Tis the season, as they say, when by long-standing social custom in Western countries’ real life tends to assume the worst characteristics of MMOs. Both rigidly enforce participating in communal activities and screaming kids; both entail careful advance planning and the occasional wipe; both expect you to travel outrageous distances to socialise with people whom you normally wouldn’t, all to trade trinkets and clothing in an effort to ‘level up’.
Yet while no one in secular societies is yet allowed to formally break up with Christmas, MMO-playing does seem to be on the decline, only a year following the release of Wrath Of The Lich King. And though Blizzard continues to tout accurate-sounding, record-breaking subscription numbers (without of course actually verifying that said numbers are capable of even being methodically calculated, what with MMO business models being so complexly arcane and all), anecdotal evidence suggests many of the formerly thriving WOW servers are looking increasingly desolate. Granted, this seeming statistical disparity may very well merely reflect absentmindedness or possibly lingering maternal reluctance: for a modest monthly outlay, you are, after all, keeping your character ‘alive’ in a sense.
Then again, maybe more people are simply discovering that one chief appeal MMO-wise is being done with it. Suddenly you rediscover the tactile world. Your old mates, and the weather are back, along with that half-eaten takeaway lying on your bedsheets ever since that night you hit level 75. Suddenly an hour feels like an hour again. Suddenly you recall the smell of the opposite sex, books and sleep and taking a stroll amid the lava streams without fear of getting ganked. Clearly the only rational alternative for game companies is to produce an all-new, more addictive MMO as far removed in every way from WOW’s time-tested conventions as the marketplace will support. Something with a name evoking mystic atmosphere like Interminable Journeys. One, wherein the length of time and difficulty of leveling up characters grows easier, giving players infinitely more to look forward to. Level 2, for instance, would take a squad of seasoned gold farmers working in shifts maybe three years, level 60 a single kill, 70 just a quick patch install.
Instead of revolving around globespanning commutes, all 11 million players would be ingeniously crammed into a single wireframe 10’x10’ grey cube. No grinding, just PvP. No weapons, just groin-kicks. Gold but no merchants. No gear except for one item, a Loincloth of Flames that can be worn by the first fanatical subscriber to pre-order, log in, and picks it up, rendering him invincible, and will remain affixed to his avatar until he logs off. Which, if he’s smart, will be never. Game industry, you’re welcome.
By Kelly Wand: Total PC Gaming Magazine
Comments (0)