by Ashley Shankle

Created on: January 25, 2009

World of Warcraft has been like a double-edged sword in my hands since I first got it shortly after its initial release. Like most, I came to love it soon after I began playing, and I have loved it ever since. My loving it is the problem, though: I quit playing three and a half years ago.

I had only played one MMORPG before World of Warcraft, and that was the Maple Story beta. Maple Story was a good diversion from the real world, but it was extremely repetitive and gave no real incentive to play at the time. Soon after my three-week love affair with Maple Story ended, my friend offered to buy me a copy of World of Warcraft.

He essentially bought the game for me so I could join his guild. I've forgotten the server, but I clearly remember that it was a Player Versus Enemy (PVE) server and that we were alliance. Like nearly everyone who just starts out, I made a night elf. A night elf druid. I was a clueless, helpless night elf druid in a guild full of level 30s who thought they were hot stuff. The guild didn't help me out or give me any advice and I had quickly grown tired of the game. Plus I had wandered into Ashenvale at level 16 and wasn't really sure of what to do.

I decided to try out the horde on another PVE server, so I made a tauren shaman. I was enjoying myself quite a bit on the horde side and finally got to level 25. The people on the horde side were pretty amusing and, at the time, relatively helpful, but something seemed amiss. Running around, gathering quests, and knocking monsters (mobs) around was not enough for me. I wanted blood.

At this point I was, understandably enough, truly hooked on WoW. I was having a lot of fun and the world seemed so huge and endless, like anything could happen. And I wanted anything to happen. I wanted anything to happen so badly I made another tauren shaman on a Player Versus Player (PVP) server called Thunderlord. Two hours in, as I was running to Thunderbluff, anything did happen. I clicked on a level ? night elf, attacked him on accident, and was suddenly violently torn to tiny bits of beef jerky and spit upon. I will never forget that blue-green demon.

The Honor System got implemented when my shaman hit level 9 and hell on earth was the Crossroads at that time. Wave after wave of alliance raids on that tiny little town in The Barrens, and I was racking up Honor Points (HPs) like my life had depended on it. Just shooting one lightning ball at a guy was enough to get you a few points, even if a high level was the one

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