Verad

Billy Mays.

That's why I said funnily enough. Also, it's not so much that the events are non-canon or anything, it's just that my main problem is with the MSQ. The way I see it, if I'm going to be forced to go through a narrative in order to access content, I want that narrative to be good - especially if I need to watch enough cutscenes that they have TWO disclaimers for them. If you only care about possible RP hooks then that's fine. We're both looking at this from two completely different points of view. You care about RP, I care about the game. I care about the gameplay, and I care about the setting. These are aspects of the game. The narrative is an at-times useful and funny part of it, which also helps my roleplay, but I'm not holding the narrative to a certain standard of character competence. Not portrayal, mind - the portrayal is fine as far as I'm concerned. Just competence.

But also not MSQ. If you are holding to the idea that it has to be within the main storylines to qualify as an indicator of intelligence - you are only "entertaining the thought" - and the "canon" personality of the WoL, then the events are irrelevant. As for Company of Heroes, it sounds as if you are replacing stupidity with stunning passivity and obedience - traits which also explain the WoL's reactions in 2.55, and are also held as crimes against good characterization. But in either case, as far as I'm concerned the conflict potential for RP in Ul'dah now far outweighs any concerns I have about the portrayal of a character I'm not actually playing except as a placeholder to see a plot in which I'm not actually a participant. I'll take the plot-hooks, thank you.

It's strange looking because the plot hooks are bad writing. Again, the events of 2.55 require that the WoL be the dumbest person on Eorzea, to the point where the only reason they would have survived everything was through sheer dumb luck. That may sound awesome to some of you, but to me it's just a level of disbelief suspension I cannot attain. In general, I am always surprised when players cannot suspend their disbelief regarding a character's stupidity. I find it harder to believe in characters that behave intelligently. In the specific, the Warrior of Light is a character who has slaughtered half of Eastern La Noscea to get the ingredients for a feast in his own honor and never questioned why, spent about five levels and interminable hours of the players' life not realizing that the Inquisitor from Ishgard (whose name escapes me) does not have his best interests at heart when denying him access to Stone Vigil, hired a Mamool Ja sex offender to teach dancing lessons to Costa del Sol girls (among other absurd acts of letter delivery), and enabled the shared delusion of Hildibrand's competence. Your conception of your own character as the Warrior of Light may be of one more competent, but from the things he does? He's a goddamn moron, and that's been established since Level One. The groundwork was already laid.

A bonfire built from plot hooks is a strange-looking bonfire indeed.

Please tell us how you really feel, do not hold back.

Verad as Warrior of Light would have made the whole thing an elaborate farce. Every major fight would be an exercise in him failing forward: splashing dehydrated water on Ifrit, tricking Titan into selling his mineral rights, accidentally surfing on Leviathan, defeats Ultima weapon by having swapped out one replacement magitek gyro with a piece of imitation fool's gold at a critical moment, etc. The Royal Feast would be marred by a pie-fight. In short it would be Final Funtasy XIV.

New Story Aspect In addition to the /Anti-Ishgardian Paranoia/ Aspect introduced in the last round of events, the following is now present in all scenes:

The Sagolii was not kind to carrion. Outside of the few oases in the region, scavenger birds were unlikely, so corpses tended to go about the business of bloating and/or mummification (weather depending) with relatively little interruption. On occasion, a sandworm would rumble through the region and scoop up a body into its maw, but this was a messy process that left almost as much in the way of torn limbs and gobs of flesh on the ground as was actually consumed, an unfortunate drawback to not having a jaw. Otherwise a body fallen was a body in what would eventually become its grave, once the sand and wind got around to covering it up. By the time the pair reached the Dravanian camp, the bodies had only had a few days to be subject to the desert's distinct lack of tender mercies. It helped that their killers had thought to pile and burn the bodies; even if the remains of their hastily-constructed shelter remained standing, the rest appeared to be ash and bone, piled near the remnants of what had likely once been a great wing protruding from hastily scrabbled earth. It was all, Gerchon noted from his position atop a rented chocobo, very thorough. Sighing, he dismounted and approached the remains of the camp first. His companion chose to stay off his feet. Let him, thought Gerchon; the better to save his strength. How anybody could stand the desert heat in an outfit made of mostly black leather and buckles, he couldn't imagine. But his partner had insisted upon it. Image was everything, he said. Well, there was something to that. He pushed metacommentary aside and squatted down near the pile of bones and ash, filtering through the remains with the tips of his fingers. "Very thorough," he said aloud, before glancing back over his shoulder. "Cultists and drake alike. Another dead end, I think." The No-Eyed Man cursed, his words muffled behind a thick bandanna that concealed the bulk of his face. As if people wouldn't notice the buckles. "Suh thuh - " He said, paused, and then pulled down his mask. "So then that's the last of it, isn't it? Even this one was a shot in the dark." Wrinkling his nose to ride himself of a few stray, windblown motes of ash, Gerchon shrugged. "It was a long shot. Has been for some time. But at least that's the Dravanians out of the way." Inwardly, he was disappointed - Fraideoux, when they'd spoken, had seemed a cultist at the end of his tether. He'd thought desperation would make him more effective. "The Duskwight and the Keeper must have been freed, though. They've seen you. And me." The No-Eyed Man was good, to be certain, raising an eyebrow to express disapproval, looking proper and regal atop his mount. Dedicated, Gerchon would give him that. "We're at risk at the estate, are we not?" "Mmm . . . " Gerchon blew air out of his lips in thought. "No. No, I don't think so. No law enforcement, yet. No proof. The Duskwight has a reputation for the outrageous, and there's still a Blade after him according to Dino. He'll keep his head down. They might make an assault, I'll warrant." He smiled. "But that's more fun than risk for us, and lots of risk for the dragoons." Once he was satisfied that the Ishgardians had, in fact, destroyed a priceless relic of a corpse of the old Horde like so much kindling, he slumped down into the sand and uncorked his waterskin. The plan was going wrong. That wasn't cause for alarm. It was a plan that had gone wrong a half-dozen ways by now, and it was still in operation. This was how he liked things: flexible, mutable. He'd seen the schemes of the dune-turds and they operated like beautiful pieces of Ishgardian clockwork - finely crafted and well-tuned, but one small speck of dust in the wrong place and they went all awry. Better to be uncertain of success, he felt, then utterly certain of failure. His partner, it seemed, did not share this enthusiasm. "We could just vanish," he said. "Plant what we need, and then light off for another city." Gerchon raised his eyebrows. "You're saying this? After all of that? It seems anti-climactic, don't you think?" "Mayhaps." The No-Eyed Man shrugged his shoulders. The buckles jingled, but even that sound seemed immensely important when he did that, as if this jingle was the jingle that would shake the heavens. "But what other recourse do we have? We're out of relics, and they're harder to find by the day. The drop-boxes are full with junk - I think one of Dino's men reported a rosary made out of dried pasta at one point - and our mutual contact was unable to confirm the second shipment." "Then that's what you'll have to do, isn't it? No purchasing agents, no catspaw. Time to work the charm." Gerchon turned to smile brightly, though his eyes moved to a point beyond his partner's position. Something glinted in the light of the desert sun. Metal. It moved no farther or closer. His eyes narrowed. "Do you remember that story from one of Dino's dealers? Haig, wasn't it?" "About the cat breaking in and gutting a visitor? Unexpected, to be sure." The No-Eyed Man didn't seem to follow the train of thought. That was fine; Gerchon agreed. It had been unexpected. That always caught his interest. "What do you think she wanted?" his partner continued. "Grudge, from the sound of it. It was very focused. Reliable things, grudges. Point a person at their target and they'll do anything to help with it." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, a habit that often occurred in the midst of serious thought. Back in Coerthas, people had likened it, both unkindly and otherwise, to the tapping of a dragon's claw. "Well. We have Primrose. And we have a few other angles. And if push comes to shove, we have the last resort - if you're prepared." The No-Eyed Man flinched. "If I must." "Good. Now, let's see if we can get what she asked, keep things moving." Gerchon chuckled, and sincerely at that. "Drachen ore, of all things. Whatever she's making, it should be interesting." "And how, pray, are we to find drachen ore here?" "Simple, the same way we got our wyrmtears back." Gerchon rose to his feet and dusted off his knees. The glint vanished. The No-Eyed Man furrowed his brow. "What - we have tears? Did you find more?" Another chuckle. "Sorry. A passing moment's lie for my own amusement. Anyway, it really is quite simple - we take it from a dragoon."

Oi. We left that faking-crazed lalafell alive. I did say often! Although the ones where the NPCs stay alive tend to also involve destruction of property or corpse desecration. Or both.

Well considering how often my Fate events turn into "And Then All the NPCS Died," plenty.

I break character. I shatter the character into a thousand pieces. All the king's horses and all the king's men will never put that character together again. Immersion is easy to regain. The bad taste in my mouth from doing something that I, the player, am uncomfortable doing because it would be "out-of-character" not to do it is far harder to avoid. Of course, making a character with a personality flexible enough that quite a bit is in-character for him helps a lot.

Baron Munchausen, both historical and Terry Gilliam'd Moist von Lipwig Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler Shelley "The Machine" Levine Nick Naylor Coyote Tora-san Justy Ueki Tylor

Taverns in WoW were generally the opposite of a hotspot. Goldshire's reputation is well-known, but other, smaller places like Silvermoon's Wayfarer's Inn and Stormwind's Blue Parrot also had reputations as loci of bad RP. People avoided them in favor of one-on-one interactions. The reversal has been interesting, but, for me at least, pretty rewarding.

I think it's the latter part of your statement that makes it concerning. It's definitely the case that a number of players are using RP as a kind of social support structure to greater or lesser degrees. If that's the case, then breaking into RP becomes critical. If that weren't the case, these would be petty inconveniences at best. The problem is the impossibility of addressing that in a fragmented, largely decentralized community, in which creating an organized support structure to help such players is rife with its own problems, e.g. the discussion in the RPC and You thread about the possibility of organized Welcoming Committees and the Mentorship Program. Raising awareness and recognizing behavior can only go so far without either a paradigmatic shift in RP culture on a given server or something resembling a policy decision.

At least one evil twin. Then the long-awaited confrontation can finally begin.

"Dangerous" in what way? Do you mean real harm is being inflicted upon the people who are at the brunt of these false promises?

The most organization I'd suggest would be for interested parties to designate themselves as being receptive to new players and indicate where and when they tend to RP. That way new players can be pointed to them as an "in" for getting started, while also allowing the listed players to frequent their typical haunts. The more organized form of committee I've seen worked because the organization had in-guild promotion as an incentive. We don't really have that here.

Related to Tiergan's post, one aspect of the activity guilds on AOL back in the day was the creation of a "Welcoming Committee," wherein some chosen players would actively seek out and interact with newcomers. It might be useful to have some people volunteer for such an activity, particularly the social and outgoing folks so their personalities needn't clash with the type needed for the activity.

I got my start in roleplay here in large part thanks to the RPC, my introduction post, and my wiki page. It's been a significant help in getting me involved in roleplay on Balmung. Once I actually got rolling, I gathered most of my roleplay connections in real-time by working the Quicksand and having Verad do his job. I did, however, find my first FC here on the RPC as well once pitching dubious goods in the Quicksand alone became repetitive. The RPC was also a good place to house my first long piece of RP fiction - probably the longest work I've written in a while, really. After leaving that FC and acquiring my own, I used the RPC as a means of promoting my LS, my roll system, and to a lesser extent my FC (which will change once my current plot is done). For the most part, I rely on word-of-mouth rather than active recruitment, and the strength of the posts in the RP itself. So far that's been working out.

And that streamlining process is coming at the expense of actual interaction on the part of the FCs involved. If there's a temporary event LS for communication, that's an improvement, but even then the chatter might hinder the participant and streamers' ability to read the macros. Actual interaction will come during intermissions, and therefore briefly; in private, and therefore outside the view of the streamers; or after the event entirely. Part of what made the dances fun - and I don't know who criticized balls, of all things, but I certainly wasn't one of them - was that they were largely open events where players could come and go and interact as they pleased with friends and strangers alike The structure of the events didn't actually affect how the participants were engaged beyond loose guidelines. This is not that; this is very far from that. So what would make this interesting to the observer, given the rigidity of the structure presented?

Even if we presume for the sake of argument that this event won't actually be harmful, you've created a number of structural problems in how the event is organized that minimize its ability to actually be helpful. You're also presuming that an hour-long stream of pre-prepared recruitment macros of FCs whose information is already available on the website on which you're organizing this event is, in some way that I'm still trying to understand, entertaining to watch. So, very well, let's set aside the concerns about councils and whatnot. How on earth are parliamentary proceedings fun? Is it the pleasure derived from 50+ RPers in the same place, not saying anything until their turn? Is the gear meant to be visually pleasing enough to justify this? Are the closing remarks intended to be exceptionally poignant?

The examples you provide are vague at best, or are, in the case of the GW2 example of dealing with "claims" on locations, solved problems. There's an absence of these claims because FFXIV has a housing system that eliminates the need for them. Everyone can have their own space. The fact that everyone has their own space and there is therefore less interaction (something I don't agree with, but let's presume for the sake of argument) is one of the "problems" that the summit seeks to address, as seen in the post Osric quoted. That sounds more like unsolving a problem than solving one. Your post seems to be predicated on the notion that decentralized RP, in which everybody has their own circle and is comfortable with that, is a problem in and of itself, but it doesn't actually provide evidence as to why. If you're assuming that the ideal of RP is that it shouldn't be decentralized - that everybody should be able to find RP anywhere - well, I disagree with that, and you've also shown how centralized RP where players are unable to have their own space can actually be a problem as well with the GW2 example. I'm also not sure who the "same people" running the same server-wide events are. Do you have a specific list of people doing these at great length, and are you sure they're burning out? I do not expect this respect. If you have a problem with the content of an event I am running, you are welcome to criticize it in the event itself. Doing so allows me to review my own work and improve on what I'm doing for future events. Why would you not want the same?

Why do things need to get better? What is the problem that is preventing things from getting better, and what does better look like? What is the evidence of this problem?

The dialog. Also, humanities. You are climbing the wrong cactuar.