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Feb 22, 2004 A few days ago, I ceased being James Bisson, smarmy humor columnist. I became Tormok the Unbathed, a sword-wielding half-human/half-goat hybrid maniac from the mystical land of Kunark. The post office was less than enthused about the change, telling me they had no desire to have my mail redirected to anyone or anything named “Tormok the Unbathed”. And the government insisted that, even though my job as “professional villain maimer” generates no taxable income, I’ll still have to file this year. Of course, this isn’t my real-life job, but rather the one I’ve undertaken in an online game titled “EverQuest: The Ruins of Kunark”. It’s one in a series of EverQuest games, including “EverQuest: The Charred Cinders of Whatchamacallit”, and “EverQuest: The College Years”. The objective in EverQuest is to create a character which you will use to interact with thousands of other characters in an online world roughly the size of North Dakota. There, you can fight monsters together, engage in challenging quests, or simply exchange recipes or stock tips with fellow gamers. The first thing you need to know about EverQuest is that it’s crawling with geeks. In fact, if science ever needed to round up 20,000 nerds for some sort of study, all it would have to do is head to Kunark. I learned about this right off the bat, when I encountered a player-character who went by the name “Thesius of Norrath”. I asked him where I should go to become a powerful swordsman. His response was: “Ah, young squire… you are but a youngling in this strange and foreign land. Follow thine boots to the early- day sun, and there, ye shall find what ye seek.” I laughed so hard, I nearly fell out of mine chair. I soon discovered that most players take the game very seriously. EverQuest has already featured a number of “virtual weddings,” where male and female characters unite in online matrimony. Of course, it’s usually not wise to exchange vows in a place like Kunark, unless you’re the kind of person who enjoys watching mutant lizards devour an entire wedding party. I know I am. I wasn’t intending to get all that immersed in the game, so I just walked around for a while, checking out the scenery and trying to avoid being stabbed or robbed (just like in real life!) After about an hour of this, I got very bored, and decided to approach a nearby player, Gladius, and ask him what I should do next: GLADIUS: You should leave this zone immediately. TORMOK THE UNCLEAN: Why? I like it here. The sky looks pretty. GLADIUS: You’re a first-level man-goat. And this place is full of 70th level monsters. TORMOK: Is that bad? GLADIUS: Verily. In the distance, I could hear what sounded like a large bird flying towards us at twice the speed of bird. It was, in fact, a GIANT bird, and before I knew it, I was engaged in battle (without Gladius, who bailed in a hurry): TORMOK THE UNCLEAN thrusts his sword at TERRORDACTYL. TERRORDACTYL laughs and points at TORMOK THE UNCLEAN, then steals his sword and uses it to pick his beak. TORMOK THE UNCLEAN craps his pants. TERRORDACTYL pecks TORMOK THE UNCLEAN for 2.6 billion hit points. TORMOK THE UNCLEAN has died a painful, gruesome death! Occasionally you’ll find player-characters just out to have a little fun. They’re easy to identify, with names like “Throbby McSnot,” or “Bill the Systems Analyst”. Hardcore gamers loathe the casual players. It really spoils the fantasy when you’re in the middle of a battle with a 40-foot turtle, and Throbby comes up from behind, steals your money, uses a spell to turn the 40-foot turtle into a 400-foot very angry turtle, and then runs off to find another group of fighters to piss off. I wouldn’t recommend taking part in an EverQuest game unless you have time to devote to building a character. And frankly, most of us have far more important things to do with our time, like watching Paris Hilton milk a cow in a thong. But don’t let me stop you from at least trying it out. Just watch out for a half-man/half-goat hybrid maniac running straight at you. Chances are, there’s a terrordactyl coming right behind him. ------------ About the author: James Bisson is a reporter/editor for Canadian Press in Toronto. So yes, he does have a real job. And no, he's not in a mental institution. Yet. Email James A. Bisson: jbisson@cp.org Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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