I must have been 16 or 17 years old. It might sound strange, but I can’t quite remember, because I’ve repressed and tucked away many of my childhood and teenage years.
Back then, I created a Night Elf Warrior. How cool it was!
My first time in the Deadmines, with those small, cheeky parrots.
That gigantic staircase in Zul’Farrak, with what felt like an endless swarm of enemies as we triggered the event, and I, as the tank, had to protect my group.
My first Nightsaber – what a majestic mount. I patrolled through Darnassus for days. Time flew by, and before long, my guild asked if I would join them. I had proven myself worthy to face the Firelord, who guarded incredible treasures.
I was a boy who, aside from school and the hobbies forced upon me by my parents – hobbies I would one day turn into a career – knew little else. Today, I like to call it being a “career child.”
A life of work and diligence, even in my childhood and teenage years, that was rigidly laid out for me. Only at night, in the few hours before bed, could I catch up on things, explore the world, and connect with others. But even that wasn’t always allowed. If I deviated from the path my parents set, it meant harsh punishments, often physical beatings from my father. But I could lay down those burdens in Azeroth, whenever I had the chance. There, my wounds healed, and as a Night Elf Warrior, I faced Azeroth’s dangers, holding my shield up to protect my companions.
I still have two or three great memories vividly in mind.
In our guild, there was a family that played together. I had never experienced anything like it before. The father played a cool Gnome Mage, the mother a small Gnome Warlock, and the daughter a Hunter.
But the grandma was my personal highlight. She wasn’t as fast with the keys as the rest of the guild, but she was allowed to come along on every dungeon and raid. We died often, because (I’m honestly grinning as I write this) she insisted on playing a Fury Warrior.
We often suggested she play something other than a melee class, because she frequently died, missed enemy attacks, and loved standing in the fire. But she was determined. She once said: “While my mobility in real life keeps decreasing, I want to be young and fierce in this world. And listen, young man – this totally rocks!”
That was a great time for me, even though my problems grew more serious and intense with age. My parents had plans for me.
Two of my greatest and most beautiful memories are when I received my second binding and finally had everything I needed: Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker.
I’ll be honest, I was overwhelmed. It took a lot of time, because my opportunities to immerse myself in that world were increasingly limited. The router was turned off at night if I hadn’t been diligent enough with my “hobbies.”
But I did it. That evening, we rode out from Stormwind together, with maybe 40, 60, or even 80 people, with the goal of conquering the Horde cities.
Well, Undercity probably gave us the most trouble, thanks to those elevators. Believe me, as an Alliance player, there were many things you wanted in that city – but dying and losing the raid was not one of them. It was fatal!
Just before the grand finale, my father pulled the plug, and I had to go to bed.
I don’t know – I’m a grown man now, and I see things differently, but back then, it really bothered me. Talking back wasn’t allowed, or else I’d face physical punishment, as usual.
I was almost 20 years old when I had the chance to escape, thanks to a girlfriend I met during a forced apprenticeship. She was wonderful, saw my situation, and gave me the opportunity to leave my childhood and youth behind. It took me a long time to realize how deeply those experiences had scarred me, but I don’t want to talk about that.
With a quick move, in the middle of the night – my personal “cloak-and-dagger operation” – I left. But I wasn’t allowed to take my PC with me. One box of clothes – that was all I could bring.
Later, in 2016, I logged in through a borrowed computer to claim the limited transmog set from my movie ticket for Warcraft: The Beginning. But I couldn’t truly return to Azeroth at the time because I was still healing.
It’s been at least 12 years now, maybe even more. A few days ago, I decided to log back into my old account after getting a new PC in my mid-30s. My current partner knows my story and simply said: “Do what makes you happy and feels right. We only get one life.”
All my characters are still there. I noticed I had changed my Night Elf Warrior to a different race – but I don’t remember doing that.
Tonight, I want to find my way back.
But so much has happened. When I logged in, hundreds of messages flashed before me. Tons of achievements from days gone by. I would love to find new players, a new community. In my old guild, every player has been offline for over 8 or 9 years. Seeing some of those names again stung, as I have amazing memories and adventures tied to them. I hope they’re all living happy, healthy lives.
I’m not expecting anything from this, but I would love to hear from someone.
Kaj
And, yes, being young and fierce ingame is a huge thing 