Why Romer Doesn't Play MMOs Anymore
Over the last several years, I've had many people try to get me interested in MMOs. EverQuest, World of Warcraft, EVE Online, City of Heroes... All of them have had their proponents. And, to be honest, I've tried a couple - I spent about 10 hours in Auto Assault when it was in beta, I've played a few hours of EVE Online, and I've tried DC Comics' DC Online. They all have their good and bad points, and I can totally see why MMOs continue to draw such huge audiences, but none of them have ever managed to pull me in the way the Old School MMOs did. Let me tell you a story...
No shit, there I was. Flying the banner of C-land, tooling around in my P-38 about 18,000 feet over B-land, when I see a pair of Mitsubishi A6M5 Zeros (colloquially known as Zekes) turn-fighting underneath me. I've got a lot of altitude on 'em, so I figure I'll go in for one boom-and-zoom pass, get some hits in, and get out before they know what hit 'em. I roll over, pull the nose down into my dive, then roll right-side up. Somewhere just south of Mach 1, I realize that a) they're a lot lower than I thought and b) if I can't pull out, I'll be the prettiest pancake in B-land. I throw out the air brakes, pull back on the throttle, and hope that the elevators will start biting as the air gets thicker. Icons pop up - I'm closing on the Zekes like a bolt of Lightning (pun intended), and I'll be in shooting range in seconds. Suddenly, I'm less than 800 yards from them, and they're lined up almost perfectly. I lean on the trigger - 4 .50 cals and a cannon start growling. A burst of smoke, then... POW! The first Zeke explodes. A quick kick on the rudder brings the second into my reticle; another burst from my guns and it, too, is suddenly an expanding mass of very small pieces. I'm under 4,000 feet now, nose still below the horizon... but, the airspeed's coming off, thanks to the air brakes. I start to pull back on the stick and, slowly, the nose responds. Under 1,500 feet, and the altimeter isn't spinning down as quickly. 1,000... 600... 300... at 150 feet, the nose clears the horizon and, at 75 feet, the altimeter starts climbing again. I quickly honk the throttle to the firewall and start trading airspeed for altitude; soon, I'm at 5,000 feet, still climbing, looking for my next targets.
That's a probably-fictionalized story from the MMO that I started with, almost 25 years ago. Air Warrior, by Kesmai, ran on the old GEnie network. It was an extensively researched multiplayer flight simulator, with amazing (for the time) accuracy in flight characteristics of the multitude of planes available to players. Players chose to join one of three different 'countries' (imaginatively, A-land, B-land, and C-land); good players were often asked to join a squadron who would train and fly together. Originally designed for that era's graphical computers (Mac, Amiga, Atari ST), a port soon found its way to DOS- and Windows-based machines. The graphics, primitive as they look now, were evocative enough to make you feel like you were actually in the plane. And, if you didn't like the default cockpit art of the plane you were in, you always had the option to create your own.
What sets AW apart from today's MMOs (and, especially, MMORPGs) is the lack of pre-planned scenarios, encounters, and missions. AW had the occasional "Scenario Night", when certain planes would be limited or completely unavailable, to try and emulate classic battles of WWII. Mostly, though, AW was a never-ending stream of what pilots used to call "grab-ass". You'd hop in a plane and go hunting, hoping to bounce an enemy or three before you got bounced. If you scored some kills (or ran low on ammo or fuel), you'd go running for the nearest friendly airfield to score your points and grab a new ride.
Ownership of airfields was fluid and constantly changing. Each field had a few anti-aircraft guns that were OK at plinking aircraft but deadly accurate at taking out paratroopers. A couple of bombers successfully silencing the "ack" at a given field would prompt calls for a Skytrain. Someone would grab a C-47 (which always came with its own paratroopers) and high-tail it for the disputed airfield. IF you weren't shot down and IF you got there before the ack regenerated and IF you got all 10 troopers out the door from above 1000 feet, your country could take control of the airfield. Having bases closer to the enemy meant less time flying over empty land to get to the action, and allowed you to respond more quickly to enemy action.
All of this came with a price, and a pretty steep one at that. Access to the GEnie network at speeds up to 1200 baud was $6/hour; 2400 baud was available at a premium rate. Yes, that's per hour; since GEnie was a time-share on General Electrics' mainframes, they figured that per-hour charges would prevent over-usage (and, yes, rates were even higher during business hours). Based on some of the monthly bills I remember, I was probably averaging 70 hours/month just on Air Warrior (there were other GEnie games that had my attention, too). Hard to justify $400/month online expenditures when one is a delivery guy for Domino's, barely making minimum wage.
I have a healthy respect for the story-telling and art design that have to be the hallmarks of any new MMOs. Today's gamers have come to expect cinema-level writing and art, along with an immersive experience and a definable path of progress. Game companies have come to realize that a constant stream of new content helps keep the world fresh for jaded old gamers, which keeps those monthly fees rolling in.
Me? I think I'm ok with my memories of creating my own content, high above the clouds in Air Warrior. And, if any of you old-timers see this (Dok, Jenni, Phoenix, Red Tail, and so many, many more), I probably still owe most of you a beer. Just name the place.
-- Lord Mhoram [AFU] (Retired) -- #5856
