When Mats Steen died from a muscle-wasting disorder, his parents believed that his life had been a tragically lonely one — until hundreds of emails from strangers arrived. It turns out that he’d found friendship and even romance in a gaming community
Their son had lived by another name. To his family he had simply been Mats. But within World of Warcraft he had existed for years as a charismatic adventurer named “Ibelin”, a strapping swashbuckler with auburn hair tied back in a ponytail and a butch goatee beard. And it was as this digital alter ego that Mats had thrived in a way his family had never appreciated. They had misunderstood what World of Warcraft really was. It had seemed to them like a frenetic action game of monster-bashing and point-scoring. To Mats and the many people he played with – the people now emailing Robert and Trude – it was something far more profound: an immersive world built on social interactions, friendships and shared storytelling. Robert smiles. “This window started to open up to us that let us see he had another life besides his physical life. And that it had been so rich, so big and so full of contentment.”
Having a great online gaming community can be a wonderful thing. I’ve returned over and over again to ALFA, a Neverwinter Nights (1, now Enhanced Edition, not NWN2) persistent world that’s over two decades old now, and me and a few lifers are still playing and DMing even today with each other.
Online friends are real friends.
I wish I was still connected with those I played NWN with. Bastions of War, an arena PvP server, let to same great squad play - and from there we expanded to other servers under the moniker “Cult of Discord” or CoD.
Why all the detail? Wishful thinking that when one of the other post members decides to search for Cult of Discord (as I occasionally do) that they turn up a result.