Azeroth is a very vast and beautiful world. Many people do not understand what fun the game is, and they denounce the teenagers who love the game, and even lock them up in the inhumane electric shock "treatment center". But when the game brings the world to life, you're like having a second life here, talking to countless characters coming and going, fighting side by side, discussing tactics fiercely, sending a buff spell to a dying stranger, sending away friends whose names never light up again on their friends list... How much emotion is poured into that string of data living in the electronic world, the joys and sorrows in this world are no different from reality, I am the druid who roars into a big bear to block all the harm for his teammates, the priest who sings hymns behind his friends, the warrior monk who flexibly shuttles through the battlefield to save his teammates, the great hero of Azeroth's vast world, and the ordinary person who soaks in the study room in the school and punches in the morning and evening peaks to squeeze the bus.
Countless stories play out in reality, and Azeroth has never been silent. There are guilds in the game, presumably a "home" established by peers who know each other in various ways, and when I first started playing the game, I was picked up by the vice president into the guild and met a small group of players. We had a good relationship, teamed up the mountain and the sea dry rack fishing and flower picking chat, almost all the gameplay of this game was taught to me by them.
One of them is called a parrot. He was the only pvp player in the guild besides me,"another player than an in-game monster), teaching me game skills, taking me to the battlefield, writing me strategy, taking me to brush up on beautiful illusions, and jokingly calling him Master.
When I was in college, there was a weekend when the guild organized everyone to fight on the battlefield, and parrots, as the most accomplished players in PvP, were naturally the conductors. And I, as the eldest disciple under his seat, was named the deputy commander of the scene, happily changed a set of skills and attributes dedicated to the battlefield, and stood by on the voice chat channel, listening to them joking and chatting as usual. When the parrot entered the group, he took me to play in the main city of the enemy camp, he turned into a golden dragon to ride me, we flew high above the city, watching the enemy players and NPCs on the soles of our feet busy, no one idle to look up at us. The parrot asked me to look up and tell me that there were two moons in Azeroth, the big one called Lady White and the little one called Blue Child. I adjusted my perspective for a long time and took several screenshots of the two of us and the two moons.
At that time, PVP was very prosperous, and after the group of good people, ten people soon entered the battlefield, and the parrot cleared his throat in the voice channel and said: "Good don't talk, listen to my assignment." ”
Hunters open flags on the farm to guard the house, Death Knights and Warrior Monks go to the blacksmith shop, the mage takes everyone left to the lumber yard, to the point to report the number of enemies, if the blacksmith shop is crowded, the mage gives the others a "floating spell" and quickly supports. This is the opening tactic that I have already mastered, chewing potato chips and typing "1" in the team channel to indicate that I know.
The start went very smoothly, we won the three points needed to win with a destructive momentum, the other side came a few, we played a few, and each encounter was won by us with zero casualties. The parrot said, "If you don't want to play, stay at the support point and go to their house to play." ”
This is the last thing the parrot said to us.
His voice account suddenly jumped out of the channel, the game character offline, we wondered for a while, guessing that he probably had a problem with the network at home, everyone won the victory by playing less and more with the early advantage, but the parrot was still not online after the end. He didn't come the next day, he didn't go on the line again that week, he didn't go that year.
After a month, we had a bad feeling in our hearts, but no one said it, and everyone tacitly stopped mentioning it, like the treasure carefully guarded by the dragon in the game, and his name was quietly hidden in the heart. Occasionally, when a new person asks us how we have never seen the vice president on the line, we giggle and say, "The vice president is going home and marrying his daughter-in-law and ignoring us." ”
Later, the president went to the parrot's hometown on a business trip, and the next day he told us that the parrot's house caught fire that day, first burned the line at the door, and he was trapped in a high-rise apartment and could not escape.
The parrot's name was suddenly mentioned, with the smell of ash in the corner of the memory, wrapped in the cruel blood of the facts, and we were suddenly rudely pulled out of the fantasy that "he just suddenly stopped playing games". The president did not leave us any leeway, and the initial escape phase of human grief was forced to end.
Before he could react, DK suddenly typed a long paragraph: I played the game stupidly and couldn't smell the smell of wire burning?!
I covered my computer and buried myself in my pillow, half of my mind was full of parrots taking me over Stormwind city for the last time to see the alliance ants, and the other half of me began to suddenly and compulsively recite the rules of the book: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance... Where have I come?
I hadn't been online for a long time, silently digested all the stages of grief, and finally half accepted the fact that the letter that had been sent to the parrot in the mailbox had long been returned by the system, and I no longer resended it in vain. Then someone made a video commemorating the 512 disconnected Warcraft players, I cried and couldn't speak, and finally found a number stealing organization and paid people to get the parrot number for me.
His necromancer remained forever in the battle that had long since ended. The system read the battle information and kicked him to the place before entering the battlefield: I was no longer on his back, the golden dragon was alone in the sky over Stormwind City, the white lady and the blue child occupied the two corners of the sky, and the players and NPCs at his feet were still busy.
All the busy and unprepared friends of the guild, AFK's still playing friends, brushed up on the line that day, I controlled the parrot's necromancer, and everyone was silent without using teleportation spells, honestly on the mount, and flew back to the birthplace of the undead race. In the plot of the undead, they are monsters who have just been awakened from the grave, and their home is this empty tomb, which is staggered into the city of other living people as the adventure progresses. The other undead probably would never have imagined that the necromancer who had been sent away here many years ago would be buried here for the second time. We didn't talk much, let the parrot character lie in the grave of birth and then went offline, and the account never lit up again.
Only when the Warcraft movie was released that year, when everyone was chatting at the end of the premiere, the president posted two of his own movie tickets: "Help him buy one", only to find that many people also bought a movie ticket for the parrot. I bought it too, and the seat was empty in the bustling theater, silent, like the string of data that would always sleep in the grave of the newborn, just carrying our wishful thinking.
Parrot once shared with us an Easter egg from World of Warcraft, where a player died of illness and Blizzard left his Night Elf Hunter in Azeroth forever, and her poem was adapted from Blizzard's Into a Thousand Winds:
Don't cry in front of my tombstone, I'm not there, I don't have a long sleep.
I was the bitter wind that swept through the snowy fields of Northend.
I am the gentle spring rain that moisturizes the wheat fields of the western wilderness.
I am the quiet dawn that fills the woods of the Valley of Thorns.
I was the sound of majestic drums, flying over the clouds of Nagran.
I am the warm stars that dot the night of Danasus.
I am a singing bird that remains in the beautiful world.
Don't cry in front of my tombstone, I'm not there, I never slept.
With the exception of The Human And Azeroth, he entered the Last World earlier than we do. Take a good adventure there, and one day we'll be back again.
May Mother Earth protect you.