I dim the lights and slip on the headphones.
I know I have a couple hours before anyone notices that I’m not just out here “checking my email,” but I’m still jumpy.
I spin around fast on the swivel chair…just the wind.
I have reason to be jumpy.
Tonight, I’m creating a horde character.
My roommate hates the horde so much, that once when I mentioned half-in-jest, half-testing-the-waters “What if I created an alt horde character?” He nearly punched me right in the mouth.
When playing the game and getting camped, gang raped, and killed by horde 50 levels above me, I’ve often wondered in a nerdy-Seinfeldian voice “Who are these people?”
Once when I was a ghost, I ran back to my body where a horde was camping me, and I saw him transform into a Bear and press the “X” key to “sit down” on my body — a gesture that not-too-subtly looks like he was having relations with my corpse.
Then, since the horde can’t communicate using understandable language, he /mourned me, and even through the stale, generated text I could hear the sarcasm, and I’ll tell you that I sure shook my fist in the air over that one.
But who are these horde? They’re real people somewhere.
What alliances to they have with each other, if any?
Do they even operate on a Honor System, or do they just Keyser Soze the place up?
Well, surely everyone would understand if I went to try it out, on a purely scientific basis.
So tonight, as I was talking to my roommate, all I could think about was how I would execute my plan. I’d wait till he fell asleep, then I’d chloroform him under my pillow.
Too drastic. Plus, I have to sleep on that pillow later, and at some point after that, wake up.
I waited until he was tucked into bed, and I sneaked out to the living room under the pretense of checking the gmail.
As I waited for the game to load, I suddenly remembered that it was Tuesday, and I surely had a new rank on my main character from all my horde killings of the past week.
The nonsarcastic /mourn over my soon-to-be brethren typed on the chat interface of my mind was quickly replaced by a /cheer as I ached to click on my character to see my new rank.
“One second won’t hurt,” I thought. “Then I’ll sign off.”
I awoke in the Wetlands and was pleased to find that I was now a Private. But how could I boast it? Perhaps my old late-night chums were all in Battlegrounds, and I could show off my newfound rank to anyone levels 21 to 30!
Plus, Ironforge is just a quick griffon over…
So I enter Battlegrounds, upset to see that my usual comrades, Knives, Dinnen, and Question, were nowhere to be found, replaced by a couple colorful characters who I guessed had an average age of 13 and a combined IQ of my Night Elf’s rank. They also seemed to have their caps locks stuck toggled in the “yell like retards position,” probably by the sticky Dr. Pepper that keeps them awake instead of going to bed like people who have lives. Hah!
Wait a second…
One in particular liked to yell how no one was on “D,” as I stood in the defensive position with about 4 other people shrugging at each other, while yet another liked to yell about how we’re all (not an exaggeration) faguits.
The horde could have sneaked into our base dressed as fucking landsharks and custodians, because everyone was too busy typing angrily about how we should “SOTP YELLING AT EACHOTHER U FAGUITS.”
Sometimes I wish PVP meant ALL PVP.
Right after the horde stole our last flag, one of the particularly cruel faguits mentioned within the raid chat that that’s why he hates the fucking alliance.
Wh- Someone ELSE has thought of having two characters of opposing sides?
And he’s a jerk! Were all the horde like this?
I tried not to be racist and signed onto yet another BG, but it was just the same jerks, complaining about how much they hated each other and wondering why we were losing.
I hearthed home and camped.
Did I really want to get myself into this?
I did. I must know what they know. Perhaps…perhaps I can learn their secrets and exploit them for personal gain!
I started creating a character. The Tauren looked too butch, and the undead seriously frightened me, so I picked the hottest Troll I could and made her a shaman, because she had on the prettiest dress.
It was so cute, I nearly had a tea party right there.
But online gaming is no place for actions like that.
Picking the name was no problem, since I had already picked it hours earlier while my roommate was talking about dilithium crystals or some crap.
In a world where every horde I met was “DeathSkullBlood” and “VengeanceReaper,” I decided that no name was better to instill fear and to provoke someone to angrily curse than to be killed by someone named “CuddlyKitten.”
Click to complete…aaaand error. Apparently, I can’t have Alliance and Horde characters on the same server. I try to memorize the facial characteristics I chose for my character as I hit the back key to pick another server.
I quickly signed on AIM to see if any of my friends were on that were always asking me to join their server. Nothing says “thanks for being my online friend” like an ax through the forehead by a cuddly kitten.
No luck. Everyone’s asleep. Like faguits.
I pick the most hardcore sounding server (it was either “ReaperDeathSkull” or “VengeanceBlood”) and patiently waited for the connect screen. For five minutes.
Well, I knew they were doing maintenance on a bunch of servers, so I picked another. And another.
The entire world was down. And now I’m about to go to bed.
It seems Elune herself is trying to keep me from turning to the dark side.
I dim the lights and slip on the headphones.