I have a lot of very fond memories of playing WoW but if I had to decide which one was the best I would say that it was the day when my female Belf-pally Sinthara died. Not because she died, but because of the way she died. But I am getting ahead of myself a little. Let’s start at the beginning, ok?
Sinthara was Kheldaris’s sister, very holie-than-thou, haughty, condescending. I think Khel was the only character on the whole server who actually kinda liked her — because I also played Khel which meant that the two never really had a chance to clash. He always defended her against other player’s rants, while she wouldn’t tire to rant about what a disgrace her little brother was in her eyes. Charming, right? In short, with her I made one of the cardinal sins of roleplaying: I created a character that everyone hated. She was stuck, and playing her wasn’t a lot of fun. I was ready to just go and delete her when I found a post on the official realm forums that a group of troll players were looking for a victim. I literally pounced on that opportunity because it was a way to explain her sudden disappearance from the server.
I contacted the GM of the troll-guild and said that I had a disposable belf-pally and they were pretty happy. The evening prior to the event we “met” through partychat and hammered out the rules for it. I made clear that I wouldn’t tolerate any form of sexual violence (which they weren’t planning to inflict anyway), and apart from that they could go wild. The communication prior and during the event gave me a really good feeling about playing out something that was ripe with pitfalls. The whole group was corteous, and kept up a steady stream of communication during the grisly event: the hunt, and capture. The torture, interrogation and final beheading. It was a gloriously bloody mess, one of the most electrifiying rp-sessions I ever had.
*raises a glass of blood-red wine and salutes the most vicious troll guild Die Aldor ever had*
I really can’t stress enough how important the communication before and throughout the event was. It reassured me that there weren’t things going to happen which would make me uncomfortable. It helped my co-players to gauge how far they could go with the violence, and how vividly they could describe what happened. It was also fun, because they were a pretty cool gang with a very dry sense of humour. Loosing these guys was one of the nails in the coffin of my former main-rp-server. It was also important because I could reassure them that the death of my character was okay with me (they had had some trouble with other players who had gotten cold feet at the last moment).