I’ve thought long and hard about how to write this letter and I just can’t think of a nicer way to put it: I’m leaving you. Wait, before you get upset and say that I didn’t give you enough of a chance, I need you to hear me out. This past month and change has been a lot of fun; for both of us, I think. Your new player introduction is nicely framed as an entry to the game in a way I didn’t even realize I was in a tutorial instance for a while, which is not something I can say happens often. You know you’re not the first, but you were the best in that aspect. It was just you and I, but that’s what was almost magical, in a non-wizardly way of course due to lore, about it. And when you gave me my first title after just a little while together…I really felt touched.
Once I entered your world proper, my young newbie eyes were dazzled by your graphics, which were back to a more “real” than the cartoony world of Azeroth I’d recently made my home in, and I enjoyed it. Your spellcasting animations were clever, and the tradeskill animations made me laugh out loud. Oh, the tradeskills. When I first found them, I’ll admit that all you laid out for me floored me. A virtual craftgasm. Stuff I could craft, at my level, that was actually useful! As I leveled them up…it began to hurt, and at the end, well, I was reduced to begging in the trade channel and to passersby for skill ups – I’m ashamed, but I was that desperate. The sad thing I was not alone. But even as we shouted out to the passersby “Forester looking for a skill up, boiling hides here!” or “Tailored goods, your hides, my skill!” we…I…was still faithful. I knew it was just a phase, just an aspect of you. I knew that on other facets you still were there when I needed you, making me happy.
But as time wore on, it seemed you grew tired of my company, of our one on one time; our special time. No longer were you content with our long walks in the Old Forest, or even along the beaches of Evendim. No, you wanted for me to get into this “group” thing. I’ll admit, sometimes it was fun. We’d storm through the catacombs or over the land, the names of those with us varying, and have a good time. There were those times where one of our groupmates would mysteriously go LD after winning a nice item or finishing his quest, but I stood by you and kept going, knowing that after this instance we’d be out alone again, just you me and one of a hundred varieties of orcs, birds, or goblins, killing another hundred or two or three, another deed, just me and you. I’m not sure how you told them all apart as they all looked similar to me, but I never minded; I never complained. We’d start a nice quest line, you showing me a tasty sample of what lie at the end only to make the final step involve an elite signature flaming eye circle mob with 4x my hit points and hitting for tons of damage despite being grey, and thus force me to beg for another two or three to join us. Sure I felt a little used, but I was willing, eager even, as you led me on. As our time here neared the end, I really began to tire of it, but I kept on, hoping it would change. It never did.
But what finally has pushed me away has be how we interacted with each other. Every tree limb or spider web, every mound of dirt, sometimes even what seemed to be a blade of grass would come between us and suddenly you’d cry out “not in line of sight”. I could see clearly, and the monsters could see me as they’d hit on me, but yet you said they were not in view. How could you be so blind? This was one thing that drove me away, but there were other issues. Perhaps it was the frequent stutter step video feed you’d give me, or how I’d be walking around and suddenly be stuck in place, yet able to chat, and seeing others in similar straits. Perhaps it was how my pet seemed unable to follow me unless I ran in a straight line across level ground, yet you had gorgeous rolling hills, thus causing him to wander off, agroing dozens of monsters while coming to me. Perhaps it was your tech support whose effectiveness in fixing my issues could be compared to a paper umbrella in a hurricane and with a response speed rivaled only by tetonic movement. Perhaps it was all of these, I don’t know which it was that finally did it for me, but I…just can’t take the pain anymore. It’s not fair to me, and not fair to you. My friends agree, as paying someone to be cruel to you is just not a good idea, although there are places where you can do so apparently, but that’s not up for discussion. It’s time for me to move on.
I know normally that people say that it’s not you, and that it’s me, but you have to know, that it is you. It is. It’s not me this time. So I’m taking my crafting tools and leaving. I’ll leave you that hat collection you gave me – I know I said I liked them at the time, but I hated them. All the hats look…weird. Don’t be sad, we had good times together. I mean, we’ll always have Ered Luin, right? Perhaps sometime in the future, when you’ve had a chance to grow and mature as an MMORPG we can try this again. I won’t say never. Anything is possible, after all.