So I've been playing World of Warcraft lately. Apparently, it's a big deal. Who knew?
Now, I'm not a big MMO fan. I tried Asheron's Call out back in 2000, was disillusioned by how many rabbits I had to kill to level up, gave up, and haven't looked back since. But ever since the beginning, World of Warcraft has intrigued me. (I played a lot of Warcraft 2 in my day...) I was excited by the prospect of exploring Azeroth, but never got into it because of the cost and the fact that, at the end of the day, I'm a fairly anti-social gamer...
But then I got a free year subscription and DavidCinner, Blood Elf warlock, was born.
My experience so far has been fairly positive. I get bored a lot, but I'm told that's because I'm questing in five year old zones... Today, though, was really interesting.
I've been spending quite a lot of time in what's called the Ghostlands, trying to reclaim once-beautiful elven territory from the Undead Scourge. Naturally, this forest was once beautiful. Now, it's never bright, even at midday. There are creepy glowing goopy things all over the place. Everywhere you go, there's some ruined building that's now filled with zombies or something evil and mean. In fact, there's even a giant scar dividing the zone in half where the Scourge first invaded. When I arrived, I was surprised to find that the elves have allied themselves with the sorta-kinda-good undead people - the Forsaken. I mean, I know we need their help, but still. Gross.
In fact, I had zipped over to another zone for a while to a Forsaken war front. I was so disgusted by their tactics, their attitude, their city (The Undercity is terribly difficult to navigate...), and their, you know, smelly, gross, falling-off flesh, that I gave up. I turned back and stopped helping them. I was not going to contribute to the genocide of largely innocent people. In general, I do not like the Forsaken.
But back in the Ghostlands, we needed their help. So I accepted their quests. I did what they wanted me to. And slowly, my resolve to not do some things in the game lessened. My attitude toward the Forsaken slowly changed. I was just doing what needed to be done, right?
Eventually, my quests led me back to the elven capital city:
Big difference, right? I was almost sad to return to Silvermoon, oddly enough. The compromises I had made, the person I had become... I had forgotten the reason I was fighting this war in the first place - to protect this city and these people.
I don't want to sound crazy. The measurement of these feelings was rather small compared to the real life version of those thoughts. But still. I thought it was poignant. While I was in the Ghostlands, I was willing to do anything for my cause, but it was just a self-perpetuating war machine kind of cause. When I returned to civilization after what I had done, I felt a little guilty.
It's like in so many stories before: in trying to protect humanity, I chose to act inhumanely. Or in-elf-ly. Or something.
