live and now it’s made its way into PC MMOs too. And I really shouldn’t be surprised: just the way traditional RPGs have become a rarity on console ever since, the classic MMORPG is doomed to disappear. I never realized the parallels in such clarity. MMOs might be part of the world of games, but they never played by the same rules, their virtues were always of a different kind. They were virtual worlds; not linear, scripted scenarios with the goal of instant gratification, stilling players’ achievement hunger and collection drive whenever they please. Those games were about setting, narrative, simulation and cooperative longterm goals. But there’s a whole new mentality out there today, a new type of gamer walking down my virtual streets. A gamer with different values than me.

And I’m fine with it, really – you can collect achievements ’til kingdom come for all I care. But if game studios start developing more and more MMOs for you rather than me, then I have a problem.

And no, I don’t want to start playing MUDs or write fanfiction.

The spirits that I called

From the spirits that I called,
Sir, deliver me!

“Back now, broom,
into the closet!
Be thou as thou
wert before!
Until I, the real master
call thee forth to serve once more!”

When reading Tessy’s final blog post last night, I was instantly reminded of this famous poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”. Goethe is to German literature, what Shakespeare is to English and so back in school we would naturally read and analyze this formidable piece of literature quite meticulously – and years later, when standing in front of my own students teaching German classes, I was happy to return the favour (muaha). While Goethe’s work is probably not widely known in an English speaking society, that particular poem is definitely a well-known one and that’s not just thanks to adaptions like Disney’s Fantasia opening.

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice has a very simple message even the youngest can understand: be careful what you wish for – and: don’t go behind the back of your superiors (the part I will shamelessy ignore in this article…I think). While his master is away, the spiteful apprentice dabbles at forces of magic he cannot yet understand or control and as a consequence, creates utter chaos in his study, nearly being drowned to death in the process. That’s what the poem’s most famous citation stands for, having become a frequently used proverb in the German language: “die Geister, die ich rief, die werd’ ich nicht mehr los” – which literally translates into “the spirits that I called, I can lose no more”.

In her goodbye post, Tessy draws another analogy from fairy tales she enjoyed as child, to explain why World of Warcraft is slowly but surely losing its shine for her. She says “All the bumps in the roads have been smoothed out and all the detours have been made unnecessary” and concludes later: “I’m not saying the game has become too easy – I just think it has become a bit too smooth.“

And that conclusion is only an arm’s reach away from a rather ranty article I wrote some time ago, when starting off with this little blog, complaining about the decreasing difficulty level in WoW and how it can kill what makes adventure come alive to many (not all) MMORPG players. It’s a natural law: challenge and sense of achievement go together. To take away the first, is to take away the second. To overcome challenges and hardship together fills us with a sense of heroic satisfaction and enjoyment we can never get by other, more forgiving means. A rep or daily quest grind can never be a challenge in the same way, much rather than being a test of your mathematical skills – it’s all a matter of time and easy enough to calculate. Well, another matter of time is when removing all the pebbles on the road will start vexing players.

I’m not speaking of painful gameplay and mind-numbing, idle tasks and downtimes here by the way; I don’t actually believe in the virtue of suffering. I do however believe in a balance between challenging and rewarding game features. To define “challenge” in online games is obviously another can of worms, but for simplicity’s sake let’s just assume that we all want to run and scream in terror every once in a while.

Are the whiners always the same people?

The missing link between Tessy’s observation and Goethe’s poem is of course this: a playerbase wishing for changes long enough and whining about anything that makes the game a little hard / unfair / unsatisfactory to them in a particular moment in time, might end up with exactly what they wish for (given the master’s willingness to listen). And before knowing it, they have spoiled all aspects that made the game fun to them in the first place. You know, a little bit like lovers who over the course of their relationship attempt to change one another, until one day they wake up beside a completely different person – one they don’t recognize and don’t love anymore.

MMOs, like other real or virtual worlds, are rather delicate works of design; to meddle with balance, fixing a little here and there and changing things on one end and not the other, can easily cause disaster. I’d never claim that Blizzard didn’t do substantial amounts of calculation and testing in their re-balancing and patching acts, of course they do – but every change, no matter how small, actually changes something. And very often, players do not actually know what they want: they think they do, but they should really leave it to those who know better (y’know, those who do this shit for a living). Because the thing that players will not and cannot consider (and apparently some devs can’t either or will ignore), are long-term consequences. You might not see the greater picture when you complain about classes not having enough solo-ability (and then, in a year’s time, complain about all classes being way too similar); for short-term and long-term change are quite an unhappy couple in MMOs.

How many times have we not witnessed class or content difficulty whining in WoW’s official forums, only to read a diametrically opposed echo of said whining a year down the road? Really, this is erm….what you asked for? Now you figure, huh? But then, there’s really no way of keeping the whiny voices on any gameforum apart: they might sound exactly the same, but how can you tell they go back to the same people? (No, I don’t feel inclined to track nicknames.)

Which is something justly pointed out to me by Chastity of Righteous Orbs, a few months back when he wrote an article on linearity in WoW and how he didn’t enjoy all the cut-scenes during Cataclysm’s quest lines. Personally, I felt the short ingame movies were a brilliant addition to the game, making quests and lore feel more immersive. It’s certainly been a common complaint among WoW players for years that the game really lacked this sort of player inclusion (the way you find yourself inside the clips with Harrison Jones for example). But there you go: “among WoW players” – which ones exactly? The ones screaming loudest on the forums at the time? The ones simply louder than those who didn’t wish for ingame movies (and therefore had no reason to speak up before)?

When we hear “the players”, “the PVPers”, “the druids” (loads of’em…) moan on gaming boards, we don’t actually know who they are. We don’t know which players were whining before and we don’t know which players whine later (after change happened). All we know, really, is that there will be whining. Ample empiric evidence has been given!

Yet, maybe they exist? Those players that did ask for XY in the past and only later realize the gravity of their wish? Players who cry for buffs on today’s forums and then cry the same be nerfed later, in an even louder voice because hindsight is such a beautiful thing? Are there any sorcerer’s apprentices in today’s WoW community or is it always different people?

I’ve no clue, I’m usually rather consistent in my whining (and I avoid official forums like rabies – way too many whiny hybrids around). But if the waters are rising all around me because the apprentice is messing with his absent(-minded) master’s work, there’s one hope I cling to – that it’s all just a story in a book and everything will be fine in the end. Alternatively, I’ll grab another book if the old one got wet beyond repair. Yep, I can always do that.