I must be mad. While writing this, the installer for World of Warcraft is quietly ticking over in the background – constructing a portal to potentially the biggest, most pervasive time-suck ever invented.
For years I kept my distance from World of Warcraft – fearing some kind of tipping point where I never left the house any more, wore Think Geek t-shirts, kept a 20 sided dice in a pocket at all times, and knew exactly what “Boots of Infinite Striding” were.
Actually, I’ll admit to wearing Think Geek t-shirts – they kind of come as part of the software and web developer genetic make-up.
So. I’m returning to Azeroth.
I’m not entirely sure I remember how to play the game, or where I left my character (a particularly fine looking fellow, I might add). I never had a paid account, but then I was never a “serious” player anyway – I was happy just to go for a wander now and again, killing wargs – doing my own thing. Avoiding conflict with heavily armed children seemed to be a good tactic for survival.
If you happen to frequent the woods near Stormwind in the coming days, and catch sight of a fine looking fellow hiding behind trees like a girl while heavily armed ten year olds pass by on the road to nowhere, say hello.