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=====Start Dialogue =====
As I sit here at my old wooden desk listening to fire crackling, the flames dart to and fro in thier chaotic visual symphony and the smell of oil from the torches permiates the room. I am reminded, like the strugling fire that all things come to an end, and even the most meek will fight to bitter ends in hopes that there is a greater power than they themselves can fathom.
Looking across my desk at the newest generations of warriors and would be heros, my mind is filled with the memories of times almost forgotten that seem too long ago to even be called myth. These men and women that stand before me sweat slightly, looking foward at the wall behind me doing thier best to appear calm and confident in thier agenda for whatever purpose they signed up for.
This new breed of soldiers and hopeful legends are soft and weak. They slouch when even they try to stand straight. They sweat at the effort of just trying to control thier breathing. Thier bodies and minds are not prepared for what lie ahead though they have already had thier base training.
I can see in thier eyes that they long for the glory and riches of victory, but do not wish to put forth the effort and suffering that it takes from years of learning and sweat and blood to aquire such rewards. Looking at these men and women before me, I am filled with despair and regret that the age of immersion and depth may soon be coming to a close.
Though warriors and soldiers of good cause will very seldom admit it, they fight not because they seek glory or riches or fame. They fight not for the joy of killing or conquest, but in hopes that if they fight hard and long enough perhaps there will come a day when there will be no enemies left to fight and they will no longer have to. Soldiers and Warriors above all know the cost of killing and long for days of peace where thier children and loved ones can live in a world unscathed by darkness and oppression
As I shift foward the battle hardened, leather straps that hold together the pieces of my long time trusted steel plate creek filling the room with a sense of forlorn and untiold discipline.
"You", I say to one of the larger men standing before me. "What do you seek?" "Glory my lord", he answers with sureness that could stop even the strongest of bulls.
Absently looking to another, I ask the same question. "Glory my lord, and riches", she answers with anticipation.
"And you sir?" I question further down the line. "My lord", he says with well practiced confidence, "I seek victory and honor for my kingdom." I smile to myself at this last one's arrogance and presumption in mistaking mimicked preparedness for the real thing. This one will be one of the first to fall screaming to the heavens and wondering where he went wrong.
Shifting my gaze to the very end of this tweanty-odd line of new recruits, my eyes are sullied by the vision of a young man, maybe 18 or 19 slightly hunched, suredly scared, and most likely at the end of the line forced there by all the other more large and greedy enrollies. This small one looks almost sick and hopless standing with these...wolves of opportunity and social capitalists.
Slowly standing I lean on my fists and speak to the pathetic soul before me. "Sir, how you made it thus far I can not imagine, but tell me now as no doubt you have suffered to still be standing here, what is it that you seek?" Raising his sight to me, the young man replies almost in a whisper as a fire of vengence and justice ignites in his eyes, "Sire, I only wish to live, and live as I may, or die as I may so that my love...my betrothed, Lacey might live."
As this 'one' speaks my heart suddenly fills with the remeberance of what it once felt like to fight and rage for a cause worth persuing. My mind now aflood with the visions of good battles won and righteous wars victoried. I am reminded yet again that it is always those that seem insignifigant, it is always those meek that seem to be the glue and backbone of survival and greatness. It is those that we miss for our own arrogance that rage with unimagionable passion and fight more fierce than we can comprehend.
Making my way to stand in front of the young man, I lock my gaze to his. "You, sir I believe. You I would follow that your heart, your motives are pure."
=====End Dialogue =====
The point is, I see people complaining about how they hate the grind of getting to 50 or 60 or 70 etc... I see people complain about end game content. I see people complain about how there isn't anything to do after they power leveld to X level after having only played the game for a month. I see alot of people complain about alot of topics and I just don't get it. What is the point of playing any game such as EQ, AOC, AO, or any of the other dozens of MMOPGs if all GamerX is concerned with is uber gear and phat loot.
It isn't real, you cant take it out of the game, and it holds no real value. Now people, that is something different. Imagination and time, just the same. For those of you that are into powergaming, I say run with it, but stop once in awhile to look around and remember the point to playing a game with a sc-fi or fantasy or any other theme. Become part of the story, Try just playing the game and not just skating through as fast as you can. once you take away immersion and self creation, you're just left with a little yellow ball going around in circles just trying to eat as many dots as you can.
A tiny mind is a tidy mind...