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About the Author:
Ariana started calling herself "Silversmoke" right around the time she started writing really bad poetry. She got over the poetry, but kept the moniker. She smokes too much, and a google search of "Ariana" will eventually lead to the Welsh word for silver. It's very clever, see? Ariana was probably born in California, but she can't quite remember. Everything since then, however, is fair game for her to write about. She also lies all the damned time. Just ask anyone who wasn't there; they'll tell you she couldn't possibly have been either.
About her Bi-Weekly column:
Bi-po-lar Wan-der-ing
Noun: The slow movement of Silversmoke's location and direction, relative to everything else.
See Also: Not Always A Good Idea. Just look what happened to Mars.
View all articles by Ariana "Silversmoke" Osborne, 2HC Columnist...
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Deer
Last Friday, Warren Ellis linkcached a "social screen saver" called The Endless Forest. It's not a game, per se; there are no levels, no items (not exactly), no way your avatar can die. In short, your avatar is a stag (there are no does) and you can run around a fairly limited (despite the name) forest.
There are a few "forest activities" in which your stag can engage. First, however, you must have registered a sigil for your beast. A random symbol generator spins through millions of possible permutations of a few basic glyphs. Once you settle on one that strikes your fancy (and emphasis is put here on the fact that none of the symbols mean anything in game), you can log on and interact with other deer. I was amused when the third glyph I randomly generated was a feasible symbol for "silversmoke": three dots in a triangular pattern above a curlicue. The little things make me laugh.
On to the game as it is. Three aspects of the deer are customizable: antlers, mask, and pelt. However, no player can change their own appearance, only that of other deer. Should be easy enough to find a fellow player to change one's appearance, save for the fact that there is no chat enabled in game. Communication is entirely non-verbal. There's a smallish dictionary of actions that a deer can cycle through: Head tilt, nodding and shaking of the head, three degrees of bows, rearing up on the hind legs, and rolling on the back. Players in game easily learn to communicate "yes", "no", and "what". Laughter is universal, and most players default to the lowest bow when greeting new players. There is also the ability to call, a sound that can be heard through the entire world.
It's as interesting as it is time consuming to watch communication evolve in a non-verbal setting. Yes and No are hard-wired into most western cultures, but when desire for a certain color-combination is motivating a player, it's amazing to see how they'll go about getting what they want. Cliques and sub-groups have started to form and -- this is the interesting part -- players are staring to group based on color and masks. As far as I've been able to tell, no one pays much attention to antlers when separating into groups. Most players treat antlers, as RANDOM as they are, as a status symbol. Silly antlers are the mischievous players, smallish antlers are the shy ones, and the largest racks are on the most aggressive and standoffish players. There's no way to tell how many of these actions are based on pre-conceived notions. It's just really nifty to observe.
There's little more of interest to the game as it stands. I'm not a fan of "pet" style games where the entire point is to customize the appearance of a character, and it's impossible to delve any deeper into the psychology of it as a player. I'd love to get my hands on some hard statistics of the actual players, but I also hope that's all kept understandably private. However, what follows is a case study of the past several hours.
For the past several days I've dropped in and observed difference in the mannerisms of "newbie" players and pros. I've noted the location of reactive items in game (mushrooms for changing mask, pine cones for antlers, resting next to another deer for pelt change, and a couple of "hot spots") My second or third time dropping in my antlers were changed to the largest possible rack. Afterward, my avatar is greeted with the second lowest of bows when interacting with other deer. I've collected several pelt colors for observation. Very few deer seem to pay attention to the different symbols.
Tonight, around 2am, there are only two other active deer online. I observe both of them for some time, and decide both are fairly new players. Most of their interaction seems to be accidental and experimental. I remove myself from game and respawn some 15 minutes later when they've moved on.
Near the standing stones in game, there is an area where deer may turn their own pelts bright white. I locate the deer, turn my avatar's pelt brilliant white, and move to intercept them.
Their reactions are immediately respectful. Both deer bow, first the second lowest, then the lowest bow. I remove my white pelt (only moments before it would have faded on it's own--it's a temporary effect). Both deer bow again. My avatar acknowledges then with a slight nod. I have kept my large antlers.
I stand still for several minutes. Both players fidget slightly, but neither stray from my immediate vicinity. After I'm satisfied that both characters think I am some form of deity or advanced player, I slowly walk away, pause, call out, and wait for them to follow. Both players hesitate, and then follow. I have two students.
It briefly occurs to me that there may very well be something wrong with me.
I lead both deer to a tree covered with mushrooms. I have my avatar eat, and then change the masks of both. I back away and nod. Both players walk around the tree several times before the first one manages to eat. He approaches my avatar and casts the mask on me. It's a silly looking mask, so I have my avatar roll on his back. Then I step back. The other character approaches and practices on my avatar as well. I remove the mask and shake my head, taking another step back. My students make several changes to each other's masks, and each time they accidentally effect my avatar, I shake my head and call out, taking a step back. After a few minutes, they leave my avatar alone and cast exclusively on each other. Time to move on.
My avatar walks away, waits for a moment, then takes off at a run. I don't bother to wait more than a second at a time now. Both players would probably follow me off a cliff, if there were one. We approach a stand of trees of several kinds, and I walk to each of them in turn, shaking my head. The last tree in the stand is a pine, and I lean against it until a pine cone falls out. This I have my avatar consume, and then change the antlers of the deer that was quickest to learn last time. This time, both students fall to quickly, and cast antler changes on each other for a few moments, without either attempting to effect me.
Again I run off, this time without pausing. I pause in a meadow and turn to watch both players. They walk around for a few moments while I stand perfectly still. One of them bows to me, and my avatar nods and sits down. Both of them pace for a few moments before one breaks and runs off. I stand, call out, and wait for him to return. When he does, I have my avatar rear up and call again. The player bows and stays put while my avatar sits again. After a moment, the deer that ran away approaches and sits next to me. I stand up and back away. When the other player stands, he looks around for a moment and then walks over to the other player to cast the pelt spell he's just gained. My avatar nods and watches while the players sit next to each other, stand, and change pelts for a few moments.
At this point, one of the players drops connection. I quickly have my avatar nod as if I in any way expected that, and then turn to the remaining player and bow slightly. The remaining deer prostrates himself on the ground in the most ridiculous and heartwarming few minutes of fealty I think are possible in a game about venison. This, I'm certain, is how gods are born. But, what the hell, I've got an abject servant and loyal student, may as well reward him. We've been playing for about an hour at this point.
I walk to a standing fountain at the head of the river, and walk my avatar through. My pelt turns red (this is one of the lesser known easter eggs in the game). The other player hesitates for a moment before following. I bow again, and take off at speed towards a mushroom circle.
This, I figure, will be the hardest test in game. I've no real intention of playing anymore, and, with any luck, I've started a new religion. I walk into the middle of a mushroom circle and sit down. The other player immediately sits down. It's a good start, but to get this effect, a player must sit perfectly still for five minutes. After about a minute, the other player stands and starts to walk away. I stand up, run around in front of the other player, shake my head and rear up. This, I think, is why animals have teeth. It's really hard to put another creature in it's place with no pain. Of course it can be done, it just takes patience--but how often, in the wild, are creatures afforded the benefit of extra time?
The other player bows deeply and stays there as I walk back to the circle. This time when I sit down, the players sits and stays. Obviously, there must be some point to this exerciser, as pointless as it seems. After five minutes of sitting absolutely still, my avatar "falls asleep". The other character waits a moment, then stands up--too soon. I stand up, run in front of the other player, and call out again. No, I wasn't done playing. Get back in the circle. However, as I'd started to suspect, the other character has no further desire to play any game that requires sitting still for five minutes straight. He turns to run away, and I again maneuver in front of him. At that point, I cast the ability I acquired by falling asleep in the circle, and turn the other character into a frog.
Yup. I'm that kind of god, I guess. My avatar rolls on his back laughing as the other character hops around in confusion, croaking desperately. Then I log off.
All in all, I'd say I've exhausted the entertainment value of that.
Except for this: A couple of hours later I logged in briefly, and located both of the deer I had interacted with earlier. I removed the antlers from my avatar and observed them briefly. Both were leading other deer around the world, showing them mushrooms and pine cones. I figure in a few hundred 'net years (or a month, give or take) the players will tell tales in the game forums of the pure white deer with the giant antlers that shed his pelt for a day and took two disciples under his rack, and showed them how to teach others. Ok, probably not. But damned if it wouldn't be a pretty parable. |
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