19 Nov
The buzz at a Wrath of the Lich King launch party
by Chris Holt, Macworld.com
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Why were all of these people lined up outside a GameStop adhering Powell Street in San Francisco on any unusually balmy November night? What would possess people to wait hours in string to enter a depot about the size of a shoebox? Why was the person next to me drinking from a goblet and talking about walrus men?
Blizzard, that big tent of computer gaming, was unveiling its latest attempt at gobbling up your remaining time and friends: The Wrath of the Lich King expansion pack for World of Warcraft (). I’ve been to launch parties before, but you’d be unnatural pressed to find a more different group of gamers than you’d determine an issue on this night. Lawyers, kids, businessmen, teenagers, and frat brothers alike are whole hither. World of Warcraft fans are just like you or me, except in favor of the fake plastic elf ears.
Inside the store was the general collection of booths and tables, from Rockstar drinks to large cardboard cutouts of Mr. Freeze himself, the Lich King. I noticed a stage setup in the on the frontier for the later dance competition and I headed to the press corner to score some expensive cheese and crackers. Snow cones and blue cotton candy were also served, that I guess went with the whole “frozen throne” theme. Though now I envision Northrend as a wintry paradise rightly stocked of reindeer and misfit toys.
I headed back outside. The line is already extended around the block, and it resembles a strange circus. There are clowns in Orc masks hired through the PR company to assist the event, makeup artists picture faces into some loving of strange cross between Kiss and Cirque du Soleil, and forward a level more exotic: the occasional female. Yes, it’s a pretty male-heavy crowd but that’s to be expected from these events.
Equipped with my detached air of superiority and the spite that can only come with covering Mac gaming, I entered the fray to interview my fellow MMO fans. The first person to catch my eye was a sultry light woman dressed in a rather revealing full blood elf priestess style of dress. It came as no surprise later when I surveyed the crowd about their embarrassing attractions to game characters, the Elven priestess won nearly unanimously.
I talked to a couple of guys in the twenties who explained to me they both had level 70 characters and had been playing the game for individual years now. The time spent in game was limited in weeks, not hours for them. That kind of time commitment may turn off some who fear that they’ll miss other epoch spent in operation or socializing with friends. A young woman dressed as a gnome explained to me that she actually made a lot of friendships through the game. You acquire friends and seeing them is as much a part of the game as anything else. Now that there are 25-person raid groups available, it’s like being able to invite that many more people to your party without having to clean up afterwards.
Inside, dedicated fans of the series had the suitable to strut their stuff on stage for a dance competition. The developers of Warcraft, ever the jokesters, had modeled many of the characters’ dances on pop-culture icons. I witnessed gamers imitating video game characters who were in acidify imitating pop-culture icons that had riffed on a popular trend. Despite the layers of culture complexity in vigilance such a dance, there is something inherently captivating about it being so the grace of dozen gamers flail around on stage, like witnessing a cubist painting of wolverines on acid.
Not everyone was so united in the revelry. Old rivalries boiled beneath the surface. I watched couple guys have an argument about the number of jerks who played for the Alliance or for the Horde, respectively. Eventually they agreed that the Alliance had more morons. I was taken aback by the comprise; I felt as though I had just witnessed the signing of the Treaty of Versaille.
After taking in more than my fair share of revelry and free victuals from the press table, I decided to leave. The party would still rage for a hardly any greater quantity hours until the dauntless would actually be sold at the store, and that dark beast of deadlines was calling my name. I also knew that in the van of I finished writing this article, someone would have reached the new level cap.
I was left with a newfound respect with revere to the culture and community that has surrounded World of Warcraft, and how, for all its silliness, it’s reassuring that gamers are becoming greater degree open and active in their religious frenzy. I’ll take the men dressed in full armor, the conversations about “noobs” and the long-lines at a GameStop because that means the industry is in operation and well. While contemplating all of this, I went away from the thicker settlements and hit upon that Blood Elf priestess. If you’re reading this, please call me.
[Chris Holt is a Macworld assistant editor. Photos by Darren Gladstone of PC World.]
