So, I play World of Warcraft. I recently decided to make a bit of in-game cash. The easiest time to make money, or lose it, is in a time of great upheaval. In this way I timed my entry to the market well with the shattering patch and the release of Cataclysm starting off some crazy, hazy weeks of auction fun and games.
For a period I became a changed man. I got my full 'team' of profession monkeys to level 80 in time for the changes. I researched and read tidbits of information here and there online. I put some principles into practice.
Foolishly, I got serious about in-game gold.
The goblin in me took over.
First he got the money, then he got the power, then he lost his sensibilities. My bank alt character swaggered like Montana himself.
He locked down guild bank permissions (in a friends only guild - they lol'ed). He flipped some bargains. He dressed above his level (24) and cracked trade chat one liners above his station.
He was a mastermind! Or so he thought.
Do you remember that scene in The Usual Suspects where Agent Kujan realises he's been fed the lines he wanted to hear just so he'd part with something he didn't even know was hugely important?
Bank alt does, and that's how he thought he made people feel after he pulled some of his 'smooth moves'.
When he told them he only had 7k gold for that BoE Epic they wanted to sell, he held his hands steady and his gaze open and trustworthy. Successful, he walked with a limp to the auction house and that limp simply *vanished* as he listed the BoE right back up there for 17k (and sold it).
His actions reeked of hubris. It wasn't long before he wascocky. He could turn anything purple into mountains of gold. He took a sensibly raised 60k and halved it. As he strutted his way to the Auctioneer, bags bustling with purple shirts, pantaloons and belt-thingys, the market turned.
Karma, like a huge whale rolling through the oceans, pulled him into it's wake. The karma-whale swallows purples like they were motes of air (in a market overrun with motes of air) in a shaft of sunlight.
The rest of my humble troupe of digital avatars have yet to recover from the bank alt's actions but they remember and together we hold strong against his will. Against his overbearing, maniacal vision of a future where he, and he only, sells items in the AH. To himself. Making endless profit.
Together we remember to spend money on things, equip the occasional BoE with a carefree laugh, chase puppies and never make 'the bottom line' the end goal of our gaming evening.
The greatest trick my bank alt ever pulled, was convincing the world that fun doesn't exist... and like that *poof* he's gone.
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