I started playing ESO a couple of years ago. Bought the game for my wife, ended up playing myself. I remember as a new toon, watching all the max level players (the cp cap was 630 or 660 or something back then) run through dungeons and delves, pulling a trail of enemies behind them, obliterating the boss before I could catch up — just being dicks. I swore to myself that I would never be that guy, that when I hit level cap, I'd slow down, help people, not adopt the sense of entitlement that seemed to come with hitting cap.
Well, then I hit cap. I got a master crafter built up, and when I went to level an alt I had the full weight of complete set gear for every 10 levels, all the food and potions and gold I could want, and a whole vault of other trinkets and baubles (thousands of soul gems and lock picks, for instance; a personal banker and merchant, the works). Starting over wasn't a matter of surviving, it was a matter of grinding. Level 50 wasn't a dream, it was a question of time.
I took that account to cp900, then gave it back to my wife and bought my own account (which just broke cp400 recently). Still, though, I had my old account right there. The first time I logged into my new toon on my new account, I had hundreds of thousands of gold sent to me, along with food, gear, soul gems, everything. If I needed something, I bought it. If I could make it, the wife made it for me and sent it along. She even made me a slew of low level research gear to get my new crafter going. Once again, even on the new account, lvl 50 — even max cp — was just a function of time.
Somewhere in the middle there, I turned into the very thing I hated. I breezily ignored dungeon and delve enemies, letting them chase along behind me as I rapid maneuvered and mutagened my way to first the skyshard, and then the boss, in whatever dungeon of delve I was clearing. I blasted down bosses before anybody else I passed could catch up, then teleported out to go somewhere else and do it all again. I had gold to blow, jumping around the map like I was, and I was in no danger of being killed by anything but the hardest world bosses.
I had become the thing I hated. I had become the dick max cp guy.
Then this morning, when the PC NA server took a giant shart, I logged into the EU server — and boys and girls, I got a wake up call. My wife, who has no EU toons and was still asleep in bed at the time anyway, couldn't help me. All the shit I had on the NA server couldn't help me. I had no gold, no food, no cps, no crafter. I had no friends, no guilds, nothing. I was a true newbie once more, my only advantages being my knowledge of and skill in playing the game. Even with that, I was struggling to even find a staff so my magplar could freaking regen magicka when I ran out. I tried to cobble together War Maiden's (I always start in Vvardenfell, since it was the newest release when I began years ago and I'm very familiar with it), but only found one piece in the hour or so I played. I wasn't dying, necessarily, but I wasn't breezily and carelessly tiptoeing through the tulips, either.
It was a wake up call. A big one. I realized that as a high level player, I have a responsibility to the newer guys and girls beneath me. To help, to be patient, to answer questions and even tag along on a difficult quest or dungeon if I have the time. To craft the occasional piece of gear.
Not to be a dick.
Sorry for the rambling and moralizing. I just realized this morning, having nothing, that I was taking my situation for granted when it came to being a positive part of the ESO community.
My bad, guys. I'm no longer that high level twatwaffle that I once loathed.
Source: Original link
© Post "A reminder to be kind…" for game The Elder Scrolls.