Living a Virtual Life Is World of Warcraft a game, or is it a harbinger of virtual realities that we all might inhabit? Only a Night Elf knows for sure.
By Steven Levy
Newsweek
Sept. 18, 2006 issue - Two years into the history of World of Warcraft—an online game that accommodates 7 million players around the world—no one had successfully ventured into the dungeon to slay a group of computer-generated villains known as the Four Horsemen. But four experienced "guilds" of players—one in Europe, two in America and one in China—were coming close, posting updates on separate Web sites they maintained. Finally, a 40-person contingent from a U.S. guild conquered the last beast—and its members became instant international celebrities in a massive community where dragons and Druids are as real as dirt.
In the physical world we vainly scrounge for glory. Bin Laden still taunts us, the bus doors close before we reach them and leave us standing in the rain. But in the fantasy realm of Azeroth, the virtual geography of World of Warcraft, the physical pain comes only from hitting a keyboard too hard, camaraderie is the norm and heroism is never far away. In simple terms, Warcraft is the most advanced and popular entry in a genre called Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games, or MMO. "I call it the Technicolor, Americanized version of 'Lord of the Rings'," says Chris Metzen, VP of creative development for the game's maker, Blizzard Software. But for millions it is more than a game—it's an escape, an obsession and a home.
Engaging in this orgy of sword-swiping, spell-casting and monster-slaying generally involves a $50 purchase of the software and a monthly $15 fee thereafter to play online. Players in Asia—a clear majority of the WOW population, despite the fact that the game was created by digital dudes in Irvine, Calif.—buy cards that allow them WOW time for a few cents an hour. Then there's the merchandising: T shirts, jackets, hats, a nondigital (!) board game. In China, 600 million Coke cans were festooned with WOW figures. There are seven novels based on Warcraft lore. And Blizzard recently inked a movie deal with the studio that produced "Superman Returns." Games-industry analyst David Cole estimates that Blizzard (part of Vivendi) has made more than $300 million from the game so far. Blizzard COO Paul Sams says only, "We are an incredibly profitable company."
What distinguishes Warcraft from previous blockbuster games is its immersive nature and compelling social dynamics. It's a rich, persistent alternative world, a medieval Matrix with lush graphics and even a seductive soundtrack (Blizzard has two full-time in-house composers). Blizzard improved on previous MMOs like Sony's Everquest by cleverly crafting its game so that newbies could build up characters at their own pace, shielded from predators who would casually "gank" them—while experienced players continually face more and more daunting challenges. The company mantra, says lead designer Rob Pardo, is "easy to learn, difficult to master." After months of play, when you reach the ultimate level (60), you join with other players for intricately planned raids on dungeons, or engage in massive rumbles against other guilds.
"Ninety percent of what I do is never finished—parenting, teaching, doing the laundry," says Elizabeth Lawley (Level 60, Troll Priest), a Rochester, N.Y., college professor. "In WOW, I can cross things off a list—I've finished a quest, I've reached a new level."
Like many WOW players, Lawley is active in a guild. Some of the high-ranking guilds, like the one formed by noted Japanese venture capitalist Joi Ito (Level 60, Gnome Mage), are mini-societies with their own Web sites, online forums and private lore. First Ito invited people he knew professionally, like Ross Mayfield (Level 60, Human Palladin), CEO of an Internet company on whose board Ito sits. "Warcraft is the new golf," says Mayfield. "I actually closed a deal with a company I met through WOW." But as Ito met others in WOW, the roster diversified. There is a priest whose character is ... a priest. There are soldiers, bartenders, truckdrivers, lawyers and Goggle engineers. The guild's "raid leader"—who organizes the twice-weekly ventures into the feared Molten Core to slay the powerful "boss mob" monsters—is Jamie Ray (Level 60, Night Elf Druid), a night-shift nurse in Parkersburg, W.Va.
Though WOW is a fantasy world, the interaction between guilds and individuals relies on human choices and morals. The first thing one does when joining the game is to choose an avatar from one of eight "races," split between two factions: the human-looking Alliance and the more bestial Horde. Edward Castronova (Level 42, Priest), an Indiana U professor and author of "Synthetic Worlds," once roiled the WOW community by a blog posting entitled "The Horde Is Evil," in which he charged that only the antisocial at heart would pick that darker side. Castronova believes that if someone behaves badly in the game—an example would be the WOW equivalent of spree killing, where someone ganks a character of a much lower level, just for the hell of it—that person should be judged harshly in the real world as well.
Another example of questionable behavior is viewable in a video that more than 80,000 people have accessed on YouTube. When one guild member died (in real life, not Azeroth), his grieving friends decided to hold a funeral for him inside the game. The solemn affair was disrupted when a rival guild burst upon the unarmed mourners and slaughtered them mercilessly. "It's unfortunate that someone would do that to people trying to honor one of their guild members," says Mike Morhaime, Blizzard's president. Another event that bothered Blizzard's management was an in-game protest march, when hundreds of naked Gnomes gathered to call for more powers.
Generally, though, players of the game enjoy a form of com-ity rarely seen in the real world; higher-level players go out of their way to tutor newbies and accompany them on quests. Deep friendships are forged. Relationships begin that flower into marriage, with Tauren brides and Undead grooms tying the knot in some virtual tavern in Thunder Bluff.
Warcraft even has its own economy, as the gold and exotic armor and weaponry that players accumulate are much coveted in trade. Despite the opposition of Blizzard (which thinks that using real money to gain an edge in the game violates WOW's egalitarian spirit), a thriving industry makes tons of real dollars by "gold farming" (accumulating in-game currency and selling it) or "power leveling" (borrowing someone's avatar and grinding through the game to gain experience). Most of the manpower is supplied by Chinese workers like Zhang Hanbin (Level 60, Rogue), a 24-year-old dropout who works in a grim apartment-cum-sweatshop in the provincial town of Wuxue. An eight-hour day collecting game loot can yield 100 gold pieces, worth about $30 on the black market.
Are you getting the idea that "Warcrack" (as some call it) eats up a lot of time? "Of all the games that my [addictive] clients are involved with, World of Warcraft is the most popular," says clinical psychologist Kimberly Young. Mostly, trouble comes in the form of kids who fall asleep in class, and furious spouses. "My girlfriend—who actually bought me the game—was ready to kill me," says Alex Rascovar (Level 60, Gnome Mage), a New York City actor who often binged with eight-hour sessions before he went cold turkey a few months ago. There are parental controls available, but most parents haven't a clue. (Only when embarking on this story did yours truly learn that his son [Level 60, Troll Shaman] had hit the level cap in WOW.)
In China, a competitive society where real life is becoming as freaky as anything you'd find in Azeroth, players seem even more prone to go overboard. According to the Xinhua News Agency, one girl died of exhaustion after playing WOW for several days without a break.
Even those who dropped out will be tempted to return later this year when Blizzard releases its long-awaited update The Burning Crusade. The key features include two new races, a new continent to explore and an increase in the level cap from 60 to 70. Hundreds of thousands will jam the WOW servers until they once again reach the peak.
Edward Castronova sees all this as an early indicator of what will become a vast participation in synthetic worlds, with fuzzier and fuzzier lines between virtual and physical realms. "In 20 or 30 years the technology will be here to create incredibly more realistic and immersive worlds," he says. "There will be a world that fits the fantasy of any life you want to lead." Those deep into WOW, of course, are already living that future. "Yes, it's just a game," says Joi Ito. "The way that the real world is a game."
With Melinda Liu in China and N'gai Croal and Peg Tyre in New York
Ignie Ferroque translates from latin to "with fire & with sword." It is a stock phrase used to describe the results of a destructive raid into an enemy's territory, whose sole purpose is to generate fear, terror, and destruction.
por‧tent  /ˈpÉ”rtÉ›nt, ˈpoÊ*r-/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[pawr-tent, pohr-] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. an indication or omen of something about to happen, esp. something momentous.
2. threatening or disquieting significance: an occurrence of dire portent.
3. a prodigy or marvel.
Second thing:
Originally Posted by Igni
Another example of questionable behavior is viewable in a video that more than 80,000 people have accessed on YouTube. When one guild member died (in real life, not Azeroth), his grieving friends decided to hold a funeral for him inside the game. The solemn affair was disrupted when a rival guild burst upon the unarmed mourners and slaughtered them mercilessly. "It's unfortunate that someone would do that to people trying to honor one of their guild members," says Mike Morhaime, Blizzard's president. Another event that bothered Blizzard's management was an in-game protest march, when hundreds of naked Gnomes gathered to call for more powers.
Paragraphs like this are virtually internet gold...
As for WoW being the new golf... give me a break. Trump doesn't galavant through molten core on his off days. I can't even imagine how that meeting woudl go. So, wanna talk about this merger? Sure, lets meet at the ragefire chasm meeting stone on Kil'Jaeden at 6pm just before my raid... "Get out of my office."
As for WoW being the new golf... give me a break. Trump doesn't galavant through molten core on his off days. I can't even imagine how that meeting woudl go. So, wanna talk about this merger? Sure, lets meet at the ragefire chasm meeting stone on Kil'Jaeden at 6pm just before my raid... "Get out of my office."
:lol:
"Damn, did you need that item?"
"You're fired."
To be honest, I've always maintained the belief that if they make a game that is any more addictive than WoW, it should be banned. Many of the guys in my guild treat it like a band, or a football team - a hobby that requires that little bit extra dedication and commitment, but returns on friendships and releases from the every day grind (ironically enough). But everyone has school, or work, or family that they take care of at the same time, and I don't think any of them have doubts as to which comes first. If a game were to arrive that sought to immerse people any further into a gaming lifestyle that can so easily conflict with real life, I have to wonder what sort of people would still want to play it.
Like another poster on these boards pointed out in the thread about the NY Times article, these types of articles seem to be saying nothing more than, "Hey, WoW exists and I guess it's pretty popular."
I'd like to see someone write about this game who has obviously played it, not just been told about it. I keep getting the impression that these journalists are approaching the game with a pair of rubber gloves and a magnifying glass. It feels like the journalist who wrote the article thinks that hitting level 60 is some kind of rigorous feat of dogged persistence.
Also, I could see people actually making business contacts through WoW, but chances are the people who are making them would either be in professions related to technology (ex: Joi Ito as featured in the article) or related to gaming or fantasy. The Waltons aren't going to hire companies that force three year old chinese boys to make $.50 curtains for two pennies through WoW, J Allard isn't going to manage the acquisition of a new game development company through WoW, lawyers won't meet with clients or associates through WoW, etc.
As for WoW being the new golf... give me a break. Trump doesn't galavant through molten core on his off days. I can't even imagine how that meeting woudl go. So, wanna talk about this merger? Sure, lets meet at the ragefire chasm meeting stone on Kil'Jaeden at 6pm just before my raid... "Get out of my office."
:lol:
"Damn, did you need that item?"
"You're fired."
To be honest, I've always maintained the belief that if they make a game that is any more addictive than WoW, it should be banned. Many of the guys in my guild treat it like a band, or a football team - a hobby that requires that little bit extra dedication and commitment, but returns on friendships and releases from the every day grind (ironically enough). But everyone has school, or work, or family that they take care of at the same time, and I don't think any of them have doubts as to which comes first. If a game were to arrive that sought to immerse people any further into a gaming lifestyle that can so easily conflict with real life, I have to wonder what sort of people would still want to play it.
Us. Hate to break it to you, but the personality type of "raider", or "hardcore gamer" would probably be the most likely to further immerse themselves. WoW is actually lighter on time sinkage then say, EQ or FF, so we should be able to easily compare. I'd also posit that the theoretical "danger" age group would be the early to mid- teens, whereas once you reach your 20s there is more of life to deal with in general.
I was still haunting Terra Nova when Ed Castranova posted that junk blog over a year ago. I thought it was sensationalism then, and if you check the comments in their archives you can see how much flak he got from the pseudo-cyber-intelligentsia floating around that site.
Like another poster on these boards pointed out in the thread about the NY Times article, these types of articles seem to be saying nothing more than, "Hey, WoW exists and I guess it's pretty popular."
Here's the most interesting mainstream MMO article I've read. It's from Wired 6.05 (1998). At the time, I don't think I had any idea what UO was.
Originally Posted by Killers Have More Fun - By Amy Jo Kim
Games like Ultima Online are grand social experiments in community building. There's just one little problem.
Tonight, like every night for the past eight months, tens of thousands of players will log on to Britannia, a fictional online universe. They'll come to embroider upon make-believe lives as healers, fighters, mages, and rogues. And they'll stay - up to four hours each - because of the seductive quality of pure immersion. Zooming in from around the world, this nightly legion has made Origin's Ultima Online the fastest-growing networked game in the genre's short history. Despite formidable hardware requirements, a steep learning curve, and wildly mixed reviews, more than 100,000 copies of UO were sold in its first three months.
So what's going on here? Something out of the ordinary, beginning with the sheer dimensions of the playing field. UO is massive: Each of its 10 servers can hold 2,500 simultaneous players. (In contrast, the graphical chat environment PalaceServer can support 1,000 users in one location at the same time, and id Software's famed Quake II can handle only 200 players.) As demand grows, Origin can launch new "shards" - servers holding parallel worlds - to support even more players.On some nights, more than 14,000 players are logged on at once. More than half of them log on every day.
Ultima Online is not the first multiplayer networked role-playing game - an honor generally given to Diabloor Meridian 59. And other developers have since leaped into the multiplayer arena. With impressive visuals and a true 3-D engine, Sony's upcoming EverQuestis widely expected to give UO a run for its money. A similar game, Asheron's Call,will enjoy the benefit of Microsoft's marketing muscle. A buzz is building around Kaon Interactive's Terra: Battle for the Outland,developed by former BBN employees including Albert Stevens and Joshua Smith, who created military-training sims for the Department of Defense. 10six,due out this summer, raises the stakes even further, with a virtual economy based on real dollars and hosting up to 1 million players at a time.
UO, for its part, was introduced last September with a blockbuster marketing campaign of Hollywood proportions. And the game delivers the visual goods. The towns, forests, and dungeons of Britannia are more than just intricately rendered; details are meaningful - you can pick up and read a book on the library shelf or play a game of checkers in the tavern. The people and creatures are charmingly animated; sound effects and music cues are used sparingly yet effectively. You hear hoofbeats as you watch three knights ride by on horseback, their capes flowing in the breeze, followed by a lumbering bear and a bedraggled dog.
Equally important, Ultima Online's territories are the most expansive yet in the online gaming world. Britannia occupies some 32,000 screens, with 15 major cities, 9 shrines, 7 dungeons, and vast stretches of uncharted wilderness. As more and more players put down roots, the landscape in each of the parallel Britannias changes accordingly. A citizen of this vast land, meanwhile, is born naked and accumulates clothing and possessions, whether by making, buying, or stealing them. With practice, players become progressively more powerful and skillful - and it's reflected in their outfits. Indeed, seniority and in-game savvy is expressed in an immediate, graphic way: The clothes make the man or woman. The visual correspondence between what things look like and what they can do is exhilarating.
And let us not forget Britannia's emergent economy, another distinctive characteristic and the source of an extraordinary amount of strategizing, not to mention wardrobe acquiring, day in and day out. Players can develop many skills and myriad ways to exploit them for cash. The result - a community that rewards obsessive dedication and reveals inner characteristics through worldly trappings in hyperreal-time - is something compelling. In fact, it's nearly irresistible.
So what's the problem? A few weeks after UO's release, a player named Mohdri Dragon initiated one of the game's first public displays of civil disobedience, to call attention to Origin's lax response to numerous unfixed bugs while it built new features. Hundreds of players gathered together in the capital, stripped their characters naked, and stormed the castle of Lord British - aka Richard Garriott, the real-life creator of the Ultima series. Once inside the castle, the players drank themselves silly, trashed Lord British's throne room, and protested loudly, much to the amusement and consternation of the game's developers. "Everyone had a strong opinion, and many players were expressing opposite sides of the same issue," says Lord British, who watched the event from behind an invisible cloak. The players, in other words, started to behave like citizens anywhere.
But the true dilemma goes way beyond the bugs. Johnny Wilson, a huge fan of the Ultima series from which UO springs, sees role-playing games as interactive ethical parables. "The best Ultima games made people realize that there were consequences to their actions," he says, "and that life is not black-and-white." A deceptively jolly person with a disarming manner and a nose for bullshit, Wilson is editor in chief of Computer Gaming Worldand a recovering biblical scholar with a PhD in Old Testament studies. He went into gaming believing that "role-playing games will be the true religion of the 21st century."
Now, Wilson resorts to the classics to express his deep unhappiness with UO: "Ultima Online begins with hubris and ends in Greek tragedy. The hubris is a result of being unwilling to learn from others' mistakes. The tragedy is that it could have been so much more."
What he means is that the people behind UO neglected, in their obsession with realism, to create a meaningful moral experience for players - dramatic story lines or quests guided by noble purposes or even a system of civic rewards. There's no shortage of realism in this game - the trouble is, many of the nonviolent activities in UO are realistic to the point of numbingly lifelike boredom: If you choose to be a tailor, you can make a passable living at it, but only after untold hours of repetitive sewing. And there's no moral incentive for choosing tailoring - or any honorable, upstanding vocation, for that matter. So why be a tailor? In fact, why not prey on the tailors?
Ultima Online, Richard Garriott originally promised, would be "a living breathing magical place, where people could forge true alternative lives." More than 2.5 million copies of Ultima's first eight installments sold worldwide, and fans eagerly awaited the arrival of the online version of their beloved alternative universe.
Garriott had published his first role-playing game, Akalabeth,in 1979, when he was 19. It was an early graphic adventure game for the Apple IIe, heavily influenced by his experiences playing Dungeons & Dragonswith friends. The game did reasonably well, and Garriott dropped out of college to pursue his dream of creating computer games full-time. He quickly published several more games, under the name Ultima.
After completing Ultima III, Garriott, still in his early 20s, became troubled by the lack of moral context in his games - a criticism widely levied against his first gaming love, D&D. He even received letters accusing him of being "the Satanic perverter of America's youth." The criticism hit home. Garriott decided to use his creations to explore the ethical and spiritual issues that he was wrestling with in his own life. With Ultima IV, he created a game that you would win only by upholding what he called the Eight Britannian Virtues: compassion, valor, honor, honesty, spirituality, sacrifice, justice, and humility. The player who met the challenges of the game within this moral code became not just a hero, but the Avatar, savior of Britannia. Yet Garriott had moments of doubting the value of virtue. "While I was writing Ultima IV," he remembers, "I was sure that nobody would get it, people would hate it, and it would be the end of my career."
But his gamble paid off - big time. Released in 1985, Ultima IV sold 180,000 units on the Apple IIe - a big hit for that machine. Garriott developed his next two Ultima game worlds around his concept of the Avatar and the Virtues and extended the in-game philosophy to address an even broader range of social and moral issues - paying particular attention to the murky territory between good and evil. Ultima VI, released in 1990, was a thoughtful treatise on prejudice that caused people to see their own social assumptions in a new light. Ultima VIIexplored the dangers of fundamentalism, with its rigid adherence to moral strictures; 1994's Ultima VIII further deepened the conflict between darkness and light.
The series was heralded as a welcome alternative to the mindless violence of many computer games; Ultima hatched thousands of dedicated, participatory fans and several online clubs. And within the fan pantheon, no one was more revered than Lord British, ruler of Britannia.
Lord British is an idealized father figure - strong and brave, patient and loving, wise and powerful - a suitable mien for the alter ego of the games' creator. Garriott lives in a custom-built castle in Austin, Texas, where he collects medieval armor, ancient astronomical devices, and ritualistic African masks. He regularly attends fantasy-gaming conventions as Lord British, dressed in full medieval regalia and proclaiming the gospel of Ultima to his loyal subjects. Garriott is known for his friendly and accessible manner and for taking the time to mingle with fans. "A couple of years ago," remembers one Lord British admirer, Lady Whisper, "we held a barbecue at our house for the Ultima fans attending GenCon, a fantasy convention here in Milwaukee. I invited Richard to join us, and he brought along several Origin employees and friends and stayed more than three hours." On her Web page, Lady Whisper proudly displays a cherished photograph from this event: her son, Adam Dupre (named for an Ultima character), seated happily in the lap of Lord British.
The black magic of player-killers
Garriott sees Ultima Online as a natural extension of the Ultima legacy, but virtuous role-playing fans had better check their utopian visions at the door. In the Ultima Online of today, many of the thousands of players who slide in nightly appear never to have heard of the Eight Virtues. Britannia is overrun with maniacal, brutal, twitchy-fingered Quakekillers who are ready to murder anyone on sight. Whether this development was intentional or inevitable - or both - is an enduring question, but it is certainly a salient fact of Britannian life.
Garriott wanted to highlight the Virtues, yet he created an online world in which it's easy, tempting, and lucrative to commit lethal crimes. In fact, it is so simple to off a fellow traveler in Britannia that the widespread gaming phenomenon of PKing, or player-killing, has traumatized the realm. Much of UO's evolving culture, in fact, now revolves around simply trying to stay out of harm's way.
Far from a place where virtue is rewarded, the kingdom is ruled by intimidation, power dynamics, and conspicuous consumption. PKing to acquire worldly goods is the most lucrative career choice around. But that's not all. Denizens who live in accordance with the Eight Virtues often find themselves not only poor, bored, and frustrated, but inadvertently punished by the laws of the land. These high-minded players toil in small-time professions, while players with highly developed combat skills reign supreme: They terrorize newcomers, kill for money, and broadcast their wealth and power by building huge castles. It's a tough place to be a noble avatar.
It should be noted, however, that there is life after death in Britannia. When players die, they become ghosts and must follow one of several paths to resurrection, from visiting a shrine to receiving a high-level spell from a traveling companion or a healer, one of a handful of nonplayer characters programmed into the game.
But the low road remains far too tempting. Chris Hawley is a high school student who's logged many hours playing UO and even more playing Quake II."The biggest problem with UO," he observes, "is that playing a good guy gets really boring. The bad guys are having much more fun."
Hawley bought Ultima Online when it first came out. "In the old days," he said (referring to a time only months ago), "I had a lot of fun playing. I started off as a lumberjack and quickly progressed in the game." He enjoyed killing monsters - from lowly mongbats to marauding orcs to dungeon-dwelling liches - making and selling crossbows, and helping other players. But within a few weeks, the monster population had dwindled due to excessive hunting, and the shopkeepers no longer wanted to purchase crossbows, because there was a glut on the market.
Bored, Hawley started to explore other aspects of the game. While practicing magic, he mistakenly cast some spells in town, which left him marked as an evil player. The next day, defending himself against an attack, he mistakenly targeted the wrong player, further darkening his reputation.
Within the span of a few days, he had fully embraced the dark side and quickly earned the title of Dread Lord. He could no longer enter the towns, and newcomers ran in fear when he approached. But much to his surprise, he started having a really great time. "Being a bad guy is loads of fun - there's more to do, more options to explore. You still get to hang out with lots of great people and help them out, but you're helping out other Dread Lords like yourself. And many of them are more interesting than the good-guy players I used to hang out with."
As it happens, this is consistent with Garriott's original vision for online gaming. "When we first launched UO, we set out to create a world that supported the evil player as a legitimate role," he says. Outlaws and monsters are simply two different types of carnivores, all part of one continuous organic system. "Players who choose the life of an outlaw," he explains, "essentially become powerful and intelligent monsters - akin to other monsters in the world, but even more sophisticated and interesting, because they're real human players."
This dynamic works, as long as everyone is playing the same game. But what happens when players who think they're attending an online Renaissance Faire find themselves at the mercy of a violent, abusive gang of thugs? In today's Britannia, it's not uncommon to stumble across groups of evil players who talk like Snoop Doggy Dogg, dress like gangstas, and act like rampaging punks.
When Garriott was asked to respond to disillusioned Ultima fans, it was Lord British who answered. Perhaps he was talking as much about all of cyberspace as about Ultima when he gravely proclaimed: "Those who have truly learned the lessons of the Ultima games should cease their complaining, rise to the challenge, and make Britannia into the place they want it to be."
Very monarchial, you might say. But this regal perspective is harder to maintain outside the castle walls, where PKing has become almost as ubiquitous as it is in Quake. Indeed, virtually as soon as Britannia was launched commercially, it became obvious that PKing was going to be a big problem. In one of many efforts to stem this rising epidemic, Origin created a bounty system, whereby "good" players who showed proof of killing a PKer could earn financial rewards and status. In short, it instituted vigilante justice. Before long, the streets of Britannia were buzzing with conversations about how to best hunt down the PKers. Players now had a quest, and they eagerly set about refining their hunting strategy and moral stance. The good guys were behaving more like the bad guys - and having loads of fun themselves in the process.
The anti-PK backlash resulted in an epiphany of sorts: The paradox of violence in online worlds is that while it generates moral outrage, it also encourages players to band together into tightly knit groups of trusted comrades. These groups - tribes, clans, families, or guilds - are what Britannian culture, and perhaps online culture in general, is really all about.
The tribes
There are already more than 420 member-created guilds in Britannia, and the number is rising. Not surprisingly, guild wars are becoming a popular pastime.
Guilds are not unique to UO - they spring up whenever an online game allows player-killing. They're also a familiar phenomenon in Doom, Quake,and Diablo; the similar apprenticeship program in Asheron's Call gives mentors a percentage of the new player's experience points, serving as a kind of protection racket for newbies.
But the guilds of Britannia, which range in size from 3 to 300, are more numerous and varied than those of other games. The Yew Town Council is a nascent civil society reminiscent of the Knights of the Round Table, formed in direct response to PKing. A powerful adventurer donated 50,000 gold pieces (a sum that would, incidentally, take a tailor weeks to earn) and a warship, which was recently christened in a formal ceremony that also instituted an initial code of honor. The Britannian Thespians League, on the other hand, is preparing to introduce a new kind of play to Britannia: It is building sets, holding auditions for actors, and writing a script that's loosely based on "The Emperor's New Clothes."
Then there are the guilds reminiscent of the Elks Club in its heyday. Mohdri Dragon is a longtime member of the Talons of Justice, which migrated to UO from another online game, Diablo. One night recently, he offered to take my character, DarkStarr, on a tour of the Talons' newly purchased Guild Tower. Upon arrival, the place was bustling with activity. The tour ended in a waiting room designed for those wishing to have an audience with Lord William, the guild's leader, who promotes the Eight Britannian Virtues.
After a few moments, three powerful-looking characters emerged from Lord William's chambers. They were dressed alike, in full-body armor with matching dark-green robes and sashes. "You can go in now," one of them said. "The transaction is complete."
Mohdri and DarkStarr entered the room and bowed before Lord William, who was sitting behind an imposing desk. After chatting for a few moments, Lord William said, "Unfortunately, I must take your leave. We have just formed an alliance with the Guardians of the Sacred Order, and they have invited us to attend a swearing-in ceremony for their newest members." He paused for a moment, assessing DarkStarr's trustworthiness. "You are welcome to join us, Milady, for this auspicious occasion."
Lord William led the group to the meeting with the Guardians of the Sacred Order, but he didn't have far to go. Lord Randolph, the order's chief, created a magical moongate that teleported all of us to the Throne Room, deep inside the gated castle of Lord British.
The ritual unfolded with dignified solemnity. The members of each guild, looking quite splendid in their matching outfits, lined up for inspection. Lord Randolph took the stage and made a heartfelt speech. One by one, the new recruits came up to be sworn into the brotherhood. They bowed, drank a sip of ceremonial wine, and each received a dark-green sash to signify their new status.
Then the partying began. Someone had brought a cake, and even DarkStarr added two hams, which she brought in her backpack, to the feast. Bottles of champagne were passed around, causing some new members to speak loudly and bump into each other. The two clans intermingled, discussing how they could help each other defend their homesteads. It was late when Lord William graciously thanked DarkStarr for coming, and Mohdri kindly escorted her back to town.
The next evening Britannia taught DarkStarr another lesson - one without the formality of the preceding exchange. The Insidious Brotherhood is a group of bloodthirsty player-killers and dangerous religious fanatics. Rumor has it that the guild worships the evil Guardian, a character from Ultima VII, and performs pagan rituals over its hapless victims. Xavori, infamous rogue and consummate role-player, invited DarkStarr to join the Brotherhood for an evening of merriment and senseless violence. (Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.) The two made their way to Elegant Chaos, the guild's headquarters. When they arrived, the brethren were hanging out, casually hurling fireballs at each other. They crowded around DarkStarr - "Who's the newcomer? It's a female!" - and made crude jokes. To entertain DarkStarr, they killed a wandering healer, ate some of the victim's body parts, and prayed together over the corpse, offering it as a sacrifice to the evil Guardian.
The head of the Insidious Brotherhood, Magical Bubba, was adept at building consensus among his rowdy comrades - a skill that enabled him to turn this small band of evil characters into a lean, mean fighting machine. In the guild wars, the Brotherhood oft vanquished guilds many times its size.
At one point, things turned really ugly. In a display of brute force, Bubba turned himself into a gorilla and threatened to sodomize Xavori with a thigh bone taken from one of the victims. Unintimidated, Xavori cast a blazing firewall at Bubba - but because of server lag (or perhaps bad aim) it hit DarkStarr instead, killing her instantly.
The hosts gathered around, staring down at the corpse in momentary dismay. One of them cried out, "You've killed the reporter from Wired, you moron!"
Roadkill. A fitting end, it would seem, for a journey through Britannia these days. Now, what about those Eight Virtues?
Everytime I explain the factions in WoW to anyone who has ever played a fantasy game or seen a fantasy movie, I always find it hard to get the notion that the good guys are not exactly who you would expect.
"The orcs, trolls and giant cows, yeah the guys that look like the bad guys from every other fantasy work, they saved the world in the last game..."
I think it's funny that this never comes up in any: "WoW is popular, look at all these people that play," articles.
Everytime I explain the factions in WoW to anyone who has ever played a fantasy game or seen a fantasy movie, I always find it hard to get the notion that the good guys are not exactly who you would expect.
"The orcs, trolls and giant cows, yeah the guys that look like the bad guys from every other fantasy work, they saved the world in the last game..."
I think it's funny that this never comes up in any: "WoW is popular, look at all these people that play," articles.
Exactly as I said in the NY Times article thread. Can we please get an article that is about an actual issue in the game? The news coverage of the Hakkar disease was somewhat interesting but only a good start.
Everytime I explain the factions in WoW to anyone who has ever played a fantasy game or seen a fantasy movie, I always find it hard to get the notion that the good guys are not exactly who you would expect.
"The orcs, trolls and giant cows, yeah the guys that look like the bad guys from every other fantasy work, they saved the world in the last game..."
I think it's funny that this never comes up in any: "WoW is popular, look at all these people that play," articles.
Agreed, I don't really dig the stereotypical approach to fantasy alignment, where ugly = evil and pretty = good. I was attracted to the horde because they were non-standard fantasy races, you can play humans and elves and dwarves and gnomes in almost any other fantasy game, but rarely can you play a troll, orc, undead or what is essentially a minotaur. The only other game on the top of my head that lets you play non-standard races is EverQuest, but I've had enough of that game.
I also found the horde attractive because they're a non-standard approach to non-standard fantasy races. Sure, many forsaken are evil, and their leadership is certainly evil, but many members of the race are solidly neutral and/or mentally disturbed. You can't really call someone evil because their perception on reality has been sundered after dying and then coming back to life. The rest of the faction is most certainly not evil. Though I suppose you could make an argument for the trolls, but there really aren't enough quests related to the trolls to establish a solid racial outlook for the Darkspear, though I know of at least one quest giver who is most likely evil.
That's one of the things that I really like about WoW, none of the player races are obviously evil, but they all have the potential to be evil. This is one of the things, I feel, that makes the game so unique and accessable, but when all these articles do is reference what other people say regarding the races (like the blog entry: The Horde is Evil), it makes it seem like the game is very shallow.
you can play humans and elves and dwarves and gnomes in almost any other fantasy game, but rarely can you play a troll, orc, undead or what is essentially a minotaur.
Uh, really? Many D&D-license games allow you to play as half- or full-orcs. The Elder Scrolls games let you play as lizard- and cat-men. Even in MMOGs, Horizons, Shadowbane, EQ1+2, Second Life (okay, I'm reaching) have this freedom. And outside of the RPG genre it's even more likely to play a 'monstrous' race in a fantasy game.
I also found the horde attractive because they're a non-standard approach to non-standard fantasy races. Sure, many forsaken are evil, and their leadership is certainly evil, but many members of the race are solidly neutral and/or mentally disturbed.
It's not a very tightly-knit faction, I'd say; there are a lot of Forsaken who care little for the party line coming from the Undercity. That said, the organized goal of the Forsaken is the eventual destruction of all of the other races. That may be more "mentally disturbed" than evil, or it may not be evil relativistically speaking, but it's certainly antisocial and antagonistic.
A lot of the undead NPCs in the game are touching/depressing, but the race as a political entity itself is more or less evil in the traditional sense. Whether that reflects upon the players who choose to have their avatars in them is a much different question.
That's one of the things that I really like about WoW, none of the player races are obviously evil, but they all have the potential to be evil.
Yes, this is cool. But WoW is far from the first game to do this. I think you pick most any game that allows you to play as a 'monstrous' race and find some rationale allowing the player to be "good." Many (most?) players don't want to be evil.
EDIT: Out of curiosity, who are you referring to as the "obviously evil" Darkspear questgiver? I've never played Troll.
"The orcs, trolls and giant cows, yeah the guys that look like the bad guys from every other fantasy work, they saved the world in the last game..."
I think it's funny that this never comes up in any: "WoW is popular, look at all these people that play," articles.
It has been a while since W3, but I recall the wisps saving the world. Of course, it was the alliance between the two factions that helped weaken the Burning Crusade.
Regardless of what happened in that game, I don't think it needs to be part of a WoW article.
At least the 7 mil subscribers has created more interest than before (maybe more investment in a a few of the upcoming MMOs to pull some of the people away?).
Anyway, the business model of WoW is very valuable, I would like to see articles on that.
Millions of words are written annually purporting to tell how to beat the races, whereas the best possible advice on the subject is found in the three monosyllables: 'Do not try.'
"The orcs, trolls and giant cows, yeah the guys that look like the bad guys from every other fantasy work, they saved the world in the last game..."
I think it's funny that this never comes up in any: "WoW is popular, look at all these people that play," articles.
It has been a while since W3, but I recall the wisps saving the world. Of course, it was the alliance between the two factions that helped weaken the Burning Crusade.
Regardless of what happened in that game, I don't think it needs to be part of a WoW article.
And yet we get plenty of movie plot synopsis and book reviews and sports articles with detailed info. Not to mention TV shows. It's purely cultural.
the pseudo-cyber-intelligentsia floating around that site
I understand that most of them are published authors, game designers, and/or college professors, but sure, "pseudo-cyber-intelligentsia" works too.
There will always be gamers who have a knee-jerk rejection of anyone studying their games academically.
Being published and credentialed does not make you correct, it merely makes you worthy of review.
However, this poses an interesting question; who is at a clearer vantage point from which to assess these games? The non-player, who is hindered by his lack of knowlege on the topic, or the player, who, while knowlegable, may lack a properly objective attitude?
Without a doubt, this game can become unhealthy, but I personally regard it with the same attitude that I regard alcohol, firearms, tobacco, various controlled substances, and automobiles, and that is an attitude of personal responsibility.
Anyway,
Originally Posted by Quigon
Second thing:
Originally Posted by Igni
Another example of questionable behavior is viewable in a video that more than 80,000 people have accessed on YouTube. When one guild member died (in real life, not Azeroth), his grieving friends decided to hold a funeral for him inside the game. The solemn affair was disrupted when a rival guild burst upon the unarmed mourners and slaughtered them mercilessly. "It's unfortunate that someone would do that to people trying to honor one of their guild members," says Mike Morhaime, Blizzard's president. Another event that bothered Blizzard's management was an in-game protest march, when hundreds of naked Gnomes gathered to call for more powers.
Paragraphs like this are virtually internet gold...
I like how the author distinctly fails to note that the Serenity Now video was met with just as much outrage as praise, if not more.
As for:
Originally Posted by Quigon
As for WoW being the new golf... give me a break. Trump doesn't galavant through molten core on his off days. I can't even imagine how that meeting woudl go. So, wanna talk about this merger? Sure, lets meet at the ragefire chasm meeting stone on Kil'Jaeden at 6pm just before my raid... "Get out of my office."
That's true, but people do play with their co-workers, and the analogy does hold somewhat in that regard. You have to remember that the reason people golf, bowl, etc., isn't merely the sport, its also the social aspect. Playing WoW with your work buddies is a similar interaction.
Everytime I explain the factions in WoW to anyone who has ever played a fantasy game or seen a fantasy movie, I always find it hard to get the notion that the good guys are not exactly who you would expect.
"The orcs, trolls and giant cows, yeah the guys that look like the bad guys from every other fantasy work, they saved the world in the last game..."
I think it's funny that this never comes up in any: "WoW is popular, look at all these people that play," articles.
Hehe, have you leveled an alliance character? We're kind of both the good guys. I leveled an orc hunter after playing exclusively alliance for eight months, and it kind of made me sad that these were the guys I had been killing the whole time. Everyone feels like the good guy. And then I thought about how this sort of thing applied to most real-life armed conflicts, and it was somewhat depressing. :(
Ignie Ferroque translates from latin to "with fire & with sword." It is a stock phrase used to describe the results of a destructive raid into an enemy's territory, whose sole purpose is to generate fear, terror, and destruction.
That blog entry pissed me off when I read it because Castronova should have known better.
Where can i find it?
I'd also like a link. I've never read about it, but I've heard about it.
Edit: I think this article makes a lot of assumptions. It starts off with the premise that the horde is evil, and the continues to say that the horde is evil because: 1) it looks evil, 2) it is evil, 3) there are no children (well, there are but this is a statement he makes) therefore the orcs are evil, due to the lack of children. I can understand some of his claims, especially undead Cannibalization, but it seems as if he's trying to apply humanity's morals to things that simply do not exist in this world.
Yes, an orc, with their passion for warfare would most likely be seen as a negative force on Earth, but in Azeroth, where you have to fight to survive, and people will kill you if you don't, it's completely different. It's like saying a starving person is evil for hoarding any food they find. That's not evil, it's self-preservation, a wholly neutral act.
Regarding actions in games: I played the evil path in Fable (though I wish I hadn't played or purchased the game at all) to see the ending cinematic. I did the same with the good path and then two divergent paths (good becoming evil and evil becoming good). I didn't do it to explore some aspect of myself, I did it because I wanted to feel like I got my money's worth after realizing what a sell-short it was. There was no moral or self-exploratory motivation, it was just to see what was in the game.
I'm not even sure where to begin regarding, "Orcs in Warcraft are still evil even if Blizzard makes them good."
Us. Hate to break it to you, but the personality type of "raider", or "hardcore gamer" would probably be the most likely to further immerse themselves. WoW is actually lighter on time sinkage then say, EQ or FF, so we should be able to easily compare. I'd also posit that the theoretical "danger" age group would be the early to mid- teens, whereas once you reach your 20s there is more of life to deal with in general.
Considering the things a lot of teens do to occupy their spare time in general, I'd say WoW is far superior.
In fact, what about government-subsidized WoW accounts to reduce crime in inner cities? OK, it's a joke, but it would be an interesting experiment.
WTF, that was the biggest load of crap I've ever read. That guy embodies everything that is wrong with the shallow views that plague the world today. As an Orc I'm actually offended that he can claim that orcs can never be "good" because he personally sees them as "bad" due to some ridiculous negative connotation he was raised with. That's basically saying "You're wrong because you're different."
09/11/06, 11:05 AM
