Monthly Feature:
My PC and Sony Are Trying to Kill Me!
(or How EverQuest ® II Showed Me the Holiday Spirit)
December, 2004
 Even War and Peace and a mug of Starbucks can't compete with Sony |
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This month, another year draws to a close. For many of us, 2004 was a terrible year: the guild saw job losses, the deaths of loved ones, dissolutions of marriages, and accidents. Each life change, though, brings with it the promise of a new chapter, and the heartaches and disappointments shared among our members helped remind each of us of why The Echelon is a community, not just an ingame group under a common name.
All too often, though, we forget that and fail to see both our value to each other and the reasons why most of us play MMORPGs. In this issue of the Monthly Feature, Flippandra tells how the aggravations of EverQuest II ultimately and unexpectedly reminded her of both the holiday spirit and the true joy to be found in a silly, online game — even if it takes her PC three years to load the zones. |
August, 2004
It was all Klar's fault, really. All of it began about three years ago when he first started recollecting his EverQuest experiences with Relenore. There were fantastic tales of rare, exotic armor, camping areas for nearly 48 hours straight without sleep, and needing to use sewer systems to infiltrate enemy cities. Coming from a strictly single-player experience, I was floored. And like every other American, I just knew that if "1" of anything is good, then "2" will be absolutely phenomenal. The stars, tea leaves, and newspaper horoscopes all proclaimed that EverQuest II would be the second-coming of the gaming world.
As the release date for EverQuest II came nearer and nearer, I was wallowing in contentment and exuberant self-confidence. I was cocky. I admit it. And who wouldn't be? I had blazed through Thief™ III: Deadly Shadows and Doom™ III. My PC was a god — that summer I had pushed it to its limit, and it ate every game I threw at it for breakfast. My gaming equipment was an unstoppable, snarling beast of raw power.
Mid-month, I stopped in EBX to see the EverQuest II preorder box. It was not hard to find — perched on the top shelf of the New Releases, it shimmered in the golden light of divine blessing, a king among games. I reverently held the package in my trembling hands and turned the beautiful, full-color, varnished box over and over. Sweet promises of heavenly gaming beamed back at me: "WHERE ADVENTURE COMES ALIVE!" "UNPRECEDENTED VOICEOVER FOR MOST NON-PLAYABLE CHARACTERS!" "ADVANCED PLAYER-OWNED REAL ESTATE, INCLUDING APARTMENTS, HOMES, AND GUILD HOUSES!" "ENCOUNTER HUNDREDS OF MYTHIC CREATURES, FEARSOME MONSTERS, AND BREATHTAKING WONDERS!" YES! I thought, hugging the box against my heart. Sony, take me away! Then holding the package aloft, I grinned back at Lucan deLere. Yes, you will be mine, handsome Mr. Bad Guy. I will own this game. And I returned the box to the shelf. After all, I was planning to buy the Collector's Edition: I wanted it all — baby dragon, boots, a soundtrack. There was plenty of time.
That afternoon, I pulled into my driveway to see the new neighbors next door dragging more demolition trash into the rented dumpster. The older couple doing the manual labor were the parents of the house's new owner: they had bought the property in cash and were restoring it for their daughter, who seemed to only stop by when she had a fabric or paint swatch to check against the hardwood floors. Lucky little brat.
As I walked out of the garage, the mother beckoned me over. "Would you mind mowing this the next time you do your lawn?" She gestured disdainfully at the grass in front of her daughter's house. I raised my eyebrows. Excuse me? Did she just ask me to do yard work for her daughter?! What's wrong with her daughter? The last two summers I had spent mowing both lawns on either side of my property: one for a lady who had entered a nursing home and one for the vacant property. A nice perk to getting a new next-door neighbor was not having to mow one extra lawn anymore. Obviously, I could cross that one off the list — I have never been good at refusing anything, so this patch of grass was parenthetically mine again for four months of the year. I smiled slightly through gritted teeth, said something noncommittal, and headed toward my front door. I had EverQuest II on the brain, anyway.
September, 2004
I signed up for every EverQuest II beta contest and drawing I could find. I was like one of those blue-haired retirees who spends afternoons in front of daytime talk show television filling out sweepstakes entries for everything from a Ford SUV to free packages of Swiffer refills. It was an obsession. Every day, another guild member posted news of his or her acceptance into the beta program, and I was growing frantic.
Theregon, my longtime gaming buddy, continued to reassure me. "Don't worry. If you don't get in, it's only two months until full retail launch. Everybody will be there then." We had decided EverQuest II would be the next big game for us, and he continued to offer some comfort that not being part of the testing phase would in no way ruin the retail gaming experience.
"You don't understand!" I pleaded. After all, he was in the beta himself and could not possibly see it from my point of view. "Everyone will know where to go and what to do! I'll never be able to catch up! I need to be able to keep pace with everyone!"
In front of me, my PC cpu growled and frothed like a Rotweiler straining at its chain. Soon, the beta phase would be closed, and I would be shut out of that most elite, most coveted gaming experience, left miserable and lonely outside the locked door. Down boy! I patted the cpu nervously. It was, after all, tough to keep that much power under control. With no other games to play at the moment, my PC was like a ticking time bomb, surging with energy. Its performance in Doom III left both of us giddy with anticipation, and the constant letdowns of no acceptances to the beta phase were souring that excitement into bitter frustration.
My PC glared at me evilly with its single, green LED.
October, 2004
The Guild Wars World Preview Event! What a rush! As expected, my PC handled it incredibly — no crashes, no stuttering, no lag. It purred along happily through combat and crowded towns. I grinned. EverQuest II is going to be amazing. Theregon shared the excitement: "Just think what EverQuest II is going to be like!" Even my PC seemed momentarily pleased.
Upon returning home from work one day mid-month, I stopped to pick up the trash can lid and suddenly stared blankly at the lawn. I had nearly stepped in a dog dropping. A large one. I blinked. Where'd THAT come from? There are no dogs in my neighborhood. As my gaze wandered, I saw another and another. My whole front lawn was littered with large dog dookies. Frowning, I looked over my shoulder at the house next door. A big, brown and white mutt sat contentedly on the front step of the porch, looking at me happily with a great pink tongue lolling out the side of his goofy grin. I looked stupidly from the dog to my lawn and back to the dog again. She walks her dog on my property and doesn't pick up its droppings? I held my breath for a moment. I needed to mow my lawn one last time for the season — I only own a push mower — and still had to start raking leaves. Great. This was going to be like navigating a landmine field. As I headed for my mailbox, I found myself planning a covert ops run that night in black clothing, shoveling doggie dookie from my grass to my neighbor's grass in quick little flips of the spade before making a run for my house lest anyone saw. All thoughts leaked out my ear, though, as I pulled out a thin package from EBGames.com: my EverQuest II preorder package had arrived! I clutched it happily to my chest, like some love letter from an enlisted fiance overseas, then ran inside.
I plopped in front of my PC and gleefully installed the EverQuest II character generation application. My first taste of the King of Games! I was about to lift my spirit to the next plane! I was about to join the ranks of the truly elite! I double-clicked the EverQuest II Character Generation Tool. My screen went black as the sweeping strings began. And my screen stayed black. I stared patiently, listening to the music. More blackness. Hey — no problem. I held down [CTR] [ALT] and [DELETE]. Nothing. Wincing, I pressed the power switch on the cpu. Nothing. You have to be kidding me. I got down on my hands and knees and yanked the power plug out of the outlet. I returned to my seat and nodded to myself. No sweat. I hadn't rebooted in a while. That's all. I patted the PC reassuringly. No big deal, baby. We can run it now. The PC just gave me the evil, green eye. I swallowed and double-clicked the EverQuest II Character Generation Tool again. More music. More blackness. No Character Generation Tool. I blinked. Uh oh.
The next day, I stopped in Klar's office after a meeting. "I can't run the EverQuest II Character Generation Tool! It keeps crashing! I don't know what I'm going to do!" I tried to keep the panic and tension out of my voice, but I knew my wild-eyed look gave me away. My PC needed this game!
Klar frowned at me. "So what? Doesn't mean the client won't work. They don't have anything to do with each other." I must have audibly wimpered in despair, because he seemed to decide to throw me a bone. "Make sure your video drivers are up to date. That's probably all it is." I nodded and hoped it would work.
That night, I updated the video drivers. I updated my audio drivers. I rebooted again. More blackness. This did not bode well at all. I had ascended the steps into that golden light of most excellent games only to lose my footing and slip off the top steps. My PC stared in evil silence at me, lurking like some horrible black beast, but I did not have time for troubleshooting tonight. It was Halloween, and I needed to head out in my usual Lara Croft regalia. I was late. I ran to the garage, pulled out the car, and jumped out to pull the garage door down, when I heard my name shouted. Turning to my right, I saw my neighbors on the front porch.
"You know, I've been saying your name over and over again, and you just ignored me!" My neighbor's mother spoke in muffled tones through a respirator mask, her hands on her hips. Even now, having heard to pay attention, I could barely make out what she was saying.
"Hello there! I'm sorry. I hadn't heard you." I waved cheerfully and hopped back in the car, grumbling to myself about cruddy preorder promotional applications and cranky neighbors.
November, 2004
The first official Guild Wars beta weekend. EverQuest II would be arriving on Monday or Tuesday, so this was the last big hurrah.
"Almost there, Flippy!" Theregon said.
Monday came. No package. Tuesday came. No package. I was breathless with nervousness. Where was it? Wednesday brought an email message.
| Subject: | Your EverQuest II Collector's edition order with EBgames.com |
| Date: | Wed, 10 Nov 2004 13:40:13 -0500 |
| From: | "EBGames" |
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Dear Valued EBgames.com Customer, We are writing to make you aware of a delay with your EverQuest II Collector's Edition order. Due to circumstances beyond the control of EB Games we received fewer copies than expected, causing the delay of some orders, including yours. We expect another shipment of this game Thursday and, as soon as we receive it, we will process your order. We at EB Games are gamers ourselves and we know how difficult it can be to receive a game late, particularly an MMO like EverQuest II. As soon as these arrive at our warehouse they will receive our highest priority. Again, we apologize for this delay. If you have any questions regarding your order you can reply to this email or give us a call, toll free, at (877) 432-9675. We are here from 8:00 AM to Midnight, EST, seven days a week.
Best Regards,
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I read the message again. And again. Is this a joke? Of course not. Moron that I was, I had ordered my Collector's Edition so late that I did not qualify to be one of the first recipients. Now I had to wait. People were already playing. Some guild members posted that they were already level 10 or higher. I hung my head in my hands. This was terrible. I looked up at my PC. If looks could kill, I would have been dead from that single, green LED.
Friday landed the game in my hands, but I only stared at it in dread. I never did get the Character Generation Tool working. Would this even run? I looked at the PC in fear. It stared back.
I ran the installation and started the registration process. "We're sorry. Your session has timed out." The error message appeared again and again, over and over. This is insane! Balek and Sona were performing their own installations at the same time and made the mistake of asking how mine was going.
"#%^&^*%%^#$@# GAME!!" I wrote back. I could feel a terrible headache developing.
"Um..." Balek typed. "Just keep trying — there are a ton of people trying to log in and register now."
After an hour, I got to the character generation screen. Thankfully, it worked. Finally — at the edge of gaming Nirvana. I got in and raced miserably through the starter area. Enough of this, I thought. I need to catch up! I need to get this working in a town!
I chose Qeynos and grinned eagerly. Then the city loaded.
Flippandra would not move. She remained firmly cemented to the ground as characters shuffled herky-jerky around her. I turned the graphics as far down as possible, then stared in horror at the characters on the screen. The faces were gone! Textures disappeared at small distances. In disgust, I logged out for a few hours. Later, when Deez came online, I returned for a few minutes, hoping that the peak North American play time had passed. Now I would feel the full power of my killer rig! No change. As he jogged his character to where Flippandra stood by the inn door, I wrinkled my nose in revulsion at the peculiar, smeared character faces which the low graphics setting created. Flippandra moved in painfully slow motion. "I simply can't play this," I typed in dismay to Deez.
What's wrong with the textures on that armor?
Good grief! What's wrong with your face, man?!
The next day, I logged in again with a suspicious glance at that evil green LED on my PC. "You're supposed to run this just fine!" I wagged my finger at it. "Come on! You ran Doom III! Don't be such a drama queen!" The evil green LED just stared steadily at me. I gulped.
For six hours, I fought deer after deer, trying desperately to catch up. Theregon offered upbeat and cheerful conversation, reminiscing about Horizons and City of Heroes, but my spirits sank further and further and I bristled in frustration. Everything was a struggle in this game. We attempted to get a group together and tried to pick up quests in the heart of Qeynos, but it was hopeless for my testy PC. It grinded and grinded like a coffee mill, limping along like a toothless old rat terrier rather than the snarling Rotweiler I had come to love. "YOU HATE ME!" I hollered at the cpu. "WHAT THE HECK DID I EVER DO TO YOU?!" It just glared at me sourly with that single green eye.
Qeynos brought my PC to a full stop — a whopping one frame per three seconds framerate. As I crossed into the South Qeynos zone, it locked and froze, playing two pieces of symphonic music at once for over ten minutes before crashing completely.
"ARRRGGGHHHH!!!" I typed in ICQ to Eisenhorn.
"??" was his confused response as I chucked the EverQuest II DVDs into their tin and ran to my bedroom window. I'll fix your wagon, Sony! I thought furiously, throwing open the window and whipping the tin behind me to get enough inertia to wing it all the way into the street. Maybe someone would drive over it. Perfect. I would drag my cruddy PC downstairs and toss it on the concrete porch floor, sit on it, and sip red wine while watching the EverQuest II tin get flattened like a pancake. Then I'll jump around all over your corpses, giggling like a hyena! Serves you both right for trying to give me an aneurysm!
"HELLO!" Called out my neighbors, mistaking my enraged, outstretched arm for a wave. I blinked in embarrassment, smiled, and quickly closed the window, getting a grip over myself.
I took a deep breath and restarted the game.
"Hey-" began Theregon.
My blood pressure surged again. "OMG! I hate this @#$% game! How can you play it?! It's the biggest letdown I've ever had! I blew over $100 on this stupid Collector's Edition and I can't stand it! To upgrade my graphics card and memory enough to play this stupid game, I'm looking at buying a whole new PC! Qeynos is like running through a quagmire! It takes at least 5 minutes to load a zone! The sprites are unbelievably ugly, even at high resolutions! The music is absolutely grating on my nerves! I have to crank the resolution down so low that I can't see faces on any of the characters!"
"Is there ANYTHING about the game you DO like?!" he shot back.
"Yeah! YOU!" I typed then stopped, my finger paused on the [ENTER] key.
That was it. That was what I was missing.
I had never played an MMORPG for the graphics or the game play or the music. After all, I was a single-player gamer. As far as a game was concerned, I was happiest with the likes of Morrowind or Thief III: Deadly Shadows. No. I played MMORPGs to be with the people in the guild. I played to visit with Theregon and hear him make cheesy Beetles jokes with Dav. I played to see Adywen, Balek, and Sona toss silly innuendos around. I played to hear Ceyex talk about Alcyone's cooking. I played to watch Klar spam the guild chat with questions about arcane quests that absolutely no one else had attempted until Relenore replied, "what ARE you babbling about?" I played to be available to other new players if they needed company or help. It was never about the PC, the graphics performance, or the leveling. It never had been. I had gotten caught in the marketing and industry raves about the beauty of the game, and it nearly cost me my most precious reason for playing.
Suddenly, I smiled to myself. That green LED did not look nearly as sinister now, and maybe the music was pretty nice after all.
"Can we try another area? I have a lot of trouble running this in town."
December, 2004
EverQuest II still crashes on me. The characters are still missing faces. Flippandra still runs like a hippopotamus in hip-deep cement. But I am surrounded by people who have remained together through a year's worth of good and bad times, people who share a common hobby, and people whose friendships transcend the online medium, and that makes game sessions priceless — even if it does take my PC three years to load the zones.
 Flippandra with a bit more meat on her bones. |
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Flippandra is a Senior Web Content Developer/Designer with a small pharmaceutical company in the Northeast. |