Hey.
Welcome to the new blog.
The days of Trackhoof, mighty hunter are gone. He’s here, but in the way that memories of a friend stay with you, long after you’ve fallen out of touch.
Some of you wanted to get to know me better. Now, you get that chance. (I’ll still use the name; it’s what you know me best as.)
I’m just a guy over in New Jersey. Y’know, the States, apple pie and all that. For me, WoW was an escape from, well, life. Honestly, I needed it.
I’d been working in retail, at a certain major electronics chain that produces all manner of spiffy mechanics and a highly celebrated music player, and honestly, the hours were killing me. No reason or rhythm to the schedule, closing one day and opening the next. WoW was one of the things in life that was certain.
The other was the fact that I was, and still, am living at home. Yep, 22 and living at home.
(Thankfully, my considerate parents allowed me a room that wasn’t in the basement. Take that, cliche!)
But, as things came to a crest, I realized I had to quit my job. I found my way out, and I’m glad I took it.
Also, it happened that I lost my affection for the game. Continuing to play and saying that I still enjoyed and reveled in the challenge would’ve been… hollow. I’d been at the top of my game. I, literally, started doing the CC for a Black Morass run, zoned out during the process, looked up at the clock, looked back down at the screen. Aeonus was dead, the whole thing was done, and somebody said, “Great CC, Track!”.
And I was #3 on the damage meters for the run. CC, yeah, but #3 ain’t bad when you’re the wrangler.
Hell, it wasn’t that hard. Burn one down, grab the whelps, trap / sleep the other dragonkin. On the beacon ones, I remember just pumping the rift callers full of bullets and helping pummel the dragons.
But seriously, I was half asleep and I did that. I was much better awake. But nobody’s on during the day, and it was either 2 hours of BG’s, or 2 hours of quests, as I disciplined myself to go for flyer gold or for crossbow.
Then, last week, I just gave up. It had become a job. The fun, the challenge was gone. I was treating mobs like I would if I were PVPing against them, and brought out my 65 pet against 69’s and 70’s to make it more interesting. It felt like I had taken a new job, in place of the old one, and no joy was left for me here. I had skill, but worthy opponents outgeared me; and the only way to get the gear to even the playing field was to laboriously grind out pointless quests to eventually get keyed, and spend hours in other dungeons looking for the pieces that would give me the edge.
I don’t know about you, but the benefits hardly outweigh the effort. So I left, satisfied in my own skill. I’ve beaten better opponents with less gear. But when some foe has almost twice your health, regardless of how good you are and how fast your arrows fly, your doom comes with the slow, plodding steps of a key-turner.
Eff that.
-Track / Brian
Backseat Elvis 