I made a recording of Bach's Invention no. 3 and added it to my site today.
From a musical perspective, the inventions are usually delivered to very early piano students (a year or two of study). As such I used to regard them as "easy". After many years, I can finally appreciate the fact that these pieces are absolutely unforgiving. It's not hard to get the notes, but it is extremely difficult to get the touch, style, phrasing and ornamentation correct. Revisiting the ornaments, I'm trying to play them as slowly as possible rather than as fast as possible: I feel that taking some time with them helps to add some tranquil grace to the piece.
In any event, I am growing more and more dissatisfied with my Mac PowerBook. This is a machine that is supposed to be perfect for the multimedia user. Instead, audio quality suffers from the lack of available inputs. I had to buy a special USB adaptor to use stereo audio inputs. This level of distortion in a $64 input is completely unacceptable. Further, it has been my understanding that ".mp3" format is pretty much universal these days. I had to convert my output file three times and fiddle with a bunch of advanced settings in iTunes to get this from garage band through .aif to .m4a and finally to mp3. I thought this was supposed to be easy? Maybe I'm just used to Sound Forge on my old PC. Oh how I miss thee.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Flaws in Warcraft PvP
I found an article on Gamasutra about World of Warcraft "teaching the wrong things".
The author makes the point that the game rewards time instead of skill in most cases. I think he's dead-on about most of the game. However, I think he does underestimate the skills taught by trying to get 40 people coordinated. Teamwork and leadership are great lessons, IMHO.
The author also makes some interesting points about the factionilization caused by Warcraft's guild system. That guild vs. guild factions were a direct consequence of game mechanics was something that hadn't occured to me before.
The article also echoes what I said about the PvP system leading to inevitable collusion. Well worth a read.
The author makes the point that the game rewards time instead of skill in most cases. I think he's dead-on about most of the game. However, I think he does underestimate the skills taught by trying to get 40 people coordinated. Teamwork and leadership are great lessons, IMHO.
The author also makes some interesting points about the factionilization caused by Warcraft's guild system. That guild vs. guild factions were a direct consequence of game mechanics was something that hadn't occured to me before.
The article also echoes what I said about the PvP system leading to inevitable collusion. Well worth a read.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
TDH Part 4: The Appearance of Impropriety
As I mentioned previously, I had been building up a bit of a PvP reputation on Malygos. One of the PvP events that was popular at the time was Capture the Flag. After good games, I would log onto an Alliance character that I had created for the purpose, and congratulate the Alliance opponents on a job well done. I chatted with many of the players, and when one of the best Alliance PvP players, “Lifeguard”, created a Horde character, I invited him into the guild. This was a disastrous decision for reasons I would soon discover.
Strangely, the disaster had nothing to do with Lifeguard as a personality. He was a really nice guy. The disaster, was that some of the hard core players in my guild seriously objected to the idea of having an “alliance” player in Two Dollar Horde. Specifically, the Everquest crowd of friends took issue with it. They internalized the game-design feature of Horde vs. Alliance and felt that it was unethical to chat with the other side. The game itself does not allow players to communicate with the other faction directly. As far as I was concerned, this division was silly. I enjoyed talking trash with the opposition some times. I also enjoyed growing my social network in the game.
At this point I need to touch briefly on some events that were taking place on Malygos server at the time. Capture the flag in Warcraft has some serious design flaws. These flaws involved ways to make games between two good teams drag out indefinitely. Since the game rewards number of games played, this causes a direct conflict of interest. Further, since players are rewarded on a relative scale versus other players on their same faction (Horde or Alliance) there was an added incentive to collude with the Alliance. In practice, PvP teams would occasionally “trade” the first two flags in a capture the flag game and then fight for the third. Rumors circulated that the top guilds even colluded to trade wins. Since losing is not punished, I have no doubt that some teams did trade wins to pad their scores.
As far as the ethics of all of this are concerned, I did have a problem with outright win trading to gain unjust rewards. I didn’t see the problem however with trading the first two flags in a game to speed things along. You see, a typical game of capture the flag should take less than 20 minutes tops. Games occasionally dragged on for three hours. I drew an ethical distinction between directly cheating other players (win trading) and agreeing to honorable rules of engagement with the opponent. I can see easily that this is a slippery slope. Honestly, I regarded this as a game and hadn’t given too much thought to the idea of ethics being a component.
Shortly after I invited Lifeguard to the guild, I was playing Capture the Flag at 2am. There were only three other Horde players online at the time, so we were playing outnumbered 10 to 4. Lifeguard, who was on the other team, tried to arrange for us to get 1 flag so at the very least we would get some reward out of what was essentially a no-win situation. I agreed to this plan with the proviso that the alliance players would duel in relatively equal numbers midfield instead of just steamrolling us.
The Everquest crowd was furious beyond anything that I could have imagined. Far from a large grey area, they perceived that I had made an ethical violation of principle equivalent to directly cheating or hacking the game. I was very surprised. They also pointed out that as the leader of the guild, my behavior is amplified in significance. This was a good point that I hadn’t really considered until then. I wouldn’t want to play with a cheater any more than I would want to be one. Regardless of whether I thought I had been cheating or not (I really didn’t think so). My guildies *did* think so, and that impression taught me a valuable lesson: namely that the appearance of impropriety is just as damaging as the real thing. I told everyone that I honestly didn’t realize that they would object to what I had done, but as their leader I would never do it again. They accepted this at face value and agreed to stay on. I made Lifeguard aware that the trade the night before (which incidentally hadn’t even worked) had been a one time lapse of judgment on my part and that this would never happen again
The next day, Lifeguard logged on while I wasn’t around and asked in guild chat if anyone wanted to trade flags. 4 of my best guild members quit on the spot. When I logged on later and found them gone, I pieced together what had happened from some others in the guild. I booted Lifeguard’s character from the guild. This made no impact on the recently departed guild members. The damage had been done. This was another huge lesson: you don’t always get second chances. Further, in an online world with no real attachments people will leave at the drop of a hat.
The next brush with guild drama would come as a result of our open recruiting policy. Just because someone is friendly doesn’t mean they are a “good fit”…
(stay tuned for more)
Strangely, the disaster had nothing to do with Lifeguard as a personality. He was a really nice guy. The disaster, was that some of the hard core players in my guild seriously objected to the idea of having an “alliance” player in Two Dollar Horde. Specifically, the Everquest crowd of friends took issue with it. They internalized the game-design feature of Horde vs. Alliance and felt that it was unethical to chat with the other side. The game itself does not allow players to communicate with the other faction directly. As far as I was concerned, this division was silly. I enjoyed talking trash with the opposition some times. I also enjoyed growing my social network in the game.
At this point I need to touch briefly on some events that were taking place on Malygos server at the time. Capture the flag in Warcraft has some serious design flaws. These flaws involved ways to make games between two good teams drag out indefinitely. Since the game rewards number of games played, this causes a direct conflict of interest. Further, since players are rewarded on a relative scale versus other players on their same faction (Horde or Alliance) there was an added incentive to collude with the Alliance. In practice, PvP teams would occasionally “trade” the first two flags in a capture the flag game and then fight for the third. Rumors circulated that the top guilds even colluded to trade wins. Since losing is not punished, I have no doubt that some teams did trade wins to pad their scores.
As far as the ethics of all of this are concerned, I did have a problem with outright win trading to gain unjust rewards. I didn’t see the problem however with trading the first two flags in a game to speed things along. You see, a typical game of capture the flag should take less than 20 minutes tops. Games occasionally dragged on for three hours. I drew an ethical distinction between directly cheating other players (win trading) and agreeing to honorable rules of engagement with the opponent. I can see easily that this is a slippery slope. Honestly, I regarded this as a game and hadn’t given too much thought to the idea of ethics being a component.
Shortly after I invited Lifeguard to the guild, I was playing Capture the Flag at 2am. There were only three other Horde players online at the time, so we were playing outnumbered 10 to 4. Lifeguard, who was on the other team, tried to arrange for us to get 1 flag so at the very least we would get some reward out of what was essentially a no-win situation. I agreed to this plan with the proviso that the alliance players would duel in relatively equal numbers midfield instead of just steamrolling us.
The Everquest crowd was furious beyond anything that I could have imagined. Far from a large grey area, they perceived that I had made an ethical violation of principle equivalent to directly cheating or hacking the game. I was very surprised. They also pointed out that as the leader of the guild, my behavior is amplified in significance. This was a good point that I hadn’t really considered until then. I wouldn’t want to play with a cheater any more than I would want to be one. Regardless of whether I thought I had been cheating or not (I really didn’t think so). My guildies *did* think so, and that impression taught me a valuable lesson: namely that the appearance of impropriety is just as damaging as the real thing. I told everyone that I honestly didn’t realize that they would object to what I had done, but as their leader I would never do it again. They accepted this at face value and agreed to stay on. I made Lifeguard aware that the trade the night before (which incidentally hadn’t even worked) had been a one time lapse of judgment on my part and that this would never happen again
The next day, Lifeguard logged on while I wasn’t around and asked in guild chat if anyone wanted to trade flags. 4 of my best guild members quit on the spot. When I logged on later and found them gone, I pieced together what had happened from some others in the guild. I booted Lifeguard’s character from the guild. This made no impact on the recently departed guild members. The damage had been done. This was another huge lesson: you don’t always get second chances. Further, in an online world with no real attachments people will leave at the drop of a hat.
The next brush with guild drama would come as a result of our open recruiting policy. Just because someone is friendly doesn’t mean they are a “good fit”…
(stay tuned for more)
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The Mystery of Early Video Game Explosions
The side-scrolling shooter game has fallen out of style recently. However, the things were fun and making them was an art. In preparation for my presentation on Tuesday, I took a good look at one of my favorite "old school' video games: Xevious.
If you don't mind registering at Gamespot, here's a quick video of Xevious.
To take a quick catalog of the sound effects in Xevious:
1. Opening Fanfare
2. 5 second music loop, repeats the entire game
3. the sound your guns make
4. the drooping sound for bomb shots
5. the "smack" noise for bomb hits
6. the crystalline shatter noise that enemy fighters make when they die
7. the "ping" that your shots make against indestructible targets
8. "1 up" noise
It's odd at first glance that the enemy fighters don't make a more realistic explosion sound. The same is true in other shooters like Axelay for example. The enemies that you kill most often disappear with a pleasant sounding crystalline wash, or a mild bubble-sounding "blop". Why don't they explode? Indeed, having just been shot out of the sky, you'd expect to hear anything up to a mangled alien death-rattle with fiery pieces of debris wooshing through the air (within the limits of early 80s technology of course). But no.
Contrast the sounds made by the waves of enemy fighters with your own bombs. They *do* blow up. Enemy tanks and buildings have a much more explosive splat noise.
I wouldn't chalk this up to "over-analysis" either. The fact of the matter is that Namco's sound designer probably sat down and tried to use more realistic explosion noises, and they didn't work for some reason. Why might that be? And more importantly, why *do* the current noises "just work"?
A more 'realistic' explosion sound probably would have been way too repetitive (i.e. annoying). Since you are blasting through waves and waves of enemies, if each one makes a bang - a high contrast noise - that bang is going to fight for your attention. Bomb drops, your ground attack in the game, happen with significantly less frequency in Xevious than gun shots or airborne enemy deaths. The bomb drops are also the subject of more player attention: you have to line them up carefully with your bomb site. Thus, a higher contrast sound is acceptable.
The enemy death sounds needed to blend more, however. It's my guess that the explosion and gun shot sounds were designed to harmonize with the swirling background loop, at least on a subconscious level. The end result is a sort of stack of musical contrast: moving makes no noise, shooting makes a very low contrast noise, explosions are marginally more contrasting, then finally the falling bomb and explosion noise highlight the bombing aspect of the game, which is one of the key gameplay features that makes Xevious different from space invaders.
The main point I want to make is that every single sound in a game needs to be taken in context. They do not exist in a vacuum. In a well designed game, the sound design should work with the gameplay, the art direction and the story to create one complete experience.
If you don't mind registering at Gamespot, here's a quick video of Xevious.
To take a quick catalog of the sound effects in Xevious:
1. Opening Fanfare
2. 5 second music loop, repeats the entire game
3. the sound your guns make
4. the drooping sound for bomb shots
5. the "smack" noise for bomb hits
6. the crystalline shatter noise that enemy fighters make when they die
7. the "ping" that your shots make against indestructible targets
8. "1 up" noise
It's odd at first glance that the enemy fighters don't make a more realistic explosion sound. The same is true in other shooters like Axelay for example. The enemies that you kill most often disappear with a pleasant sounding crystalline wash, or a mild bubble-sounding "blop". Why don't they explode? Indeed, having just been shot out of the sky, you'd expect to hear anything up to a mangled alien death-rattle with fiery pieces of debris wooshing through the air (within the limits of early 80s technology of course). But no.
Contrast the sounds made by the waves of enemy fighters with your own bombs. They *do* blow up. Enemy tanks and buildings have a much more explosive splat noise.
I wouldn't chalk this up to "over-analysis" either. The fact of the matter is that Namco's sound designer probably sat down and tried to use more realistic explosion noises, and they didn't work for some reason. Why might that be? And more importantly, why *do* the current noises "just work"?
A more 'realistic' explosion sound probably would have been way too repetitive (i.e. annoying). Since you are blasting through waves and waves of enemies, if each one makes a bang - a high contrast noise - that bang is going to fight for your attention. Bomb drops, your ground attack in the game, happen with significantly less frequency in Xevious than gun shots or airborne enemy deaths. The bomb drops are also the subject of more player attention: you have to line them up carefully with your bomb site. Thus, a higher contrast sound is acceptable.
The enemy death sounds needed to blend more, however. It's my guess that the explosion and gun shot sounds were designed to harmonize with the swirling background loop, at least on a subconscious level. The end result is a sort of stack of musical contrast: moving makes no noise, shooting makes a very low contrast noise, explosions are marginally more contrasting, then finally the falling bomb and explosion noise highlight the bombing aspect of the game, which is one of the key gameplay features that makes Xevious different from space invaders.
The main point I want to make is that every single sound in a game needs to be taken in context. They do not exist in a vacuum. In a well designed game, the sound design should work with the gameplay, the art direction and the story to create one complete experience.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Plans Placed on Hold
There is nothing quite so irritating as having a perfectly good plan interrupted by the most mundane and pointless of trivialities.
For example: I had this wacky idea that I'd post a new recording of piano music every Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately, this first installment will have to wait. You see, I had been planning to record from my keyboard into my apple laptop. The machine built by the company that thinks its catering to the multimedia crowd *doesn't have an audio input*. Lame.
Second, the GSB person in charge of student groups wants me to coordinate the setup of the fast forward website with them. This means that instead of signing up for cheap webhosting with a credit card online, I have to go through what has turned into a week long process to coordinate the hosting companies' billing department with the school.
I hate wasting productive energy. Somone please comment with something thought-provoking.
For example: I had this wacky idea that I'd post a new recording of piano music every Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately, this first installment will have to wait. You see, I had been planning to record from my keyboard into my apple laptop. The machine built by the company that thinks its catering to the multimedia crowd *doesn't have an audio input*. Lame.
Second, the GSB person in charge of student groups wants me to coordinate the setup of the fast forward website with them. This means that instead of signing up for cheap webhosting with a credit card online, I have to go through what has turned into a week long process to coordinate the hosting companies' billing department with the school.
I hate wasting productive energy. Somone please comment with something thought-provoking.
Friday, September 22, 2006
TDH Part 3: Growing the Guild
At this point, (early summer 2005) the guild was a purely social organization. I viewed it as a way of expanding my social network inside the game. I didn't know what a raiding guild was, and wasn't too interested to find out. The thing is, the top guilds had an elitist air about them, intentional or not. I remember trying to PvP (player vs. player, i.e. fighting teams of Alliance in games of capture the flag) and being removed from groups to make way for "Hell" and "Virtus" members. It was not a good feeling. Also, I had little interest in doing what it takes to be "included" by what looked like a group of 12 year olds. (I imagine it involves being self-aggrandizing beyond the limits of good taste though I have never put this to the test)The guild was a place in the game where not only could I feel included, but could include friendly people as well. This was my goal, to grow the ranks of Two Dollar Horde while trying to select for the friendliest people. I was sure they were out there, and probably as annoyed with the current balance of power as I was.
Towards this end of recruiting as many friendly people as possible I instituted two radical policies: One, anyone in the guild had "invite" capabilities (the ability to add another player to the guild). This ability to invite new members is usually reserved for "guild officers". Two, the recruiting criteria was simple. The game allows you to wave at other players by putting a "/" before the word wave when typing. I would /wave at people and if they responded with a return /wave or /cheer I'd invite them into the guild no questions asked.
The guild grew in spurts and bubbles. You'd occasionally invite a "connector" who would bring in 2-4 of his/her own friends. We grew to around 75 characters this way. Since some players (Real-Life Humans) had multiple characters in the guild, we probably had close to 30 real unique players. I didn't really attempt to govern the guild in any way, nor was it needed. Much to my surprise, new recruits praised my leadership. They said that the guild atmposphere was much friendlier than their previous guilds. Lesson one of leadership: As a leader, people will like you by default as long as you don't attempt to exercise power. Lesson two: recruiting friendly players had, surprise, created a friendly sociable guild. Thus we had two main assets: A funny guild name and a pool of friendly players.
Throughout this early stage, we had no turnover whatsoever. We also had no appreciable "Drama" in guild chat. Demographically, we skewed somewhat older than average (I have no statistics to back up what the average WoW player's age is, but the average age in our guild was 28). Further, as luck had it, a sizeable core group of our players knew each other online from playing "Everquest" (EQ). Apparently, some of them had originally thought I was a friend of their who had played by the name "Aardvark" in EQ. I dispelled this rumor to everyone's surprise after a few months. Strange how a case of mistaken Identity can be exacerbated by the anonymity of the game. In any event, we became known as "that Everquest guild". I felt this was a dubious distinction. I heard the adjective "Carebear" used to describe us at several points.
Since PvP was my main focus in the game, (I love team vs. team competition) I wound up building up a reputation with the other PvP regulars. I started being asked to fill in spots on the "good player" teams when their guildies weren't around. My character class in the game, Hunter, played to my own strengths. The hunter has a sort of "radar" in the game so I made it my mission to act as an AWACS in games of capture the flag. I didn't have the gear to compete with the best alliance players one on one, but I could sure as hell vector my team of better-equipped players to crucial points.
My own reputation blended with that of my guild mates. We began to be known as a PvP guild, which was something that I was much more interested in. Being known for battlefield ferocity is far superior to being known as a Carebear IMHO.
The guild was established. We grew briskly. Our first brush with the cruel hand of "Guild Drama" was just around the corner.
Towards this end of recruiting as many friendly people as possible I instituted two radical policies: One, anyone in the guild had "invite" capabilities (the ability to add another player to the guild). This ability to invite new members is usually reserved for "guild officers". Two, the recruiting criteria was simple. The game allows you to wave at other players by putting a "/" before the word wave when typing. I would /wave at people and if they responded with a return /wave or /cheer I'd invite them into the guild no questions asked.
The guild grew in spurts and bubbles. You'd occasionally invite a "connector" who would bring in 2-4 of his/her own friends. We grew to around 75 characters this way. Since some players (Real-Life Humans) had multiple characters in the guild, we probably had close to 30 real unique players. I didn't really attempt to govern the guild in any way, nor was it needed. Much to my surprise, new recruits praised my leadership. They said that the guild atmposphere was much friendlier than their previous guilds. Lesson one of leadership: As a leader, people will like you by default as long as you don't attempt to exercise power. Lesson two: recruiting friendly players had, surprise, created a friendly sociable guild. Thus we had two main assets: A funny guild name and a pool of friendly players.
Throughout this early stage, we had no turnover whatsoever. We also had no appreciable "Drama" in guild chat. Demographically, we skewed somewhat older than average (I have no statistics to back up what the average WoW player's age is, but the average age in our guild was 28). Further, as luck had it, a sizeable core group of our players knew each other online from playing "Everquest" (EQ). Apparently, some of them had originally thought I was a friend of their who had played by the name "Aardvark" in EQ. I dispelled this rumor to everyone's surprise after a few months. Strange how a case of mistaken Identity can be exacerbated by the anonymity of the game. In any event, we became known as "that Everquest guild". I felt this was a dubious distinction. I heard the adjective "Carebear" used to describe us at several points.
Since PvP was my main focus in the game, (I love team vs. team competition) I wound up building up a reputation with the other PvP regulars. I started being asked to fill in spots on the "good player" teams when their guildies weren't around. My character class in the game, Hunter, played to my own strengths. The hunter has a sort of "radar" in the game so I made it my mission to act as an AWACS in games of capture the flag. I didn't have the gear to compete with the best alliance players one on one, but I could sure as hell vector my team of better-equipped players to crucial points.
My own reputation blended with that of my guild mates. We began to be known as a PvP guild, which was something that I was much more interested in. Being known for battlefield ferocity is far superior to being known as a Carebear IMHO.
The guild was established. We grew briskly. Our first brush with the cruel hand of "Guild Drama" was just around the corner.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Chewy Software Part 2: Spinning Tales, Spinning Wheels
After I got my dotcom web design job (Calypso Systems, LLC), it was difficult to keep the nascent game company rolling along. Meeting for one day weekly isn't really enough to get anything meaningful done. Further, the goal of producing a playable game demo seemed somewhat remote. There was some immediate attrition in the ranks as a result of this drifting. We lost one artist and our two programmers as they left for school and jobs in other parts of the country. What remained was your erstwhile author, Tony and the programmer.
We had no shortage of cool ideas. Tony and I had pushed away from the generic fantasy setting that we had started with towards a more "Bio-Mechanical", Sci-Fi universe. The result was that we had pages and pages of brilliant drawn art from Tony. Due to the size of the team and our limited time commitment, we began to assemble a very limited demo. You could walk around. That was about it really. The character art was lifted from "Diablo" as a place holder.
Meanwhile, my training in graphic design from my job began to pay off. I got better and better with Photoshop, and began to pick up some 3d Studio skills. Leveraging my Photoshop and web programming experience, I was able to do some nifty things to keep the project rolling. I made a level editor in JavaScript that could output the primitive tile-based maps that we were using in the game through a palette / point and click interface.
This is the name of the game in keeping a micro-business project running. Being able to do multiple roles while picking up the skills you don't have yet. Since I had composed more music than we would ever need done within the first month, I concentrated on picking up the art skills that we needed to turn Tony's drawings into in-game art. Thus, what we lacked in team size and skillset I tried to compensate for with youthful enthusiasm and lots and lots of training.
After a year had gone by, we were really no closer to our goal. The programmer's company didn't seem interested in picking up the idea. Further, we had a crippling notion that the game needed to be "perfect" before we could move on. The Great was indeed the enemy of The Good.
Then the dotcom bubble burst. My company, Calypso, was owed almost a million dollars from clients that could not or would not pay up. I was at a crossroads: figure out how to turn this weekend project into a viable full-time business or move on.
We had no shortage of cool ideas. Tony and I had pushed away from the generic fantasy setting that we had started with towards a more "Bio-Mechanical", Sci-Fi universe. The result was that we had pages and pages of brilliant drawn art from Tony. Due to the size of the team and our limited time commitment, we began to assemble a very limited demo. You could walk around. That was about it really. The character art was lifted from "Diablo" as a place holder.
Meanwhile, my training in graphic design from my job began to pay off. I got better and better with Photoshop, and began to pick up some 3d Studio skills. Leveraging my Photoshop and web programming experience, I was able to do some nifty things to keep the project rolling. I made a level editor in JavaScript that could output the primitive tile-based maps that we were using in the game through a palette / point and click interface.
This is the name of the game in keeping a micro-business project running. Being able to do multiple roles while picking up the skills you don't have yet. Since I had composed more music than we would ever need done within the first month, I concentrated on picking up the art skills that we needed to turn Tony's drawings into in-game art. Thus, what we lacked in team size and skillset I tried to compensate for with youthful enthusiasm and lots and lots of training.
After a year had gone by, we were really no closer to our goal. The programmer's company didn't seem interested in picking up the idea. Further, we had a crippling notion that the game needed to be "perfect" before we could move on. The Great was indeed the enemy of The Good.
Then the dotcom bubble burst. My company, Calypso, was owed almost a million dollars from clients that could not or would not pay up. I was at a crossroads: figure out how to turn this weekend project into a viable full-time business or move on.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
TDH Part 2: How to Name Your Guild
Since the game is split into two sides, Horde and Alliance, (which don't tend to interact much save on the battlefield), I was mostly exposed to the "cool kid" guilds on Horde side. So what makes a "cool kid" in Warcraft, and what makes a "cool guild" for that matter?
WoW's gameplay is based around collecting hard-to-obtain gear. The best gear is only obtainable through a large scale group activity called "raiding". The "coolest" people on Malygos server from a purely materialistic point of view had the best gear. Therefore, they were also in "raiding guilds". "Raiding" requires coordinating up to 200 people to arrange for 40 of them to be available on any given night, with a proper mix of skills and specialties. Of course I knew nothing of this at the time. From my point of view they had cool stuff and an aura of success. And a guild tag wrapped in alligator brackets under their printed character name. Mine just said "Aardvarkina" with no cool brackets :(
There were many guilded players walking about Orgrimmar (the Horde Capital). "The Wings of Tiamat" was an older guild that was at this point on its way out. "The Many" was also a popular guild. Two of my employees at Chewy Software were in "The Many". They didn't want to leave their guild to join mine. The reason offered I didn't really understand at the time: something about having earned points towards getting good gear in their guild or something.
One-word guild names began coming into vogue. Hell. Virtus. Aeternus. Emminence (the premier alliance guild). Virtus was the creme-de-la-creme of horde guilds. Their players were the most highly regarded. Funny how being too busy to talk to someone makes you more an object of envy. (Not that they weren't cool people to chat with... I'm just saying)
This one word latin stuff seemed a tad pretentious to me. I wanted something funny that would help me recruit more players. Several off-color inside joke names were passed over.
I began trying to work on "Horde" puns.
Hordiculture - too obscure
Horde'oerves - too French, and not menacing enough
Hordinary People - too weird
Aunt Hordtense - again, too obscure
Two Dollar Horde came in a flash of inspiration. Off-color enough to be funny without being patently offensive. Pure gold.
We've been copied several times. There are now "Two Dollar Horde" guilds that have sprung up on other servers. We have also been written up repeatedly on the "best guild name" threads that crop up from time to time. However, I can safely say that we were the first.
I picked up a guild charter for Two Dollar Horde that evening and began collecting the 10 signatures needed to create the guild.
Next Time: The first members & guild formation
WoW's gameplay is based around collecting hard-to-obtain gear. The best gear is only obtainable through a large scale group activity called "raiding". The "coolest" people on Malygos server from a purely materialistic point of view had the best gear. Therefore, they were also in "raiding guilds". "Raiding" requires coordinating up to 200 people to arrange for 40 of them to be available on any given night, with a proper mix of skills and specialties. Of course I knew nothing of this at the time. From my point of view they had cool stuff and an aura of success. And a guild tag wrapped in alligator brackets under their printed character name. Mine just said "Aardvarkina" with no cool brackets :(
There were many guilded players walking about Orgrimmar (the Horde Capital). "The Wings of Tiamat" was an older guild that was at this point on its way out. "The Many" was also a popular guild. Two of my employees at Chewy Software were in "The Many". They didn't want to leave their guild to join mine. The reason offered I didn't really understand at the time: something about having earned points towards getting good gear in their guild or something.
One-word guild names began coming into vogue. Hell. Virtus. Aeternus. Emminence (the premier alliance guild). Virtus was the creme-de-la-creme of horde guilds. Their players were the most highly regarded. Funny how being too busy to talk to someone makes you more an object of envy. (Not that they weren't cool people to chat with... I'm just saying)
This one word latin stuff seemed a tad pretentious to me. I wanted something funny that would help me recruit more players. Several off-color inside joke names were passed over.
I began trying to work on "Horde" puns.
Hordiculture - too obscure
Horde'oerves - too French, and not menacing enough
Hordinary People - too weird
Aunt Hordtense - again, too obscure
Two Dollar Horde came in a flash of inspiration. Off-color enough to be funny without being patently offensive. Pure gold.
We've been copied several times. There are now "Two Dollar Horde" guilds that have sprung up on other servers. We have also been written up repeatedly on the "best guild name" threads that crop up from time to time. However, I can safely say that we were the first.
I picked up a guild charter for Two Dollar Horde that evening and began collecting the 10 signatures needed to create the guild.
Next Time: The first members & guild formation
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
TDH Part 1: How I got into Warcraft in the First Place
Back in the end of 2004, I never thought I'd like an MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game for the uninitiated). I had a very low opinion of "Everquest", and an equally unflattering stereotypical opinion of those who played it. I liked real time strategy games first and foremost: I had been ranked in the top 1000 in "Starcraft" as an individual player and at several points been in the top 20 of the 2 man team bracket in Warcraft 3. The thrills of teamwork and competition were what kept me playing both of those games. They were/are akin to competitive sports rather than games. If you think I'm making this up, read this article on Slashdot. In my eyes, the contrast between an MMORPG like Everquest and an RTS like Starcraft was akin to that between a trekkie club and a semi-pro soccer league. (no offense to trekkies)
I was introduced to WoW (World of Warcraft) by one of my employees. A very talented young artist, Adam was one of those people who just played every single new hot game that came out on the market. He's the kind of person that you rely on to keep you in tune with the best of the indy music scene. He started playing World of Warcraft as one of our large client projects began to wind down after delivery. In the interest of sociability I joined him and several of his friends on "Malygos" server. I had heard that the male tauren (Minotaur) models were sometimes hard to see over in game, so I went for the female model. (Yes I am confident enough in my masculinity to admit that online.) My usual gamer tag "ProudAardvark" wouldn't fit, so I named her "Aardvarkina".
The game is addictive beyond belief. I'll talk about that in more detail in another post, but suffice it to say I'm almost positive that in my lifetime there will be video game addiction hearings in Washington DC akin to the analogous Tobacco ones. There will be incriminating internal memos from video game execs talking about how to increase the addictive properties of their games. Indeed, creating addiction is a basic component of game design.
As several weeks passed, I began to form a small social network in the game. The network consisted of two people that I knew in real life, and a whole slew of people that I knew only from their character names. Funkadelic, Bem, Imtan, Grisdelda, Sten etc. Indeed, friendships are extremely simple to start in an online world. You have a shared experience of playing the game, coupled with the familiarity of seeing the same people repeatedly. Its a socializing force not unlike a church or community group - shared experience and familiarity create community.
Pretty soon, I decided it would be fun to form a "guild": at that point I figured it would mean slapping a name onto our social group. But what would we call it?
I was introduced to WoW (World of Warcraft) by one of my employees. A very talented young artist, Adam was one of those people who just played every single new hot game that came out on the market. He's the kind of person that you rely on to keep you in tune with the best of the indy music scene. He started playing World of Warcraft as one of our large client projects began to wind down after delivery. In the interest of sociability I joined him and several of his friends on "Malygos" server. I had heard that the male tauren (Minotaur) models were sometimes hard to see over in game, so I went for the female model. (Yes I am confident enough in my masculinity to admit that online.) My usual gamer tag "ProudAardvark" wouldn't fit, so I named her "Aardvarkina".
The game is addictive beyond belief. I'll talk about that in more detail in another post, but suffice it to say I'm almost positive that in my lifetime there will be video game addiction hearings in Washington DC akin to the analogous Tobacco ones. There will be incriminating internal memos from video game execs talking about how to increase the addictive properties of their games. Indeed, creating addiction is a basic component of game design.
As several weeks passed, I began to form a small social network in the game. The network consisted of two people that I knew in real life, and a whole slew of people that I knew only from their character names. Funkadelic, Bem, Imtan, Grisdelda, Sten etc. Indeed, friendships are extremely simple to start in an online world. You have a shared experience of playing the game, coupled with the familiarity of seeing the same people repeatedly. Its a socializing force not unlike a church or community group - shared experience and familiarity create community.
Pretty soon, I decided it would be fun to form a "guild": at that point I figured it would mean slapping a name onto our social group. But what would we call it?
Monday, September 18, 2006
Video Game Music Presentation
I'll be giving a presentation at Wheaton college on video game music on the 26th for any of you in the Chicago area.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Chewy Software Part 1: Primordial Start-Up Soup
Back in the summer of 1999, I had just graduated with a shiny new music composition degree. Naturally, I put that degree to use by learning HTML and casting my resume into the dotcom feeding frenzy. The idea was to get a steady job in Chicago while I built up my composition portfolio to get a music job in the video game business. During my search, I went over to the part-time job board at the career placement office on campus. What I saw was an ad that asked: "want to work in video games? give us a call..." I figured, probably too good to be true, but why not?
Several returned phone calls later, we were meeting on weekends on the University of Chciago campus. There were four programmers, a spouse, myself and two artists. It turned out that one of the programmers wanted to use the team to re-pitch a game concept that had been rejected by his boss. The goal then, was to build a "demo" of the game as a selling tool. I'd be adding sound effects and an audio track. This seemed like a great way to get established in video game music. The major selling point for me was the chance to work with Tony Akins, an amazingly talented comic artist.
These early sessions were largely social - we ordered up some Harold's Chicken and talked about what we wanted the game to be like. We called them "chewing and bobbing" sessions (we'd eat and nod agreement). I think Tony has one videotaped just in case any of us decide to run for office).
I got my dotcom job as a website designer, and our weekend sessions continued.
Several returned phone calls later, we were meeting on weekends on the University of Chciago campus. There were four programmers, a spouse, myself and two artists. It turned out that one of the programmers wanted to use the team to re-pitch a game concept that had been rejected by his boss. The goal then, was to build a "demo" of the game as a selling tool. I'd be adding sound effects and an audio track. This seemed like a great way to get established in video game music. The major selling point for me was the chance to work with Tony Akins, an amazingly talented comic artist.
These early sessions were largely social - we ordered up some Harold's Chicken and talked about what we wanted the game to be like. We called them "chewing and bobbing" sessions (we'd eat and nod agreement). I think Tony has one videotaped just in case any of us decide to run for office).
I got my dotcom job as a website designer, and our weekend sessions continued.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Major Faux Pas
So, I had the honor of being invited to one of the many schmoozey recruiting events on campus by a very prestigous firm. I took an excerpt from their email so as to protect the innocent. It begins:
>>SAVE THE DATE
>>As the last days of summer draw near, I want to be the first to welcome you to your final year at Kellogg.
Kellog? Oops. This was followed several minutes later by a:
>>Please disregard the previous Save the Date
>>SAVE THE DATE
>>As the last days of summer draw near, I want to be the first to welcome you to your final year at GSB.
I was contemplating a reply telling them that I was honored to be invited by [rival firm name], but decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
>>SAVE THE DATE
>>As the last days of summer draw near, I want to be the first to welcome you to your final year at Kellogg.
Kellog? Oops. This was followed several minutes later by a:
>>Please disregard the previous Save the Date
>>SAVE THE DATE
>>As the last days of summer draw near, I want to be the first to welcome you to your final year at GSB.
I was contemplating a reply telling them that I was honored to be invited by [rival firm name], but decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Introductions
My second year of business school is just getting underway. With the flood of new emails in my school account also comes the usual hectic reshuffling of schedules and commitments.
Two important experiences in my life are coming to an end. First, I had an amazing summer internship at Sure Payroll in Skokie IL. I have to say I was quite skeptical about applying to work at a payroll company. I didn't think I'd fit in - Here I am coming from a background in video game development - full of glitz and "fun". But, I was interested in the role - developing a new product. The deciding factor for me was the people I'd be working with. I learned that my immediate boss ran an alpaca farm in his spare time. How cool is that? Not only were the people interesting, they were also smart and capable. Instead of the passion for games and product design that I'm used to seeing in my co workers, there was a genuine passion for business strategy and growth. I liked it. I came away from the interview hoping I'd get an offer. For some strange reason, the "Me and My Llama"song from Sesame Street was stuck in my head on the drive home.
Second, I'm getting ready to pass on the leadership reigns of my World of Warcraft guild, Two Dollar Horde. I started the guild almost two years ago, as a completely casual thing. Strangely, it developed into an ideal test bed for all of the organizational & behavioral management training that I'm getting at school. You've probably all read the article in wired about the leadership training inherent in guild management. In my blog, I'm going to try to address some of that in more detail. Having run my own successful small business, I'm going to try to compare and contrast the two experiences. The question that I'm sure has been on your mind for a while, "What happens when you sick a $100,000 dollar University of Chicago MBA on a video game?" will be answered at last.
I'm going to be taking on two new commitments as the school year begins. One is to get more involved in the chamber music scene on campus. I've started practicing my audition material, including the flashy Chopin Etude no. 1 (Usually guaranteed to impress the natives). I've known that piece for a long time. Every few years I circle back to it with a feeling that I've "finally figured out how to play it". The curious thing about the piano is that each new skill plateau you reach tends to open up a wider view of things that can be improved. Your practice time as a musician improves your ability to perceive shortcomings in your playing. I'm also going to be playing a softer more lyrical c# minor nocturne which has been a favorite of mine for a while. The goals here are to get a concert or two over the course of the year, ideally with an opportunity to premier my new clarinet sonata.
Also, I'm resolved to take a more active role in developing the "Fast Forward" organization on campus. I'm going to be setting up a phpnuke website for the group. I have this idea that we may be able to develop it into a useful networking tool for current students and alumni. At the very least we can "out-web" the other student groups on campus and make a bigger name for our media industry group. Look out consulting group, we're gunning for yah!
Thanks for reading so far, thus concludes my first blog entry.
Two important experiences in my life are coming to an end. First, I had an amazing summer internship at Sure Payroll in Skokie IL. I have to say I was quite skeptical about applying to work at a payroll company. I didn't think I'd fit in - Here I am coming from a background in video game development - full of glitz and "fun". But, I was interested in the role - developing a new product. The deciding factor for me was the people I'd be working with. I learned that my immediate boss ran an alpaca farm in his spare time. How cool is that? Not only were the people interesting, they were also smart and capable. Instead of the passion for games and product design that I'm used to seeing in my co workers, there was a genuine passion for business strategy and growth. I liked it. I came away from the interview hoping I'd get an offer. For some strange reason, the "Me and My Llama"song from Sesame Street was stuck in my head on the drive home.
Second, I'm getting ready to pass on the leadership reigns of my World of Warcraft guild, Two Dollar Horde. I started the guild almost two years ago, as a completely casual thing. Strangely, it developed into an ideal test bed for all of the organizational & behavioral management training that I'm getting at school. You've probably all read the article in wired about the leadership training inherent in guild management. In my blog, I'm going to try to address some of that in more detail. Having run my own successful small business, I'm going to try to compare and contrast the two experiences. The question that I'm sure has been on your mind for a while, "What happens when you sick a $100,000 dollar University of Chicago MBA on a video game?" will be answered at last.
I'm going to be taking on two new commitments as the school year begins. One is to get more involved in the chamber music scene on campus. I've started practicing my audition material, including the flashy Chopin Etude no. 1 (Usually guaranteed to impress the natives). I've known that piece for a long time. Every few years I circle back to it with a feeling that I've "finally figured out how to play it". The curious thing about the piano is that each new skill plateau you reach tends to open up a wider view of things that can be improved. Your practice time as a musician improves your ability to perceive shortcomings in your playing. I'm also going to be playing a softer more lyrical c# minor nocturne which has been a favorite of mine for a while. The goals here are to get a concert or two over the course of the year, ideally with an opportunity to premier my new clarinet sonata.
Also, I'm resolved to take a more active role in developing the "Fast Forward" organization on campus. I'm going to be setting up a phpnuke website for the group. I have this idea that we may be able to develop it into a useful networking tool for current students and alumni. At the very least we can "out-web" the other student groups on campus and make a bigger name for our media industry group. Look out consulting group, we're gunning for yah!
Thanks for reading so far, thus concludes my first blog entry.
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