With nothing but a Small Pointy Stick to my name, I decide to throw in the towel. Adventuring is not for me. I'm obviously monster material, though, given my willingness to engage anything that moves. So I go back to booth and get my monster papers sorted. Within minutes, a newly spawned Alien (who /cons Medium/Tough) was patrolling the premises, eager to pwn some helpless nubs. Now if only one would attack me...
15 minutes of me walking around the ConfQuest booth pass (most of the "action" seemed to be confined to this spot, incidentally), without an encounter. By this point, most of the active players were either too high level to bother with me, or too low level to dare to. You see, just like in a real MMORPG, the early adopters got a jump on things and formed alliances from the get-go. Their supremacy was immediately established, and the ¿ber clans of ConfQuest were born. Turns out I was worth even less of their time as a monster than I was as a player; to spend resources messing with me would have been counterproductive.
"The character creation went off without a hitch. The inferface was clean, and streamlined."
I soldiered on through the rest of the conference with my monster tag proudly displayed, and my "On-Duty" tag hanging prominently from my badge holder. As a monster, I meant business. I thought I did, anyway, until I actually encountered my first party. Another set of students I'm presuming, given their age, but whatever. I wanted to see some action, and action I did see. I drew my monster card; it read "50." A beefy sum, I was thinking, but as you've probably surmised, it was summarily dwarfed by the one they collectively produced. I was destroyed. They took my loot and walked off. I later encountered a second party, and again, I got my ass kicked handily. Damn, I sucked in ConfQuest.
But no matter. I had fun playing it, and it was amusing to observe those who were actually playing good. Just like in real MMORPG. I don't think I could be part of an ¿ber guild anymore. It's just too much of a commitment. But I sure do love reading these guilds' forums, checking out their raid strategies in detail, poring over the makeup of their parties, and drooling over the kind of loot I'll probably never see again. Unless I win the lottery, but that's a conversation I should be having with God.
Sometimes in MMORPGs, my characters have stupid names, and this sometimes prevents players from partying with me. I guess in real life I must have a stupid face that encourages the same reaction, as ConfQuest proved true. But no matter. I'll be back next year, and I half-heartily vow to become the leetest possible in whatever GameLab decides to cook up for the show.
