EQ Chronicles: Bad Group Sense
With my holidays almost over, I thought I’d add one last Chronicle before my EQ play time returns to normal. One of the things you quickly discover when grouping in EQ is to recognise when a group you have joined is a waste of time, or worse. I call this “Bad Group Sense” and it can potentially save you many hours of lost experience through silly deaths. A recent trip to the Oasis provided a funny, and ridiculously perfect example.
[October 8]
Every game has them. In EQ they take several forms and usually only come into play when grouping. Luckily, it only takes a few experiences with them to begin to recognise the signs. After that, all you have to do is learn to trust your gut feeling.
During my normal Bardic journeyings I found myself back in the Oasis. The Oasis is a low to intermediate level hunting ground which also plays host to several much higher level mobs. Those mobs irregularly go wandering and lay waste to the newbies who die without knowing what hit them or run screaming to the zoneline amidst desperate typed shouts of “Sand Giant!” or “Spectre!” Sometimes unsympathetic high level players purposefully train the mobs to the dock area where everyone congregates just to enjoy the mayhem, but for the most part the crocodiles and other local fauna provide better than average XP for characters in the awkward teen levels.
Since I was there anyway I decided it was time for a little payback on those Sand Giants and, in particular, Spectres. If that water goblin who annihilated me at level 16 by sneaking out of the shallows and hitting me from behind showed up too, well all the better.
Coming from the Overthere where the great majority of players both knew how to group and played fairly, I was unprepared for the Oasis. My first group served as a sharp wake-up.
Everything was well except for a particular 30-something Paladin (ironic isn’t it) who exhibited all the signs of a Very Bad Player (VBP). First, he looted every fallen mob as soon as he could. This is known as “ninja looting” and meant he got the lion’s share of any money and gear that was dropped. He also, of course, had to be asked to turn on his money splitting option, which automatically shared any money gained from corpses amongst group members. As the spectres dropped very heavy (but very valuable) Sythes, he also kept disappearing to a nearby merchant to sell without telling anyone what he was doing.
Ka-ching, Ka-ching, coins were disposited in my inventory as the Paladin indescriminately looted everything he could, often while others were still fighting.
- Paladin, let others loot please.
- Heh, okay
- Ka-ching
- Paladin, share… the… looting.
- Ka-ching
Thankfully the group leader stepped in to regulate loot sharing, even denying the Paladin any privileges until things had evened out.
Second, he filled group chat with meaningless, persistent questions and self-aggrandizing pronouncements. He also pestered spell casters for buffs he had already received. Third he fought selfishly, trying to get the biggest and/or final hit in so he could type an inane “yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhh! 100 hitpoint critical!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”. Along with this he ignored the group leaders’ instructions for how fight tactics should be approached, thereby endangering the rest of the group if things went wrong as well as getting hit more often. As a result he consumed a good deal of the healer’s mana in unnecessary healings. This is known as being a “mana sponge”.
Fourth, he consistently demanded I play manasong when I was already playing it. This, for the uninitiated, is a cardinal sin. You never tell a mid or high level Bard to play manasong as by level 30 they are royally sick of being asked to play it - it does not benefit them in any way as they don’t use mana, but increases the mana regeneration rate of casters who understandably love it. It is, however, a good Bard’s pleasure to play manasong as a group service, but by the 30’s he/she already knows when to play it and unless there is a good reason it will be up before it can be asked for. To be abruptly told to play it adds insult to injury. A polite request is acceptable, but only once.
Rude, selfish, and ignorant players (who would know better by level 30 if they weren’t rude and selfish) don’t realize manasong does not create a corresponding screen icon to notify of its existence as other spells do. Instead it throws a slow stream of “Your mind clears.” in the text box. As a result they think it isn’t being played. Of course, our Paladin had no idea.
Your mind clears.
Your mind clears.
play manasong
Your mind clears.
It seems a small transgression, but on top of everything else, it was enough. The Paladin was not only a VBP, he was possibly the most extreme VBP I had yet experienced. However, he was but gentle preparation for what I was to experience with my very next Oasis group. And personally, I don’t think this will ever be topped.
A cleric I knew from previous groups turned up in the zone and after the first group disbanded we decided to form another Spectre group. A Warrior was sending zone-wide shouts that he and two others were interested in grouping to take out Spectres, so we ran to where they were and joined up.
play heal
These were the Warrior’s first words to me. No “Hello”, no “Welcome to the group”. No punctuation. This was my first warning, and I was so aware of VBPs after the Paladin I briefly considered making my excuses and disbanding immediately. If it hadn’t meant letting down my Cleric friend I would have. The warrior had lost a lot of health from a previous battle obviously, and that in retrospect was my second warning. But I bit back any recriminations and after a polite reminder to ask, not demand, I started up my heal song.
The fighter’s two friends - an enchanter and a small halfling warrior - were chatting aimlessly while we were trying to organise a plan of attack. Warning three. But the leader having been SOWed and levitated, ran off over the water to the distant island to pull a Spectre for us. It arrived and we dispatched it without trouble.
Ka-ching. The Halfling looted immediately.
Me: We’re sharing looting right?
Warrior: sure, i don’t need any anyway
Halfling: i thought i got it all (joke)
Not funny, and again no punctuation.
A second Spectre arrived and died.
Ka-ching. The Halfing again.
It turned out the Halfling was level eight and the Warrior level 51. Now a level eight character fighting Spectres is less than useless. It will get no experience, being too low in comparison to the rest of the party members, it can’t hit them effectively as they are too high a level, and it will actually create problems for the group by draining mana for constant heals and quite probably resurrections. The Warrior had decided to let the Halfling - a friend of his - be part of the group and take all the loot, and hadn’t informed the rest of us.
can we work on getting me some armor, the Halfling added.
After some discussion we decided to “alpha loot” which meant looting privileges circled alphabetically according to players’ names. It is standard procedure and one that is normally followed as a matter of course. My name began with ‘A’, and so I would be first.
Me: Yep, Alpha is good.
Halfling: yeah, for you it is
A level eight ninja looter who had already rudely looted two valuable corpses and who could contribute nothing to the party but was being allowed to remain as an act of good will by the rest of us was berating me because I would be the first to legitimately loot a corpse. My cursor hovered over the “Disband” button as my Bad Group Sense hollered at me. I had just gained level 35, a notorious “hell level” which required more than twice the usual experience points to get through. I could not afford the time and experience waste of dying. And Bards always died first when bad groups went pear shaped, as they always inevitably did. However, I didn’t want to let the Cleric down.
Warrior: go to island
It seemed not only was punctuation too difficult but now, with his friends breathlessly charging toward glorious battle, grammer as well. Off they went to the island in the water where all the Spectres spawned without waiting for any feedback from the rest of the group. I thought this was a very bad idea, as there was nowhere to run if things went wrong, and there were more than several Spectres in close proximity to help things go wrong if anyone - a witless Halfling for instance - went too close. Our level 51 Warrior however was unconcerned. Spectres were all green to him (which meant he was far above them in level) and noone is going to die.
So, they got to the island before I finished typing my reply. The Halfling immediately died. He was hit so hard his body fell off the island and into the water. The Warrior, who dispatched the welcoming party of Spectres and only had 20 percent of his health remaining, thought it was hilarious. I was musing it was instant Karma. The Cleric and I were still making our way to the island. When we arrived the Halfling had respawned a few zones away and was trying to organise the Cleric to resurrect him to save him the walk back. The Warrior was intent on showing us where the Halfling’s body had fallen, and how funny it was.
After a few minutes things settled down, but I knew it was only a matter of time and prepared my running song. While the Cleric rested to get back mana to resurrect the Halfling, the Warrior pulled two more Spectres and we killed them both.
Ka-ching, Ka-ching. The Warrior looted the corpses.
That was the final sign. I disbanded quietly and after sending a private messge to the Cleric apologizing and explaining, I left as quickly as I could before the inevitable catastrophe occurred. She tried to lure me back, but I was leaving as fast as I could.
Only minutes later I was at the docks waiting for the Barge to the Overthere and arguing internally with myself that perhaps I had overreacted, when I received a message from the Cleric.
They all died. They pulled without checking how much mana I had left. I’m alive because I ran like hell.
I told you was all I could manage between disbelief and laughter.
I went back to help with corpse retrieval, but the Warrior was arguing vainly with a GM (official ingame administrator) trying to get a full experience resurrection, claiming the game had bugged to cause his death. I couldn’t get any sense out of him, so I left, still chuckling. I chuckled for the rest of the afternoon, as much through thankfulness as the comedy and wonderful justice of the drama. If not for listening to my Bad Group Sense, one of those corpses would have been mine.
Needless to say, I am no longer grouping in the Oasis.
posted by monty · at 7:04 am · filed under EQ Chronicles