Terminally Online
This is Terminally Online: PC Gamer’s very own MMO column. Every other week, I’ll be sharing my thoughts on the genre, interviewing fellow MMO-heads like me, taking a deep-dive into mechanics we’ve all taken for granted, and, occasionally, bringing in guest writers to talk about their MMO of choice.
Ah, the pick-up group (PUG). While MMORPGs are a social activity, let’s face it—unless you have a dedicated raid night going on, it’s unlikely you’re going to be doing the majority of your dungeons or raids with a group of people you know.
Enter the group/party finder, saviour of daily reward loops—you get matched with strangers, rock up into a dungeon, and hope to god that they are at least passably good. And for the most part, they are. MMOs have understood for a while now that casual content shouldn’t be a sweatfest, and as long as everyone’s mostly pushing their buttons? You’ll be okay.
But what happens when that’s not the case, and buttons are not being pushed? We’ve all been here: Your tank waits three business days before every pull. Your healer takes “the only HP that matters is the last one” to its logical extreme, and past it. Your DPS couldn’t pump their way out of a flat bicycle tyre. You watch, bleary-eyed, as wipe after wipe rolls in.
Someone says “wtf” in the party chat, and all hell breaks loose. Suddenly, your group’s at each other’s throats, and you’re sitting there—finger over the “leave group” button, wondering how many dunks at your mother’s expense you can take before you go and do something else.
It’s a pretty harsh way to test your strength of will—and I will confess, in the spirit of confession time, that I’ve not always held out. Yes, I have tanked that penalty when things have gone wrong, and I have often done so silently with my head hung low, because I really do have better things to do than to make three complete, foul-mouthed strangers cooperate.
Phil Savage
I’m here to the bitter end, baby. I don’t care if we’ve all got shit to do: it’s become a point of principle now. I’m here until we’re down to the last two people, just awkwardly staring at each other until someone types “well, I guess this one’s done?”. More seriously, I’m fine with carrying some inexperienced players through a messy completion. Let the ones quick to anger leave in a huff. We’ll usually find some replacements, get the job done, and have a much nicer time in the process.
Forgive me, for my sins are more severe than that: I have, in my weakest moments, Alt + F4’d out of a dungeon I was clearly messing up because I was having a bad day. I didn’t want to roll the dice on whether my group would be understanding or start making potentially correct assertions about my sexuality using politically incorrect words. It is rare, but I have done it.
When things are going well in the real world, I’m strong. I defend that DPS who is hitting like garbage, because they might just be new to the game. I couch my requests in friendly suggestions with smiles a-plenty, even though it’s the third time the tank’s stood in fire. I say “no worries!” to that terrible healer, and shrink my pulls.
But, if I’m tired? I think I’d much rather go play a videogame without people in it. As the wise saying goes: If it sucks, hit da bricks. But what about you? Do you bounce the moment the vibes are off, or are you one of those unsung heroes who stick it out to the end? Let us know in the comments.
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