Name
Nicole (Faixella.5843)
Age (must be 18+)
26
Do you have any friends in the guild? If so, who?
Not yet, but I hope to earn them.
Main Character
Kellis Rhinehart
Character Name
Race
Human
Profession(Class)
Elementalist
What role do you wish to play in the guild? For example: PvP, PvE, Casual/Social
I'm an extremely skilled player of many games and a quick learner with new ones, who has developed a ruthless determination to take on the underdog's challenge through necessity-turned-enjoyment. Though I'd prefer to play with only a casual's promise of activity to avoid letting any game place demands above my real life commitments, I frequently exceed expectations.
I am a strong and independant pioneer of new territory, skills, and strategies, capable of leading the charge, holding the line, and supporting the group--or switching roles as is needed--and these skills serve me well in real life and in games. But I'm not here seeking leadership or responsibility. I want to join this guild as an excuse to relax and have fun without obligation.
Without friends to fight for, or a group to be part of that is greater than my individual pursuits, I find that my attention isn't held to a particular game for very long.
Small warning--my friends and I tend to be altoholics, a byproduct of playing many different pen and paper roleplaying games. Both myself and my husband have played MMOs long enough to know to designate only one main ever, but we like to have the room to master multiple roles.
Which previous MMO's or online games have you played and how long for?
1) I didn't start playing MMO's until college, but my first experience was actually as an artist, helping friends in highschool produce small games and projects--most of them sprite based computer games. It wasn't until I was already an adult that I picked up a controller for myself. I played Runescape since its Alpha testing as a friend's college project, Everquest briefly with friends, and had a fast, brief education on older games with a group of college friends who were incensed that I'd never heard of the Mario Brothers games before then. Or Resident Evil. Or Final Fantasy. In fact, they were incenced that the only games I played or produced art for were mostly Dungeons and Dragons 2.0 and 3.0 spinoffs. I've come a long way since then.
2) My first extended experience with an MMO was with World of Warcraft in Burning Crusade, before the advent of Spellpower. I played a healing priest then, in all healing gear (On a PVP server, mind you). The friends that I picked up the game to play with *told* me that I would be playing with them. "Make a healer," they told me. "Our guild needs healers!" So I did, wanting to be the most use to my friends that I could possibly be. Cunning would save me, I thought, where armor could not avail. And my spells would OBVIOUSLY make me more tennacious than any fool with a sword....
Oh, but no one warned me about healing gear. Or rogues. No one even MENTIONED rogues.
I sincerely thought the game was supposed to be that difficult, where melee was death and every combat was a battle of terrain, wits, and often attrition. Players could take mind-controlled swan dives off of high places (my favorite!), but enemies only spider climbed back up and kicked my teeth in. Followed shortly by the rest of my imploding face.
I'm very much used to the "one mistake and you're dead" mindset of roleplaying games, those that demand cunning, tactical prediction, and thinking outside of the box to even catch a glimpse of success. Real Time Strategy games, and the Civilization series are my forte, and a study of history and war tactics was the nesting ground of my skill in campaign building for D&D. So when I spent sometimes minutes killing one monster with terribly weak spells, micromanaging my abysmal mana regeneration, playing the terrain as much as with number crunching, only for the monster that I killed just prior to respawn and finish me off, or for an enemy player to find me "cute", I learned just how deep my reserves of patience ran. No help, no friends who would take time off of their busy instancing to help me until I reached the "worthwhile" level of 45, I believed it was because I was terrible at the game and needed to learn a lot more, not because I had chosen a very difficult path.
Just how badly I wished someone would have had taken the time to mention the difference between spell damage and healing power, and how badly I wished someone would have accompanied me for a way--not to help, but to at least provide company--very much influences the sort of time and patience I give to other players. I remember the frustration and degraded feeling keenly, and if a kind encouragement from me can alleviate the same from someone else, I find that to be a worthwhile expenditure of time.
3) Though I eventually came to lead a guild (more because I accrued friends and followers than because I sought leadership), I also trained my replacements and passed on that mantle earlier this year, wanting to return to a pursuit of fun and friends in wider circles and other games. I feel badly for those I left behind because many people have followed suit and left them a little bare for skilled and high-ranking help, but "casual" means I'm allowed to take breaks too.
Were you a part of a guild? What was your experience?
My first experience with guilds was in World of Warcraft, where unrealized skill resulting from a long and arduous journey to level 70 and a positive attitude lead me quickly both into a position of great renown and prestige among some of the top PVPers and raiders on the Stonemaul server, and also left me heartbroken when those whom I trusted began to use their own skill, success, and prestige as an excuse to draw lines between who I could and could not spend time playing with. I may have very quickly reached the enviable pinnacle of success in WoW, but found the position to be devoid of the bonds of friendship that I believed I would be fighting for.
When there was no more challenge, I sought my own--downgrading gear and testing my limits--seeking out 5 man groups with terribly geared and unskilled players who had all but given up hope, in order to sharpen my skills privately, respectfully help them develop theirs if I could, and because I could do something wonderful for people who no longer believed that kind players were around. Though it left me with torn loyalties in my early days, I still retain that early idealism to this day, finding it to be a far more lasting joy than the newest purple letters on a paper doll.
On a night where no other healers arrived for the Black Temple, with only Illidan left, I found what it was I was looking for. I asked if we could try--just once--with anyone crazy enough to take on the challenge with me, to fight with our feral druids and their Innervation, and only the single healer that was left--me. They'd been in fights where I was the only one left alive by the end, but never from the beginning.
That fight wasn't about the loot or the grind, or about being the best of the best. It was about everyone realizing for the first time in months that we were in over our heads, and we needed to pull together for each other--and for the wild, defiant fun of the game without fear of loot whores or failure. Or at least, that's what I thought it meant. Who knows--that may have been terror in their voices rather than excitement; not that anyone would admit it.
But we won. In a mad and terrifying fight, after the raid leader called it a wipe, with only a little left to go, those who were still alive fought on and won. But, while I found a new love for greater challenge, others took more pride in that victory than they should have. Because of that, I regret it a little.
The guild split in two not a month later. Those who thought they were the best that the server had to offer formed a new guild--as I found "hardcores" often do, and asked that I go with them, and leave those who "couldn't take the game seriously enough" or "don't have the skill and/or gear" behind. But while I enjoyed high end raiding, they were asking me to leave behind my friends.
That was the end of my hardcore experience.
We parted on good terms, but the game wasn't about gear and prestige and hardcore raids to me. That part was fun, when I was doing it to help my friends and those who weren't in enough gear yet to feel confident about their skill, but where it lead adults older than me to base name calling and drawing lines between who could be our friends and not based solely on the sums of numbers on performance meters in a game... it reminded me who my friends were and why, and taught me that I needed to be a lot more careful in the future.
I continued to play World of Warcraft (pausing only briefly for things like Star Trek Online, Diablo III, SWtOR. It's been the same formula each time--casual, social, for friendship and fun), but I joined a different guild, a casual guild of friends, and played for years, enjoying my time more thoroughly where I could teach and play with people that were picked for fun, attitude, and because we were family and friends. Some people followed me, others went their own way.
I PVPed, I farmed endlessly for flowers, I mastered every class, but only taught Priest and Mage. For six years, the "core" group of friends from that first change stuck together through two incarnations--the second a guild of our own reluctant formation, which is still around. We raided, but didn't worry about raiding. We progressed, but where gear trickled and slowed, we never tore out each others' throats or bickered over the final fights. We held events, but more often things like drunken runs, strip raiding (take off a piece of clothing every time you die, and try to get specific members killed!) or pantsless raids (take off as much gear from your character as you feel comfortable with, and see how many bosses we can take down with fewer stats before wiping--this has led to naked tanks, which lasted surprizingly longer than expected during Wrath of the Lich King....).
We look out for our own, and our friendship exists outside the game even as most of us have moved on to other parts of our lives--and the only demand we make is that real life comes first. Our community has grown both smaller and larger as friends and family have joined us, and the original group of skilled players have moved, gotten married, had kids, and we now play far more than just World of Warcraft.
But Guild Wars has no place for small casual communities, and I have no love for large (or small) hardcore communities. A game should be for fun, and an MMO should be a social activity, in my opinion--otherwise the experience feels hollow and worthless to me. Many of my friends are here, with no promises to be part of the same guild.
I may be the first of many to apply here, I may be the only one, or I may seek to help your members individually for a time before moving on to another stage in my life. I hope that you will understand and respect that, as I (and we) understand and respect that you have no obligation to invite the rest of my friends, or even my husband.
How did you hear about the Guild?
Honestly, I searched for guilds on Yak's Bend on Google. After browsing a few that claimed to be casual and spoke of ultimate endgame goals (yeesh, I've heard that line before. I call them, "firework guilds"--you probably have your own more-or-less affectionate entendre), yours appeared to be the largest one that sounded honestly casual and was vocal about accepting new applicants. Plus, you can't beat good communication and a snappy website.
Your guild master was online at the time and responded to my brief inquiry about application formatting too--also helpful.
What will you bring to the ALTTABME community? (Chatty? Skilled? Funny? Helping?)
Being the first to drop my things and help a player in need has landed me in all KINDS of trouble (that I don't regret one bit!) in other games--including new expectations of management and leadership whether or not I want them. But I only want to be a member of this guild, and I want nothing in return but the friendly atmosphere and casual fun that's sure to await me.
I bring skill--in game and out, a keen wit, a kind heart, and an excited spirit. All else is a token of the time--at the whim of fun and need.
Will Arcanix be the only guild you join?
I have high hopes that this is the place I'm looking for, and I'm willing to put in the time to honestly find out. If I am accepted, I plan to treat my time here like I would as a member in any of my old guilds. I have no illusions about staying here forever if I am unwelcome, needed elsewhere, or if real life calls. But I have no plans to join another Guild Wars guild.
Is there anything else you would like to throw in here at the end?
Apologies for the long-winded post, and best of luck to you all, regardless of whether or not I'm to join you!
Nicole (Faixella.5843)
Age (must be 18+)
26
Do you have any friends in the guild? If so, who?
Not yet, but I hope to earn them.
Main Character
Kellis Rhinehart
Character Name
Race
Human
Profession(Class)
Elementalist
What role do you wish to play in the guild? For example: PvP, PvE, Casual/Social
I'm an extremely skilled player of many games and a quick learner with new ones, who has developed a ruthless determination to take on the underdog's challenge through necessity-turned-enjoyment. Though I'd prefer to play with only a casual's promise of activity to avoid letting any game place demands above my real life commitments, I frequently exceed expectations.
I am a strong and independant pioneer of new territory, skills, and strategies, capable of leading the charge, holding the line, and supporting the group--or switching roles as is needed--and these skills serve me well in real life and in games. But I'm not here seeking leadership or responsibility. I want to join this guild as an excuse to relax and have fun without obligation.
Without friends to fight for, or a group to be part of that is greater than my individual pursuits, I find that my attention isn't held to a particular game for very long.
Small warning--my friends and I tend to be altoholics, a byproduct of playing many different pen and paper roleplaying games. Both myself and my husband have played MMOs long enough to know to designate only one main ever, but we like to have the room to master multiple roles.
Which previous MMO's or online games have you played and how long for?
1) I didn't start playing MMO's until college, but my first experience was actually as an artist, helping friends in highschool produce small games and projects--most of them sprite based computer games. It wasn't until I was already an adult that I picked up a controller for myself. I played Runescape since its Alpha testing as a friend's college project, Everquest briefly with friends, and had a fast, brief education on older games with a group of college friends who were incensed that I'd never heard of the Mario Brothers games before then. Or Resident Evil. Or Final Fantasy. In fact, they were incenced that the only games I played or produced art for were mostly Dungeons and Dragons 2.0 and 3.0 spinoffs. I've come a long way since then.
2) My first extended experience with an MMO was with World of Warcraft in Burning Crusade, before the advent of Spellpower. I played a healing priest then, in all healing gear (On a PVP server, mind you). The friends that I picked up the game to play with *told* me that I would be playing with them. "Make a healer," they told me. "Our guild needs healers!" So I did, wanting to be the most use to my friends that I could possibly be. Cunning would save me, I thought, where armor could not avail. And my spells would OBVIOUSLY make me more tennacious than any fool with a sword....
Oh, but no one warned me about healing gear. Or rogues. No one even MENTIONED rogues.
I sincerely thought the game was supposed to be that difficult, where melee was death and every combat was a battle of terrain, wits, and often attrition. Players could take mind-controlled swan dives off of high places (my favorite!), but enemies only spider climbed back up and kicked my teeth in. Followed shortly by the rest of my imploding face.
I'm very much used to the "one mistake and you're dead" mindset of roleplaying games, those that demand cunning, tactical prediction, and thinking outside of the box to even catch a glimpse of success. Real Time Strategy games, and the Civilization series are my forte, and a study of history and war tactics was the nesting ground of my skill in campaign building for D&D. So when I spent sometimes minutes killing one monster with terribly weak spells, micromanaging my abysmal mana regeneration, playing the terrain as much as with number crunching, only for the monster that I killed just prior to respawn and finish me off, or for an enemy player to find me "cute", I learned just how deep my reserves of patience ran. No help, no friends who would take time off of their busy instancing to help me until I reached the "worthwhile" level of 45, I believed it was because I was terrible at the game and needed to learn a lot more, not because I had chosen a very difficult path.
Just how badly I wished someone would have had taken the time to mention the difference between spell damage and healing power, and how badly I wished someone would have accompanied me for a way--not to help, but to at least provide company--very much influences the sort of time and patience I give to other players. I remember the frustration and degraded feeling keenly, and if a kind encouragement from me can alleviate the same from someone else, I find that to be a worthwhile expenditure of time.
3) Though I eventually came to lead a guild (more because I accrued friends and followers than because I sought leadership), I also trained my replacements and passed on that mantle earlier this year, wanting to return to a pursuit of fun and friends in wider circles and other games. I feel badly for those I left behind because many people have followed suit and left them a little bare for skilled and high-ranking help, but "casual" means I'm allowed to take breaks too.
Were you a part of a guild? What was your experience?
My first experience with guilds was in World of Warcraft, where unrealized skill resulting from a long and arduous journey to level 70 and a positive attitude lead me quickly both into a position of great renown and prestige among some of the top PVPers and raiders on the Stonemaul server, and also left me heartbroken when those whom I trusted began to use their own skill, success, and prestige as an excuse to draw lines between who I could and could not spend time playing with. I may have very quickly reached the enviable pinnacle of success in WoW, but found the position to be devoid of the bonds of friendship that I believed I would be fighting for.
When there was no more challenge, I sought my own--downgrading gear and testing my limits--seeking out 5 man groups with terribly geared and unskilled players who had all but given up hope, in order to sharpen my skills privately, respectfully help them develop theirs if I could, and because I could do something wonderful for people who no longer believed that kind players were around. Though it left me with torn loyalties in my early days, I still retain that early idealism to this day, finding it to be a far more lasting joy than the newest purple letters on a paper doll.
On a night where no other healers arrived for the Black Temple, with only Illidan left, I found what it was I was looking for. I asked if we could try--just once--with anyone crazy enough to take on the challenge with me, to fight with our feral druids and their Innervation, and only the single healer that was left--me. They'd been in fights where I was the only one left alive by the end, but never from the beginning.
That fight wasn't about the loot or the grind, or about being the best of the best. It was about everyone realizing for the first time in months that we were in over our heads, and we needed to pull together for each other--and for the wild, defiant fun of the game without fear of loot whores or failure. Or at least, that's what I thought it meant. Who knows--that may have been terror in their voices rather than excitement; not that anyone would admit it.
But we won. In a mad and terrifying fight, after the raid leader called it a wipe, with only a little left to go, those who were still alive fought on and won. But, while I found a new love for greater challenge, others took more pride in that victory than they should have. Because of that, I regret it a little.
The guild split in two not a month later. Those who thought they were the best that the server had to offer formed a new guild--as I found "hardcores" often do, and asked that I go with them, and leave those who "couldn't take the game seriously enough" or "don't have the skill and/or gear" behind. But while I enjoyed high end raiding, they were asking me to leave behind my friends.
That was the end of my hardcore experience.
We parted on good terms, but the game wasn't about gear and prestige and hardcore raids to me. That part was fun, when I was doing it to help my friends and those who weren't in enough gear yet to feel confident about their skill, but where it lead adults older than me to base name calling and drawing lines between who could be our friends and not based solely on the sums of numbers on performance meters in a game... it reminded me who my friends were and why, and taught me that I needed to be a lot more careful in the future.
I continued to play World of Warcraft (pausing only briefly for things like Star Trek Online, Diablo III, SWtOR. It's been the same formula each time--casual, social, for friendship and fun), but I joined a different guild, a casual guild of friends, and played for years, enjoying my time more thoroughly where I could teach and play with people that were picked for fun, attitude, and because we were family and friends. Some people followed me, others went their own way.
I PVPed, I farmed endlessly for flowers, I mastered every class, but only taught Priest and Mage. For six years, the "core" group of friends from that first change stuck together through two incarnations--the second a guild of our own reluctant formation, which is still around. We raided, but didn't worry about raiding. We progressed, but where gear trickled and slowed, we never tore out each others' throats or bickered over the final fights. We held events, but more often things like drunken runs, strip raiding (take off a piece of clothing every time you die, and try to get specific members killed!) or pantsless raids (take off as much gear from your character as you feel comfortable with, and see how many bosses we can take down with fewer stats before wiping--this has led to naked tanks, which lasted surprizingly longer than expected during Wrath of the Lich King....).
We look out for our own, and our friendship exists outside the game even as most of us have moved on to other parts of our lives--and the only demand we make is that real life comes first. Our community has grown both smaller and larger as friends and family have joined us, and the original group of skilled players have moved, gotten married, had kids, and we now play far more than just World of Warcraft.
But Guild Wars has no place for small casual communities, and I have no love for large (or small) hardcore communities. A game should be for fun, and an MMO should be a social activity, in my opinion--otherwise the experience feels hollow and worthless to me. Many of my friends are here, with no promises to be part of the same guild.
I may be the first of many to apply here, I may be the only one, or I may seek to help your members individually for a time before moving on to another stage in my life. I hope that you will understand and respect that, as I (and we) understand and respect that you have no obligation to invite the rest of my friends, or even my husband.
How did you hear about the Guild?
Honestly, I searched for guilds on Yak's Bend on Google. After browsing a few that claimed to be casual and spoke of ultimate endgame goals (yeesh, I've heard that line before. I call them, "firework guilds"--you probably have your own more-or-less affectionate entendre), yours appeared to be the largest one that sounded honestly casual and was vocal about accepting new applicants. Plus, you can't beat good communication and a snappy website.
Your guild master was online at the time and responded to my brief inquiry about application formatting too--also helpful.
What will you bring to the ALTTABME community? (Chatty? Skilled? Funny? Helping?)
Being the first to drop my things and help a player in need has landed me in all KINDS of trouble (that I don't regret one bit!) in other games--including new expectations of management and leadership whether or not I want them. But I only want to be a member of this guild, and I want nothing in return but the friendly atmosphere and casual fun that's sure to await me.
I bring skill--in game and out, a keen wit, a kind heart, and an excited spirit. All else is a token of the time--at the whim of fun and need.
Will Arcanix be the only guild you join?
I have high hopes that this is the place I'm looking for, and I'm willing to put in the time to honestly find out. If I am accepted, I plan to treat my time here like I would as a member in any of my old guilds. I have no illusions about staying here forever if I am unwelcome, needed elsewhere, or if real life calls. But I have no plans to join another Guild Wars guild.
Is there anything else you would like to throw in here at the end?
Apologies for the long-winded post, and best of luck to you all, regardless of whether or not I'm to join you!
