Showing posts with label obsessive completist disorder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label obsessive completist disorder. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Played: Kingdom Of Loathing

This month began with Narraptor revealing his addiction to Leveling. It's only proper that it ends with my own tearful confession.

I've been playing
Kingdom Of Loathing off and on for over a year now. It's a free web based game, where your tiny stickman adventurer boozes, eats, and kills their way across the kingdom. Eventually, you climb up to the naughty sorceress' tower, kill her, and jump into a portal leading to heaven. Then, you start the process all over again, but with one of your previous abilities permanently added to your new level one character. There are a few differences, but the second verse is pretty damn close to the first. Also, the thirteenth is pretty much the same as the last twelve, but my character is a lot better at making mixed drinks than he used to be.

There ought to be a sane reason I still play this. World Of Warcraft kept me around long after it had lost it's luster, just from the co-operative gameplay and it's financial simulation aspects. Meanwhile, Kingdom of Loathing is a very solitary experience if you don't hang out on the forums, and it's marketplace might be robust, but it is also painful to use.

Then again, they try to include new content every Tuesday, usually based around enriching the lives of lower level players. This certainly beats the content drops of WOW, which hit once every four to five months, and 90% of it is designed solely for the top 10% of the players.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

This Is My Brain On Leveling


My name is Narraptor and I am a level addict. I have a myriad of vices, but in terms of hours logged and opportunities for social interaction wasted, I've spent more time sitting in front of a computer screen playing with myself than sitting in front of computer playing with myself.

The last 20 years are lost in a haze of disposable party members and experience points, 50+ hour orgies of monsters dying that invariably ended in hasty anti-climaxes, abrupt conclusions always leaving me craving that next fix.
I can't remember exactly how it started, but my sponsor Wikipedia helped me piece together a likely progression of events.

Although I was first exposed to leveling in
Telengard, given the randomness of the encounters and the lack of a quicksave, the concept that there were character levels and attribute improvements waiting beyond level one never connected until years later. I vaguely recall that my interest in the Advanced Heroquest board game, a curiosity eagerly encouraged by overly-permissive family members and elementary school enablers, lead me to my first epiphany that characters could improve as a result of their exploits, as opposed to just bumping their heads on platforms, robots, light fixtures, or falling down holes. But it was probably my impulse purchase of the D&D Basic Box set that started my addiction.

(Impulse purchase, indeed. Games Workshop and Waldenbooks knew what they were doing, with the former's cheap, entry-level plastic minis and the latter's fantasy sections filled with stories about Angst Elves who no one understood but their magical cat familiar and trusty scimitars...and maybe their best friend's girlfriend, who might realize one day that the guy who she goes to with all her problems is really the man for her.)


Might and Magic III, Ultima VI, Eye of the Beholder, and Bane of the Cosmic Forge--I played them all in a two-year period, xp'ing out on weekends and school vacations while listening to the best of the '70s, '80s, and '90s. I was so high on level advancement that Peter Cetera seemed cool, and probably was compared to me. I not only played through several Gold Box games, I played silver box games like
Hillsfar. I struggled through the broken Worlds of Ultima, the bugs of Space 1889, and Spelljammer: Pirates of Realmspace just to get a fix.

Of course, with prolonged abuse came greater tolerance. After high school I needed a more potent product, and I found it in Fallout and its sequel, Planescape, and Baldur's Gate II. So many party members! So many opportunities for micro-management! So much leveling! I did dozens of "one more turns", collecting every resource and throwaway magic item and all the gold xp Heroes of Might and Magic II and III had to offer, even when my level cap was met. What started as an addiction became certifiable OCD--Obsessive Completist Disorder. I found myself psychologically incapable of completing a game without clearing every zone of fog of war, calculating maximum experience points and skill bonuses for greater leveling efficiency, and completing every side quest.

Thanks to the crackdown of the Console Enforcement Agency, the hardcore RPG is a thing of the past. Whether imported or grown domestically, the product available is either embarrassingly incomplete or cut with real-time combat. I've tried permutations of the genre, but because of OCD, I can't enjoy them. Leveling is just a $14 a month prelude to actual content in World of Warcraft. The character options in Fire Emblem and Disgaea are so close to infinite that leveling would be rendered meaningless even if the reward wasn't to click through a thousand ellipses. And as much as I've tried to have "fun" playing Oblivion, it's the first game I've ever played where character advancement is punished.

I am Narraptor, and this is my brain on leveling.