It was a world-class political pep rally. The auditorium was filled with millions of people, and cameras were arrayed in regular positions to capture the action up on the stage. The candidates sat in two elite groups on the stage, people worth millions of dollars, the object of attention of the nation and the world, dressed in finery and beaming reassuring smiles for appearance. There was only one person out of place, a dark-skinned carpenter meekly reinforcing the podium nearby, doing his best to assure that nothing went wrong on the stage he built.
But something did go wrong that day. There was the matter of testing the cluster of microphones at the podium, and neither candidate wanted the other to be the first to address the mass of people. Behind their smiles there was much silent bickering between the two as they tried to find somebody harmless enough to perform this important task.
They finally agreed that the person to do it was the carpenter, who appeared to them to be little more than a hard-working fool, and not sly politicians like themselves. “Just be sure to say something significant,” they joked, “after all, it’s not every day you get to address the world.” The candidates set back with mischievous smirks on their faces, curious how this would turn out.
The carpenter put down his hammer and nails and thought to himself a moment. Finally, he stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat, and said:
“A lot of us have belief structures that place a great deal of importance on the afterlife. Maybe it is pretty important. However, I want everybody out there to realize just how amazing it is that cosmic dust, which we all are made up of, has sat up and gained awareness. Life, which we’re all a part of, is a miracle in itself. It may be the only genuine miracle in which we ever see. Yet, every time we’re depressed, every time we’re worried about our financial situation, every time we say a hurtful word to another, and every time we go to war – these and other things – we have forgotten just how miraculous life is. Each and every one of us, when someday we’re only moments from death, will probably only have one wish on our minds, and that is that we would again have the opportunity to be a part of this miracle we’re experiencing right now. We should probably live accordingly.”
Spent, the carpenter stepped back from the microphone, and smiled a wistful smile to himself. He knew what was coming next, but had decided it didn’t particularly matter, the result would be the same for him in the long run. The candidates were outraged, not only because what he said trivialized what they were planning on discussing, but also because war was on the agenda. It was a relatively easy matter to see that the carpenter was captured and tried as a terrorist and, in the end, he was hung by rope from a cross of wood.
Filed under: Original Fiction | 3 Comments »
Digitally Staving Off Boredom 
My gaming stories can illustrate a point. For example, in The Rat Trap, Bruxx can be found sitting about a tavern tilting back an ale. Suddenly, he’s ambushed by bounty hunters from Freeport, and a tricky battle of wits and agility results in a surprise ending. This could never happen in EverQuest 2, and the differences between the game and the story outline the weakness in this and perhaps every MMORPG when it comes to being a a storytelling device.
Bruxx would not be found tilting back an ale in the inns of EverQuest 2 because the functionality simply isn’t there. There’s no reason to carouse within the game. This is a relatively minor thing, but it should be pointed out that same games such as Star Wars Galaxies have simply added reasons to frequent places for the characters to unwind. In doing so, those games have supported this kind of storytelling.
Bruxx, an accomplished Swashbuckler, does have a number of mechanisms in EverQuest 2 to engage in a “tricky battle of wits and agility.” However, the execution is limited by technical aspects. There is no catapulting arresting Barbarians into tables in EverQuest 2. Some First Person Shooters, such as Dark Messiah of Might and Magic, have gone far in simulating this. However, all an RPG has to do is symbolize it, and that this has not been done in most MMORPGs can be found as a weakness in that kind of storytelling.
Perhaps the most severe limitation of the MMORPG as a storytelling device is exposed is when Bruxx was ambushed by bounty hunters from Freeport, the definitively evil city in which he was once a member and defected from. That never happens in EverQuest 2 because players would complain that their gameplay experience has been interrupted. However, if the players will not allow the developers go over that line, something major is lost.
I would argue that, without the possibility existing that you can be even minorly inconvenienced by something, it’s impossible to participate in a story. This is because fundamental required elements of a story go missing. Many elements are commonly found in CRPGs, such as: setting, plot, characters, point of view, and time. However, what of the most important elements: Conflict and Resolution? When everything in a virtual world exists as a non-conflict, in order to not inconvenience the player, then there is nothing to resolve. There is no true conflict in this story, and so there can also be no real resolution.
In catering to the players’ dislike of inconvenience, the storytelling potential has broken. Thus, without even realizing it, players who have insisted it’s simply not enjoyable to endure things such as “impeded trading services” (the local inn burns down because they were unable to slay a dragon) or “death penalties” (facing some consequence for being defeated in battle) have effectively goaded MMORPG developers into creating games that are unable to tell a story.
Just once, I would like to see a MMORPG ballsy enough to force players to deal with meaningful consequences for their actions or inaction. To these ends, I created a certain City of Heroes thread. It should be interesting to see how the playerbase responds. I’m predicting that most of them are too afraid of negative gameplay impact to permit anything of meaningful consequence to occur. Some people would say that this means games don’t need meaningful consequence, but I’m arguing the other side right now, which is that players have lost something extremely important and don’t realize it.
In the future, I’ll continue to write stories not only for the enjoyment of the reader and writer but also because stories demonstrate the fundamental flaws behind CRPGs without even trying. Is it punditry or entertainment? It’s both.