Haus got a hold of me on Facebook after seeing some of the 20th anniversary posts I made and decided to write up a post for the site. I’ve had it for a little while now, life gets busy and things get overlooked, I hope you enjoy it … here it is, Haus!
In the summer of 1994, I’d just finished my first year in grad school and a tiring 6-week research project. I was looking forward to going back to Alander’s Rivers of Mud (RoM) for some mindless hack-n-slash, but he had done a massive overhaul which included a complete player-file wipe, which I’m still bitter about. I went on Usenet to look for a new mud and saw Thoric’s post. The vampire class sounded fun, so I rolled a character. One thing I learned during my brief tenure as an immortal at RoM was that short names made life a lot easier, so I shortened my handle from “Hausdorff” to “Haus.” As far as I know there were two other mortal players at that time – Pandora and Akasha. They were both affiliated with Compulink. I went on a power-levelling jag for two or three days, and, was the first mortal to reach avatar. I had a few chats with Thoric, and he was interested in having another set of eyes on the code. Memory leaks were a big problem in the early days, so over the summer we spent a lot of time analyzing the core dumps when the mud crashed, repairing problems, and repeating.
Realms became much more popular that fall, but I was focusing mostly on my classwork. By Winter Break, there were probably twenty active immortals. The day-to-day administration was handled by a fellow that Thoric appointed who was, well, a dick of the first order. He was a hell of an area builder, but a complete failure as an administrator. For a long time, folks who wanted to contribute to growing and improving the game had to do it in spite of the tirades and follies of this dickish guy. Morale was all over the place, but, we mostly managed to make it work. In this period, we set up the test server, a lot of people were building areas, and we got more aggressive when it came to adding features.
More than a couple of high school kids wrote their first lines of computer code to do something cool in SMAUG, caught the programming bug, and went on to become software professionals. In these early days we did a lot of the things that made SMAUG SMAUG to me – programmable objects/mobs/rooms, expanded classes, unique spells/skills, expanded player and mob races, improvements to the area building system, and so forth.
So things went on, we made the game richer, the player-base continued to expand. My course work and research had me in a computer lab 12+ hours per day, so I was able to spend a lot more time with one eye on the mud. A group of highish-level immortals started discussing how the main thing holding back the game’s progress was random attacks from the aforementioned dick, and began to kick around alternatives. After a lot of debate and discussion amongst ourselves, we approached Thoric with the idea of a council of senior immortals replacing the dick in overseeing day-to-day operations. After a lot more debate and discussion, we formed the Council of Elders (CoE) and were suddenly running the joint. The CoE’s prime directive was to continually improve the game, but the challenging part was to make being an immortal/area builder/coder a rewarding way for a person to spend their time. A big key to this was an unwritten rule that senior immortals coached and protected juniors, and, in return, juniors acted respectfully to seniors. Another was working out how we could delegate interesting tasks that were originally in the purview of the CoE. The delegation was wildly successful, and we soon had councils doing things like recruiting new immortals, overseeing area building, proposing and managing new projects, handling promotions of lower-level immortals, smoothing the learning curve for newbies and so forth.
For me, this was the Golden Age. Immortals were doing interesting work and having a lot of fun. The CoE had an amazing blend of strengths and personae. The job demanded that we each make a lot of unilateral decisions, but also that we could recognize potentially controversial issues, and refer those to a full vote. Many governments could learn a lot from the mutual respect, calm debate, and compromise we had in the CoE. As the immortal community grew, it started pumping out talented and experienced administrators (and coders, and builders) who started bubbling to the top. Plenty found a spot somewhere in the middle that they liked and stayed there. Others wanted to work their way up the ladder to the “big league.” With the exception of “pure-coders,” those that made it to 55/56 were very experienced in general immortaling, very good at at least one of the trinity (admin/coding/building), and were trusted in any given situation to either (a) make a good decision, or (b) kick the problem up the ladder for consideration. Those that made it to 57 were serious contenders for a future position on the CoE. So, the 51s-55s were overseeing the mortals, the 55s-57s were overseeing the lower immortals, and the CoE was focusing on big-picture ideas and “Supreme Court” cases.
I spent most of my online time invisible except to the 56+s because (a) I could, (b) it kept me from getting in the way of the mid-level imms, and (c) it made the wall of multicolored spam that I had to read every tick a bit more managable. At some point, an engineer who has built a solid machine gets tired of watching it work, and gets the itch to go and build new machines. For a long time, I hung out, tweaking this and that, enjoying watching the high immortals and future CoE members do their jobs. Then, a “real-life” relationship exploded, necessitating that I move to another country, and so I did what any reasonable person would do: I went over to Darrek’s house, lost to him repeatedly at Nintendo Hockey, and drank many, many Molsons.
The combination of boredom and being irritated at RoD had ended a lot of people’s tenure there. By this time, it was crystal clear to me that I’d finally landed in that pile. I didn’t want to be the guy that leaves and comes back and leaves and comes back – that rarely ends well. So, between zigarauts of empty beers at Darrek’s computer I logged in, announced I was “outie,” and deleted my player file. The sudden departure caused some weirdness, but I was really glad to see some of my all-star proteges names replacing mine on the CoE roster.
I think what I like best about the whole experience is how folks took skills and experiences from Realms and transferred them into their real lives. Among my closest friends from RoD: this guy owns a computer services company, that guy’s a computer science professor, this gal’s a hot shot in the gaming industry, that gal’s a successful fantasy writer. A lot of us really spent more time on RoD than we probably should have, but it’s really nice to see that the time spent payed off for people in a lot of interesting ways.
With the post from Kinux we’ve ascended into the upper echelons of the wizlist. These lofty heights hold some of the Realms’ oldest immortals, members of the Council of Elders whose vision helps to shape the game we enjoy together. Over time even member of the CoE retire and their contributions become blurred into the fabric of Realms until it becomes a day to day part of our lives. Today’s contributor falls squarely into this description. He was one of the people who helped to create the deity system that still exists today, deities whose names were in fact the names of Immortals. These are the deities who were retired in the Shattering and whose replacements can be called Deities 2.0. He’s also someone who came out of the woodwork following the Realms of Despair Facebook page and enjoyed these recollections enough to take the time to write one for our enjoyment. With thanks I present Witherin!
Most of my memories from back in my time on RoD have been reduced to a warm, fuzzy blur. So when Tharius talked to me about making a contribution, I held off. I wanted to ponder it a bit. Do some actual research to recall some items. But I think I’m ready now.
Sad to say, I haven’t been involved in RoD for quite some time now. I think I left sometime around ‘96/’97 or so. Give or take. I’d married another RoD member and she had left RoD under a cloud that left me stuck between a rock and a hard place. I would have liked to have continued with RoD, but… Well… Marriage.. The choice was really a non-choice from the moment it was presented. Lol! Years later, the marriage fell apart and life was a long, hard struggle after that. When I finally did get
back into gaming, World of Warcraft caught my interest. And that was that.
Ok.. Enough about the “after”. Let’s dive into the beginning. I got my start with RoD back around ‘93/’94. A couple of my co-workers played and were old high school friends of Thoric. So I thought I’d give it a try. My first character was named Witherin. Several more were created afterwards. Arcana, Celasquida, Hronak and others I can’t remember. But Witherin was always my main. Sad to say. I can’t even remember the race/class he was. But I had a blast leveling him up. From the outset, I allowed
him to have a somewhat dark and mysterious persona. It tied into my social awkwardness (growing up with a hearing loss tends to lend itself to wallflower status in large social groupings), and let me take the social aspect of the game on my own terms. I got to Avatar level at a good clip. Not record setting by any means. But I was happy with the pace. I was a bit lost for a while once I hit Avatar. Not being as skilled with the social aspects, it took me a while to find my footing. In the meantime, I would spend time with my other toons and explore aspects and areas that I hadn’t touched on as Witherin.
It felt to me like it didn’t take long at all before I was sponsored to be Imm and got the promo. But that could very well be the blurriness of time having its influence. It took me a while to get a feel for being an Imm. Most of the time I was just monitoring/approving toon names; acting as intermediary with disputes between toons; playing bad cop when I had to (seems that dark and mysterious persona lent itself well to this); and peeking at the code underlying things to start to get a feel for it all.
Of the major things I was involved with.. In relative order, based on shoddy recollection, I’d say the helping to write the Newbie guide; helping with the formation of the Newbie Council; creation of Thul’Abhara; and the creation of the deity system. I had a hand in all of those things to one degree or another, and likely other things as well. Thul I was very proud of. I’m glad to see it’s still there after all this time. The deities… That whole thing was a great idea that turned into a pain in the butt to get working right. First public shot at it, the player items were not well balanced at all. Some were just too
over powered. Some were more along the lines of cosmetic items, rather than actually useful. So a lot of tweaking was done. I’m glad to see the deities are still there and have become such an integral part of the game.
Along the way, promotions happened. Always nice to get the recognition and being able to do more for the game is great. But you do begin to feel that disconnect.. The separation from the players. I did my best to counteract that.. Playing on my alts.. Keeping a couple of them anonymous as much as I could.
Near the end of my time on RoD I was lucky enough to get bumped to the CoE. I never really felt like I belonged with them. Not from any cold shoulders on their part. All were approachable to one degree or another. I just… Well I always felt like the little brother tagging along with the older kids. Brought in because they needed one more and I was just.. There.. To be fair that was mostly my own insecurities.
In any case. I think I held my own. And if I didn’t actually do anything spectacular beyond adding in my own two cents to our private discussions, I think I can feel good about my short time amongst that lofty crew.
All in all I had a great time on RoD. And I keep telling myself I should revisit it (I actually did a couple of times for short stints. But it never felt the same without having the name Witherin (a restricted name, of course)). Had a few romances. Made many friends (some of whom I’ve been lucky enough to reconnect with). And walked away with a ton of warm and somewhat fuzzy memories.
As promised, here is the continuation of Loril’s tale. When you ask someone to recap their adventures and they choose to do it in character you know that they have dedicated a great deal of effort to the work. I am grateful to Loril for taking the time to share her adventures from the Academy through to becoming an immortal here. Self conscious that the piece is far to long she has done her best to be brief but I will suggest that when you get to the end of it you will realize how much more she could have added in (indeed, we could have a weekly serial “The Adventures of a Blue Potion Junkie” and still take ages to relate the whole tale!) So from mountains of AOL CDs, weeks in preauth, a month in the academy … to her in game meeting with Stoneheft and Grunthos and many others, I present the continuation of Loril, in her own words!
As a newborn babe’s cries tugs at a mother’s heart, so did the cries for help throughout the lands tug at the heart of Loril. Born to Grace Gemstone (the one they called Queen), Loril knew self-reliance both by necessity and by blood. From Darkhaven to the far reaches of the land, she ran tirelessly. This one is blind in the Holy Grove, that one cursed among the gravestones. Healer on inumerable quests to defeat evil, nurturer to countless young adventurers to whom the world was a harsh place full of mocking and lacking in compassion. Running, always running. At times, her eyes streaming from lack of sleep and adequate nourishment, her muscles screaming for relief, her mind near hazed with the concentration required for countless healing and aiding spells.
In these days, she was heard to joke about her growing addiction to blue potions. Always broke, she found herself on occasion involved in a run of dubious aim. Her alignment dipping to evil, her heart ached. But these runs were lucrative – a very successful means to earn the gold required to continue her work aiding and sustaining. There was no time to rest or sleep for mana! Blue potions were the means. Dark warriors tempted her with huge crates brimming with blue potions for her services. And she accepted. Heart heavy, it seemed the only way.. But Grace, with the wisdom and vision of Stonegrip and Goldenrod noted all. She summoned her older son Stoneheft to her. Their consultation was brief. Stoneheft would set aside his own life’s work for a time, taking Loril under his tutilage to guide her growth and help her find her own way.
Grace sent a summons to Loril inviting her to meet in the square at Darkhaven. Loril, as was her way, was running then to the Art Gallery in town where someone, unprepared for adventure had wandered too far. The word came back, ‘Loril, yes – deliver the scroll but return here soon, girl.’ Loril, still caught up in the headlong rush to be in all places, aiding all people barely recognized the tone in that message but, as the square was on her path to the next call anyway, paused there for a time. As always, Darkhaven Square was teeming with people preparing for adventure, preparing for battle, stopping for a drink or pausing to pass a moment with a friend. And, as always, there was a constant stream of all manner of people hoping for something from Grace. Some were content with a smile or a blessing. Others lingered, hoping for some personal time. Still others begged a greater boon. Named well, her grace fairly filled the square and seemed to on occasion fill all there with peace and quiet would fall for a moment as all present felt restored and would faintly smile then carry on. ‘Daughter.’ Grace’s gaze fell on Loril. ‘Your brother has returned from his travels and will be happy to escort you for a time’. Loril, who’s thoughts had already wandered as she listened to various cries for help, absently looked at Stoneheft who was obviously discomfited by the bustle and, very likely the prospect of ‘escorting’ his little sister. ‘Rather scrawny’, she thought, looking more closely at this brother whom she barely knew. He looked down at her and smiled warmly and she felt in his regard the love and wisdom of one much older than his years.
And so began Loril’s age of learning.
Adrift, lonely when seldom alone, she had spent countless years driven by that within which compelled her to heal. Yet much of the knowledge of this world had remained hidden from her. Her skills had served her well and she had honed them until she was quite proud yet an emptiness had prevailed within. Stoneheft took her that first day to the waterfall near the ancient kingdom of Juargan. There they sat as he listened to her tales. After a time she fell silent as the constant drumming of the water drowned out the cries that previously had occupied her universe. A peace, strange but welcome, stole over her and for the first time in memory she felt truly relaxed. Loril slept then. And she dreamed. There was a great warrior – a man of stone, it seemed. Favoured-One of the gods. Or one god. It was unclear. She dreamed of a great rending and a long age of despair. But then another warrior. This one female. This warrior’s pain and courage drew the attention and favour of the gods. She dreamed then of a new age of great beginnings. Her mother was there then, sad, but great in her love of her people.
Awakening, Loril slowly became aware of her brother speaking. She rolled over to look up at him and saw again, that secret smile of wisdom and depth. The tale he was telling continued that of her dream and the two, telling and dreaming, became one and she knew that he was speaking of their family and heritage. He spoke of their Aunt Sunrise and Uncle Alazar, a cousin Calazar. He spoke too of Asterix whom she knew and had a certain fondness for… Fireforge.. others. He told tales of their times in the dwarven forest when the Gemstone family was great, vast, and renouned. Gemstone family picnics were famous for riotous fun, vast consumption of food and ale, and games. (And Loril inwardly grieved at the times she had missed during the long years of running.) Many days did they linger there as Loril first healed then began again to grow anew. And Stoneheft continued his teaching. Patiently, he helped her understand the ways of the world as he too had been far in these lands but he, unlike her, had not been running. His life’s work was to learn these lands in detail. Specifically he mapped the places he found, but more, he studied and learned the byways and peoples in the places he entered. Sometimes months would he spend in a town until he knew it as he knew himself.
As time passed and Loril knew peace, Stoneheft took her out into these lands to show her what he had found and in so doing, they discovered other lands together. Their combined skills resulted in many packs of parchment – maps, drawings, notes. Time passed and at times their adventures separated them physically but never mentally as they were now bound in a way few siblings ever enjoy.
One sunny day after a particularly exhausting time helping a Little One (as Loril had come to call the young adventurers she would meet at the Academy – a home she could never completely leave) re-equip, Loril made her way to a dock where she and Stoneheft would often sit and watch the dolphins out at sea. There she found Stoneheft and a younger Dwarf exchanging insults. Shocked, she hung back a bit to take in the sight and pull her mace to hand.. in case. Much would she loathe the thought of drawing the blood of one of her people but she would stand for no one who crossed her beloved brother. It dawned on her after a short time that these were the jesting insults of a pair of friends. The puns and plays on words would build until both Dwarves would fall about one-another in paroxyms of giggles that were contagious. Loril found herself completely completely entertained and sat quietly at the end of the dock, hugging and burying her face in her knees to stifle the laughter welling in her at the antics of these two silly … boys. Yes, boys! A side of Stoneheft she’d only ever glimpsed before now was revealed in its full and ridiculous glory! Frolicking about like a child one third his age, Loril was thrilled to see him so enjoying the moment.
Later that night, Loril made a fire and the trio sat around it, staring at the stars. Few words were spoken for some hours. They shared out some ale, the males worn out from their earlier antics, Loril sizing up this Grunthos .. this person with the ability to bring out the child in the brother she idolized. It was apparent that he too worshipped Stoneheft. She found herself warming to this strange warrior. Just as she was thinking the other two had nodded off and perhaps it was time for her to turn in as well, Grunthos started speaking very lowly. It was poetry, after a fashion. Some readers might recognise the words spoken that night as Vogon poetry and, as like as not, those same readers would agree that they’d sooner face Balzhur on a bad day than ever again hear such.
As countless thousands of years of equally countless lovers can attest: sometimes there is no accounting for true love. And the stirrings of love were felt in Loril’s heart that eve’. She sat enthralled as Grunthos’ voice reached such a pitch that the dolphins themselves cried out to the heavens for relief. The dogs of New Thalos that night were heard to yelp and whimper as they gnawed at their own hind legs seeking relief from the sound they were too dumb to understand and too sensitive to ignore. Stoneheft, long asleep by this time, likely heard nothing over the sound of his own snoring. He was oblivious to the future building on that dock, that would grow on that dock, and that would eventually be consummated on that very dock.
The following months passed quickly. More organised in her life’s work now, Loril found she required first one, then another employee – she simply couldn’t carry all the items a Healer requires to perform her tasks effectively. One of these, an orphan Loril had found wandering dazed and bloody in the streets of Thalos, was named only Lyra. Loril and Lyra became fast friends, sisters in the way of female friends throughout the world. Of sweet disposition, really, Lyra was a also a steadfast warrior who tolerated little nonsense and went about her tasks as Loril’s bearer and defender with a steadiness and determination that at times concerned her friend and employer. Loril would try to encourage Lyra to go out, have adventures of her own, meet some people. But Lyra, grateful to her friend for saving her life would smile and quietly refuse.
Loril, Grunthos, and Stoneheft wandered the world. Loril’s work as a Healer continued as did her passion for her Little Ones. She professed that she was living on Cloud Nine as her love for Grunthos grew and grew. He patiently escorted her on many a doomed or ill-fated rescue effort and just as patiently layed down his life along side her time and again when, as still was her wont, she dragged him headlong into disaster in an effort to heal and assist. Try as he would to convince her that others needed to learn to get themselves out of the trouble they’d found on their own (or better still, not get into it in the first place), she would just as patiently explain to him, ‘it’s what I do…’. He watched as some took cruel advantage of her naive ways, never leaving her to her folly, his sword ever ready to fell the nasties in their path so that those she felt she was aiding could prevail.
And at night, on that dock, they would go over the day’s experiences and discuss other ways she could continue her work yet not allow the thoughtless to benefit unfairly. Loril adopted her concept of Tough Love for the Little Ones and others during those quiet talks.
It was during this time that a mischief-loving vampire named Xenedra took notice of our Healer and asked her if she had interest in the Newbie Council. At first, Loril could see no reason to join an organisation to do what she had always done anyway. As she discussed it with the two men she adored, she grew to realize the fit was a natural. Belonging to the Newbie Council would bring focus to her work for the Little Ones (to whom she had sometime previously decided to devote herself). There would be other members from whom she could learn more and perhaps, with the knowledge she had gained with Stoneheft and Grunthos, she could contribute in her own way to their esteemed ranks. The Council did that for her and more. The Council headquarters became her home. The soft grass under the Council’s tree became her bed when Stoneheft and Grunthos were off on their own adventures.
Naturally enough (it might be mentioned here), Stoneheft and Lyra got to know one-another. She, like Grunthos was somehow able to bring out that silliness in Stoneheft which few others ever saw in that serious student of the world. But as well, Loril witnessed a softer Stoneheft in Lyra’s company. Never having been the object of anything approaching tenderness in her life, his attentions were at first rebuffed as strange and alien. Eventually though, Stoneheft’s courtly adoration struck a chord. He found a way past her shield of shyness and well, that’s another story for another time. They call each other DearOne. Let us leave them in their bliss.
In time, Grunthos and Loril realised that they belonged together (well, rather, one day Grunty said, in that way of his, that he wanted her to be his … ahh well, others get the bended knee and a single perfect rose… You didn’t really think Grunty was that type, did you?) In those days, it was traditional for an immortal to perform the ceremony. Loril couldn’t bring herself to impose upon an immortal’s time and many friends and family had to badger her into asking. She approached Brittany, the then Newbie Council head, and the date was set.
Loril sat that morning in the Western Lounge with her mother Grace and fretted. She had a ring for Grunty but it just didn’t seem adequate. All her attempts to buy one in auction had ended in someone outbidding her. Newbie Council members seldom retain any wealth. She couldn’t fight for one herself and she had so devoted her time to her ‘guys’ that she hadn’t found anyone else to aid her in her quest. A longtime friend, Alexander Trueheart, died thrice that day to get the best ring he could alone – a Draupnir. Loril cried until she laughed and laughed until she cried at the thought of that dear warrior’s sacrifice … his only concern being that he wouldn’t be in time.
More than 100 people were counted on the dock that early evening. Loril was more nervous than on any rescue mission or run. Her hands and knees shaking, her voice at first tremulous soon gave out altogether! Only through immortal intervention was she able to continue and then, catastrophe and evil of evils! (A slanderous note exchanged hands that night but no more will be spoken of that in this missive. Love WILL conquer all and time has proven that with these two) The catastrophe was of world-shattering effect. Some claim the imbalance in the Realms that night – perhaps the weight of that many people (and their gifts, pets, and assorted inventories) so concentrated in one location – caused the world to end as it does at times. Yes, the gods always return the world shortly to some semblance of what it had been but those who are careless (and those too in love to reason) will often lose what they have recently gained. That was the fate of Loril and Grunthos that evening. The world re-built and they were both without their wedding rings.
… but the world continues to turn. Life is a circle, Loril will be the first to remind us. Loril and Grunthos Edelstone were wed and were one and so, were still on their Cloud Nine. Treachery and catastrophe both were forgotten. On they continued, this day helping Stoneheft finish mapping the sewers or Shadowport, that day showing a Little One how to look after himself.
The world was growing and her work took up more and more of her time. Grunthos was impatient for them to settle down. Stoneheft took Grunty’s side and wondered aloud how committed she really was to her family. This was too much for her. The Newbie Council was too busy for her to take much time off. She was torn and soon realized a clean break was the only way to save her marriage and her relationship with her brother. Loril retired from the Newbie Council with heavy heart one fateful night when the guys weren’t around. She carried with her for many years the well-wishes from so many that night and hopes they all know what those words meant that night when her life’s work, it seemed, had come to a full stop.
The circle continued as Loril and Grunthos learned she was with child. Oh glorious and fear-inducing days of preparation! He was born in the hills near Moria and was named Jeltz after a prominant member of Grunty’s home city of Azgoth. Jeltz (who chose a Cleric’s robes like his uncle) never knew his brother Dramar. He was a silly, bouncy and fun-loving youth who brought much pride to his parents. In his teens, Jeltz became insane and, it is believed, took his own life for he was suddenly never seen again.
It was not long before, once again, Loril gave birth to Dramar. This strapping lad chose the life of a Healer and his mother’s breast swelled with pride. She showered him with all manner of gifts and trinkets. Grunty chided her for spoiling the boy and not letting him strengthen and grow on his own. Perhaps he was correct. Perhaps it was just fate. Perhaps, perhaps. But Dramar too lost control of his mind. He was heard yelling long into the small hours that he wanted to die. Then, one day, he too disappeared.
Loril grieves to this day for her two sons. She fears ever having another child and despairs that after this long she may no longer be able … but time passes, and the world moves on, and the circle continues. Stoneheft had neared his ultimate goal of mapping the entire world and was casting about for a new occupation when one day, a Newbie Council member for whom he had great respect approached him about membership. Stoneheft was inducted and shortly thereafter, Jonqualyn and his brilliant wife Mariyah approached Loril as well. She was back home and this time with her beloved brother.
One day, it seemed no time at all later, she was called to the highest opportunity to help these lands. Lascivias, Serina, and Sarah called to her and asked her if she was ready. The circle was complete. It was time. And there, suddenly visible beneath her sandals was the Cloud she had always known was there. It whisked her high above Qetag’s Reach from where she continues to try to find ways to help her beloved Newbies – her Little Ones … and the circle continues.
As readers of this blog will recognize, I often struggle with how I feel about this situation or that and that as often as not my emotions play a significant role in making decisions. I can intellectualize things but at the end of the day it has to feel right or it’s the wrong answer for me.
I have often felt that a number of the rules of the Realms are just flat silly. I think they often overreach, are sometimes unevenly enforced and could be better resolved by an examination of root behaviours. I also understand that in order to resolve those problems would require a tremendous effort and I don’t think anyone wants to spend their recreation time being an amateur lawyer or unpaid babysitter. I generally try to play within the rules by buying into the idea of the “good of the Realms”. If I stake an area endlessly I deprive others of the chance to come get whatever I’m staking. If I flood the market with some piece of equipment just for the sake of driving the price down I devalue the efforts of others trying to accomplish the same goals (though I don’t buy into the economy idea, but that’s a different tirade), if I complain endlessly without trying to find ways to contribute to a solution then I am sapping the energy of others who might want to contribute. These are but a few examples of some of the things I feel work. I posted it when I left the game all those years ago, leave Realms better than you found it. That’s me. I don’t always succeed and to be honest I don’t even always try, but I think I do more good than harm by a long shot.
I feel that I conduct myself honourably… oh wait, let’s back up and define it: Merriam-Webster says that honour is “respect that is given to someone who is admired”, “good reputation, good quality or character as judged by other people”, “high moral standards of behaviour”, “a showing of usually merited respect”, “one’s word given as a guarantee of performance” … it’s very clear that there are many facets of what can be considered as honourable.
Some of the things I do not feel reflect honourably on people or organizations on Realms include frequently being helled for breaking rules, attempting to skirt the rules by arguing against the letter of the rules when the spirit is quite clear, intentionally exploiting other players in bad trades, stealing from donations or organizations … the list goes on but these are some obvious ones. Let’s try a couple more. Caring about improving your organization to the point that you do not care about any detrimental effects you have on other organizations. Attracting people with an expression of friendship and mutual goals but treating them like a warm body instead of a part of the team. Volunteering to spearhead projects or organizations and then disappearing without so much as a word for weeks on end. Picking activities based solely on your goals and gains but not supporting the goals of others who help you accomplish yours. I think those things also fail to meet the social contract for honourable behaviour.
One of the things that has always felt right is promoting camaraderie within the Realms of Despair, especially in the organizations I participate in. Merriam-Webster defines it as “a feeling of good friendship among the people in a group”. There are a variety of definitions but all of them emphasize friendship and either state or imply trust as properties that have to exist.
Contrary to what some might think, I do not come to Realms looking to make new friends that I will have and cherish the rest of my life. Most of my friends on Realms would disappear from my life if they logged out of Realms and never came back. There are a select few who I would know how to get a hold of outside Realms by email or phone but there are very few. I talked a little bit about this before but a recent comment that I want more than some people are willing to give made me realize that perhaps I need to just tone it down a bit. Sure, I know details of lots of people’s lives… marital status, state or province (maybe even city) of residence, number of kids, perhaps – and this is one of those fine lines – I might know their kid’s names … these things are not a big deal to me. It’s just a way of personalizing a line of text into a person instead of a chat program. So to me friendship on Realms is mostly about having people around who I enjoy chatting with, who are interested in some of the same types of game play I am interested in and who I enjoy spending leisure time with. When these people leave Realms I do miss them but the fact is that Realms is what we had in common.
So in general I think if I want to promote camaraderie within Realms then part of that is being at least minimally social. Saying hello at least to my organization when I log in, normally saying good bye, engaging in a little small talk. If I can’t achieve that small amount then I don’t think that I can move past anonymous text to anything like even online friendship. I’ll also say I think that it is very hard to trust anyone that I do not believe behaves in an honourable manner. If they’re willing to screw over others, how long before they screw me over? To me camaraderie requires both aspects, friendship and trust. There are those on Realms who I enjoy associating with but I would never trust. Similarly there are those I feel I can trust but don’t care to associate with.
So why talk about honor and camaraderie? I guess I didn’t like being told that I had excessive expectations of people leading an organization that “stands as a testament to Honor, Comaraderie” and some other stuff by someone who endlessly farms and gets helled for botting when they disappear for 3 weeks without so much as a note saying “hey, we need a break”.
Huh. I got the idea these things were important by people who remember my efforts in organizations like the Guild of Druids 10 years ago who come back and tell me how fondly they remember that game play. I got the idea from the immortals who share their recollections about their experiences.
… but maybe I’m the asshole, won’t be the first time, won’t be the last.
‘Brigida is stunning while running and punning! ‘
She is a female level 50 Half-orc Warrior, 797 years of age.
She is a peaceful player, and belongs to the Order of Baali.
Brigida has accumulated 0 glory in her lifetime.
She has found succor in the deity A’enari.
Brigida’s personal bio:
We trod the Realms, we make our way,
along the trails, all night all day.
Temples forests towers tall,
on and on we search them all.
Untold horrors we espy,
Demons Devils Succubi.
We hope to do what none have done
or win the battle none have won.
the (D)eadly (T)rail may claim a few!
We’ll grieve we’ll mourn, and then review.
It’s not the items I possess, my armor weapons or my dress.
It’s not the sharpness of my wit, or lack thereof of it!
The years have gone, time still moves on.
Yet as I look back in my mind, a single constant there I find.
The things we hunt, remain the same,
Fun Friendship and a stable game.
Thanks Thoric and staff
Do you know anyone with an interesting bio? Mudmail me and I’ll happily honour it here! 🙂