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Real Life Questing For Gold
The Escapist has a funny piece that reveals why real life quests are hard to complete. From the article: "I should explain the scenario. I, the brave wizard, had transferred through a portal into this dimension, but could not leave the spot on which I stood. It was imperative to the survival of the universe that the magic spell I held (a rolled up scroll of paper, engagingly tied with a purple ribbon) be given to the girl in the red cloak and hood, waiting outside what you humans call 'the shoe shop,' 300 yards down the road. Upon completion of this vital task, a bag of gold coins would be given as a reward. In my dimension, chocolate coins are of the very highest worth. Would anyone go out of their way for me, in order to be the savior of all mankind, for the prize of a bag of candy?"
But after reading the article, I'm convinced guys like this really are better off staying in their parents' basement.
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And if one thing should be taken from this experience, above anything else, should the fate of the universe ever be in your hands, only bother to seek the aid of girls under the age of 30.
Or, should you want just about anything else - happiness, fun, etc. look there too. At least in my experience.
-Styopa
Until he tells me where I can find Mithril and Truesilver deposits.
While it's understandable that so many would turn away this oddball magician, I really wonder what would happen if you were to just play the role of a normal person who has (for lack of a better word) a quest that needs completion.
The pessimist inside me wants to say that a real problem would get similar results, but I'd like to see what sorts of people would actually go for a "quest" of sorts...
Yeah, the Escapist is always laid out wrong. The secret it to hit the button labeled "text: http://www.escapistmagazine.com/print/30/25
As it turns out, there are more pages to the story than what you read! Le shock!
Come on, who didn't try this in high school? You stand out in front of a liquor store and offer a simple "quest" to the various passers-by... Very rarely does it work, and sometimes you aggro some nasty stuff...
News, its not, entertaining and refreshing, it very much is
:S
I would love nothing more than to walk down the street and see someone with a giant yellow ! above their heads ready to charge me with a task to save the world (or kill a few murlocs) and recieve some fantastic reward (or a new belt).. I must admit i have never looked that closely at people who beckon to me as i walk up the high street, but from now on i promise i'll glance at their heads and give it a chance.
perhaps i should be locked up in the basement too
--AlexC
Just because I dont agree with climate change doesnt make me a troll
Here's the article in it's full splendor then...
There are conventions in media we become perfectly used to, despite their having no place in reality. If we watch a movie, and someone is given CPR in the street, on the beach or dangling on a rope from a hot air balloon, we know they'll come back to life. Nevermind that CPR merely sustains things until proper medical equipment arrives - we know, and accept, that with a couple of compressions and a few puffs in the mouth, they'll be up and about and back to shooting zombies in a couple of minutes.
All romantic comedies will end in life-lasting true love, and all soap operas will have a 100% relationship failure rate. All cops will announce, "There's no time for back up!" when they arrive at the scene of a crime, before being asked to hand in their gun and badge to the furious captain (what with the governor being in town) on a weekly basis. All aliens are bipedal, and of all the languages spoken on Earth, choose English. Shopping bags always contain a long stick of French bread. And if you bump into someone of the opposite sex carrying a large stack of files, you will fall in love while picking them up. These are truths.
Conventions require time. Videogames have finally reached an age where such imaginary stalwarts are becoming firmly established, most especially within roleplaying games.
The distinguishing feature of such behaviors is we don't stop to question them until they're starkly pointed out. We accept them, unconsciously suspending our disbelief, only noticing when some smart-ass comes along and says, "Why is it when men disguise themselves as women, they suddenly gain super-strength?" So tell me, why is it in every RPG I've ever played, complete strangers are perfectly happy to walk up to me and entrust their very most intimate and important needs to my charge?
Arriving in a new town for the very first time, dressed in a confused mishmash of brown leggings, a priestly robe, chain mail jerkin, leather gloves, three magic rings, a large amulet necklace and a pointed wizard's hat, any number of distraught mothers will approach me and beg that I find their missing children/husbands/swords. Perhaps, I might be walking around naked but for the scrap of cloth protecting my decency and a fine pair of kobold-hide boots, but this won't prevent the local baker from requesting that I take a magic cake to his colleague in a neighbouring town, or the grumpy old codger from barking at me that I should clear his basement of vampiric rats.
What are they thinking? Do they ask just anyone who walks past, and I'm the only one daft enough to stop and listen? And when, exactly, was the last time someone accosted you in the street and asked you to complete a quest for them?
I decided to put this to the test.
The plan: To take to the streets, dressed as a wizard, with a quest for the good peoples of Bath, England. Would they really help out a stranger with a strange beard? Would they even stop to listen? Is there any truth to this convention we've otherwise entirely accepted?
First of all, I should immediately get this out of the way: No one, at any point, approached me to ask for a quest. Short of suspending a yellow exclamation mark above my head, I'm not sure what more I could have done to attract the attention of any passing adventurers braving the cold thoroughfare through the centre of the town. If anything, people did their very best to avoid me, refusing eye contact, moving far away from my pleading face. It was already concerning.
I should explain the scenario. I, the brave wizard, had transferred through a portal into this dimension, but could not leave the spot on which I stood. It was imperative to the survival of the universe that the magic spell I held (a rolled up scroll of paper, engagingly tied with a purple ribbon) be given to the girl in the red cloak and hood, waiting outside what you humans call "the shoe shop," 300 yards down the road. Upon completion of this vital task, a bag of gold coins would
Emerald Astrology
Guy in Kitchen: I'M GOING TO GET A SODA, ANYONE WANT ONE? HEY GRAHAM I'M NOT IN THE ROOM RIGHT?
Graham: What room?
Galstaff: I wanna cast... Magic Missile!
Guy in Kitchen: THE ROOM WHERE HE'S CASTING ALL THESE SPELLS FROM!
Graham: He hasn't cast anything yet!
Galstaff: I am though if you'd listen. I'm casting Magic Missile!
Graham: Why are you casting Magic Missile? There's nothing to attack here.
Galstaff: I... I'm attacking the darkness!
(LAUGHTER FROM ALL)
Graham: Fine, fine... you attack the darkness. There's an elf in front of you.
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well, if you do have to ask..
I, Abu Daba of Nigeria, Son Of the Lately Deceased General Daba, require your assistance in an enterprise of mutual benefits...