It’s an interesting thing, being limited in what you can play. My motivation to hop into MMOs has dropped to next to nothing, yet my interest in doing so has skyrocketed. When I’d usually be logging on RIFT, I’m instead logging into a match of Call of Duty: Black Ops on my PS3. Inevitably, matches either go very good or very bad, and the entire time I’m thinking of how I’d rather be grinding footholds or invasions for my next source machine – RIFT’s built in stat augmenter. I’m a sore thumbed contradiction, gov’nah, and methinks it’s time to end the fast.
If you read my last post, you know that I’ve been battling PC problems not dissimilar from a leper trying to keep his ear attached. Despite everything I try to do, the damned thing just keeps falling off. Or in my case, turning blue and tossing out a cryptic error message. I finally woke up and said to hell with it. I write this post from work – hey, man needs coffee and coffee and I need our alone time – having just checked Newegg for a tracking number on a new motherboard. Free at last, free at last, in two days time I’ll be free at last. Or so help me I might just break something. … Eff you, Gigabyte.
Anyways, what time I have gotten in on RIFT has been delightful. Trion is literally letting me collect dragon tears. From “motes” that look strangely like eggs. Yes, we’re killing baby dragons, “none the wiser” and turning in their still-wet tears for loot. Aren’t you a strong warrior now. Then again, it’s loot. Warcraft once had me collect butterfly dust to coke up a Goblin in a pirate hat and THAT was only for little gold. You probably did it too. Low standards, we MMO players.
Oh and a final note, driven entirely by a total hour of play since last Friday: Thank the sweet Lord and checkerbox boxers for free-and-instant server transfers. Whoever decided it should cost $25 to escape the PvP hell that is grief-centric PvP should be flagged and feathered in the opposite faction’s capital city. Faeblight, where have you been all my life…