of botting and gaming: a peek into magic world online

The name of the game itself, running in the background, sounded cheesy at first. Then the graphics, slightly only higher than that of Ragnarok Online, aren't exactly appealing either. Yet Magic World Online, or MWO, is interesting enough that I'm still logging in after some weeks.

The game is basically country versus country--Dynasty vs. Empire. Both countries have the same basic, self-explanatory classes--Warrior (Melee), Archer (Ranged), Mage (Nuker) and Summoner (Healer)--which later on go to detailed paths. The opposing countries can even buy each other's goods through the in-game Auction. Customization is also very minimal--only when you chance armor can you look different, and you have to shell out 50k gold to change hairstyle plus another 50k and a bottle of Plant Dye to change hair color. Equipments are also locked to their respective classes, so no Warriors in magic armor for anyone. Pets are available only for the Summoner class, while the mount system is for all classes and gives your character additional attributes once equipped.

As stated earlier, if you are looking for a graphics-heavy game, this game is not for you. MWO is, in a lot of ways, similar to Ragnarok Online: so-called 2-and-a-half-d graphics, grind-heavy in the later levels, and of course, botting. To paraphrase from their website, MWO is the only game that has a built-in bot. Of course this is not the case, since other games such as Granado Espada also have bots. The difference is that in the case of GE, the game would be insanely hard to play if you don't have a bot, since you are in control of three characters. In MWO, you can play it without a bot, only that it takes longer.

The problem with this built-in bot is that it raises some (I daresay) ethical questions in gaming. If technically the strongest contention against botting is that it is a third-party program or it only works when modifying the client, then with this built-in bot, it is made legal since it comes with the game itself. If botting is seen then as cheating--since law-abiding players in other games (where bots are illegal) do not use bots--then by providing the bot to everyone, no one would level up faster or gain the upper hand just because of a bot since everyone has access to it.

However, the drawbacks of botting already show. I can't play my Temple Warrior in MWO as well as my other characters in other games simply because I haven't had enough practice with it. There was once even an issue on Country Chat wherein a player complained of another player KS'ing her; yet since the KS'er was only a bot, no one can do anything about it except wait for the player to return and turn off the bot.

With the bot, too, multiple logging in of accounts are commonplace. In a thread in their official forums, there was a guide to getting rich, which explains how to setup farming characters that can farm at the same time. Since you can easily get rich in the game, the effectiveness of the newly-released item mall remains to be seen, as some item mall items can be obtained through normal means in-game.

MWO's Mount system, though, puts a little bit of manual work back in the game. Since mounts need to be leveled up through feeding before a player can ride it, and the feeding cannot be automated, to get a rideable mount you do need to play (or rather wait for your mount to go hungry). And since the food--or powders--needed by the mount come from item decomposition, which is also done manually, you do need to put in some hard work just to get a rideable mount.

All in all, though playable and quite enjoyable at first, MWO is nothing truly new in gaming; and despite challenging some ethical points of gaming itself, it still does bring some semblance of balance back in the game.

ending summer/starting over

[quote]So there, finally writing again.

It's been more than a month since I last wrote, mainly because of a) summer classes b) in-game duties and c) sheer procrastination. A lot has happened--finally shifting to BA Creative Writing (*yay!* at first, but *groan* after, now the real battle begins), shakeups in the game (too many to mention) and literary theory opening up my world (well kinda). I even meant to change the layout for my personal spaces online--meaning blog, Friendster, and alter-ego--but since I'm a stuck in a little creative rut right now, I need to write it off first (literally).

As I've written, I had summer class--CL121 under Sir Aureus and CL150 under Sir Capili. Pretty much opposites--Sir Aureus' class (Literary theory from Plato to the Romantics) can really sweep you off your feet with his lively discussions on philosophies and their manifestations in everyday life.[/quote]

That was the post I was writing the other day and went unfinished as Blogger and/or ScribeFire hanged up on me. Since it's noon and I'm not really in the mood to reminisce, I'll just go on what my plans are for this blog.

Next few posts would be concentrating on the gamer side of me: reviews of Magic World Online (MWO) and Rohan Online. I'll also be changing the background to something else--though what exactly else eludes me, since (as I've stated earlier) I'm in a creative rut and other layouts still need to be sorted out. I'll also be putting tags starting from the game reviews, and clean up the blogroll (since some of the links there are dead).

So I guess that's it for now, prolly later I'll be posting the MWO review.

phobia

Fear.

It's this fear, paralyzing, that kept me from writing all this time. This fear that made me check my email a little too obsessively, to answer several Friendster surveys that asked the same old questions, to read news articles that normally I wouldn't have read (not that it's a completely bad thing). This fear I mask in laughter and I try to drown in happy moments. Good thing there's ScribeFire (yes a shameless plug)--at least I'm comforted by the thought that there's half-a-window of another site open.

And this fear's source I do not exactly know, nor completely comprehend.

Maybe because I am again afraid to make mistakes. That whatever I say or write be branded as shit by those I respect. I would rather be criticized by a thousand voices, loud yet anonymous, than be whispered spiteful words by a friend. And to write well, one must think; yet I am tired of this exercise. Because once you start, you have to end it; if you've ended it, you must've started it well.

Maybe because in this act of writing, I acknowledge the fact that I am again alone, like I was around a year ago whilst in the flurry of deadline-chasing. The main reason I write then was because I had no one to talk to, and with this, I acknowledge the fact that the guy that I used to share everything with had completely become a stranger, and all efforts to create a conversation have been futile.

Haven't I said that I'm moving on? And haven't we, just a few weeks ago and a few weeks after the break, treated each other as friends like the old times? Again and again I ask myself these two questions until they retrogress into incoherent ramblings, and slowly silenced by sleep. Unfortunately I cannot cry it off, just like I did the first, from which I have gone from without remorse.

What I get for being such a traitor.

Fear moves, mocks. When I, the dominant, has been silenced.

skyline

Written last March 14, a few hours before the end.

The view at night
from a friend's car.

It is usallly like this
city lights flashing away.

I know--
we've seen this carnival
a thousand times.

Only now,
you are not with me,
not at my side,
and the view's different tonight.

The stylus lay in the mess that is my room, unbothered.

Last night was the end that I had refused to believe would come, despite seeing all the signs. Though the scenario played endlessly before, as a nightmare uninvited, I was still caught off-guard. Or rather, you can never be prepared, especially when you know you have to break your heart for the greater good.

And this morning, as I went around this city for my usual routine, it was only then that I realized how this city is stained by memories of you. Of us. How the pillars at the train station remembered how you embrace me, and how you walked with me when I had that sprain and everything. How I tried to look for those adhesive table linings that I had hidden once in between the styli at that store, only to find that both linings and styli are gone, replaced by quite overpriced pens.

How every step reminded me of you, the moments I spent with you; and how I held your hand when we walked together.

The stylus still lay among my stuff. I never got to give it to you.