Granted, it’s big news for me, but you, dear reader,
probably don’t care much. I’ll still be
PvPing and writing about PvP, and if anything moving to WH space will allow me
to more easily confront a variety of situations… the next WH could take me
anywhere in the galaxy, and there could be a fight through every one. Fraps is ready, and as is my willingness to
write about both my successes and failures and the lessons that everyone can
take from them.
But, with each post on Target Caller, I try to give something
valuable for you to apply to your own Eve time.
With that in mind, I want to give the story behind the change. Maybe it’ll resonate with you, or maybe it’ll
provide some insight that will help with your recruitment and retention
efforts.
So let me spin my tale.
I first played Eve in 2009 – Talvorian is actually the
character I first created – but I barely knew anything about the game. I actually didn’t understand about capacitor
regeneration and was deeply concerned that I’d be stuck in space forever if I
went below 50% - and couldn’t make my way back.
I started mining initially.
I knew about the three kinds of each type of ore, but I only mined in
high-sec. I started to learn enough to
know 0.6 and 0.5 space was better than 1.0 space, but by then, I had ventured
far enough to know about missions. Missioning
was the only way I knew to earn good isk back then. When I gathered loot – literally flying to
each wreck and scooping it – I didn’t realize actual players set the buy prices
very low near mission hubs. I didn’t know
about Jita, Amarr, Rens, Hek, and Dodixie.
I knew nothing about low-sec space, and lost a few mission Ravens that
way.
I was under the impression that null-sec was a dangerous
world (it is) teeming with psychopaths (they are) where new players would
surely die (they would). I didn’t have
any idea that dying a lot is how you learn.
I joined a The Jagged Alliance with a corporation named
Borealis Mining Concern to dip my toe into null-sec. They
did a variety of tasks, and as I was coming from high-sec, that appealed to
me. At the time, I had about 500 million
isk to my name. They quickly left that
corp and joined Imperial Legion. That
was my first true taste of null-sec. My
net worth increased to about two billion isk.
But after a while, I wanted a more hardcore PvP experience,
and I found Razor back when they only had five systems in Pure Blind. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was
between their peaks, during one of their rebuilding stages. I was in awe of the concept of fleet
doctrines, trolling losses on killboards, and CTAs.
Over the next two years, Razor taught me what it meant to
PvP. To truly PvP. The list of campaigns began to mount. Branch.
Tenal. Tribute. Vale of the Silent. Delve.
Cobalt Edge. Fountain. Delve again.
Curse.
I can’t say enough kind words about Razor, and the goats who
flew with them. They acted professional
when they fought… no smack-talk in local, kill your targets and get out. And I have nothing but positive feelings for
them and everything they do.
But if they are so wonderful, why am I leaving?
Take a look at that list of campaigns. In two years, I noticed something… I was
always fighting the same people. We were
having the same fleet fights. Sure, the
ships changed, but the basic cast of characters was the same. This is, after all, a game of immortal
capsuleers, and one of the side effects is that null-sec is locked in the same
conflict time and again. It’s part of
the reason why there are still so many people for the CFC to fight… they just
start up new corporations and continue the fight.
Even during the best of times – going out in small gangs and
harassing your enemies – it’s still a bit of a grind. With the current deployment having lasted
several months, the war effort has consumed all our time, and that means fleet
doctrine fight after fleet doctrine fight.
If you’ve read this blog, you know that fleet doctrine
fights, while essential for sov-null, are something I tend to endure rather
than enjoy. You can only have so many
10% tidi fights before they start to wear on you. Over the months, the other types of fleets –
the pirate fleets (kitchen sink fleets), the wormhole expeditions, the pick-up
fleets – have all seemed to drop off.
Now, I did say, “seemed”.
As I look around the alliance, those fleets are still going on in the
USTZ, as much as or more than ever. But
I started to become deaf to them, even though they’re exactly the type of fleet
I want.
I was starting to get burned out by the sov-null grind. I realized I needed a change to keep myself
engaged with Eve. Oh, I still loved
talking and thinking about Eve, but I was increasingly disinterested in logging
in and actually playing. When I did, I
found myself ratting instead of PvPing.
That was the wake-up call. I had
lost my passion. I need to make a
change.
No matter what niche your corporation or alliance fulfills,
ultimately, the majority of your organization’s time will be dedicated to that
main raison d’etre. A pirate
organization will tend to pirate. A FW
corp will engage in FW. A mining corp
will do mining. Sure, you can do other
things, but ultimately, the primary purpose of your existence will take
precedence.
As much as anyone wants to claim, “We are a PvP
organization” isn’t a clear enough statement.
What kind of PvP group are you? Do
you do small-gang? Large fleets? Bomber fleets? Hot-dropping?
High-sec warfare? They’re all
quite different, and in the end, you will gravitate towards one primarily.
In Razor, we have many FCs who specialize in different types
of fleets, and during peace-time, they run a lot of those fleets. But when Razor is at war, a certain portion
of those fleets are crowded out by war operations. A certain portion of those war ops start
before I can play each night (I have a wife and two kids to put to bed first). A certain portion of the rest take more time
than I have available.
The net result is that, though the number of fleets remain
the same, my ability to enjoy them isn’t.
A person can endure that for a while – even years – but eventually,
burn-out sets in, and we all tend to long for something different. Different teaches us. Different helps us grow. But different is scary sometimes, too.
So, I tried to be rational.
What did I truly love about Eve?
The thrill of the unknown, not knowing what’s in the next system. Small gang- PvP, having to dictate range and
fight outnumbered in unfamiliar situations.
The joy of learning new things about the game, not just how to fly ships,
but mechanics. Fighting new enemies,
with unpredictable capabilities and flying styles.
And when I thought about it, if I’m going to make a change,
it makes sense to make a big one.
Success is not achieved through half measures. I’ve been living in null-sec for three years
– and only entering empire space to kill people during two of them. I really wanted – no, needed – to try a
different style of play
So I identified a few corporations that might be
interesting. I wanted a group with a
very heavy USTZ presence, so I researched them on eve-census. I wanted a PvP-oriented group that still ran
some PvE to fund it, so I checked eve-kill to see the times of day when they
saw action. I wanted a mature group that
didn’t have a lot of drama, so I asked probing questions of their recruiters. I wanted a group that had a well-established,
social culture, so I excluded particularly small groups.
Sky Fighters came highly recommended, and seemed to fit all
those criteria. This’ll be something
new, something wholly different from my time in Razor.
Yet, I had a lot of anxiety, dropping everything I knew to
try something different. Razor had been
nothing but good to me, and I had no complaints. Did I really want to give up my comfortable
patterns for the unknown, where nothing would be the same?
But, then I realized how things would progress if I didn’t
give it a try. I’d be less and less
engaged as the months went on, and would come to hate the things I still loved
about Razor. It wouldn’t be entirely
fair, as my complaint wasn’t with Razor itself – I’m convinced they’re an
excellent null-sec home for anyone, and I thoroughly enjoyed interacting with
everyone there – but rather, I was just tired.
The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in
ourselves.
Every so often, we all need to change things up, to keep
them fresh. It helps us rediscover the
things we’ve lost, while uncovering a few new surprises. That’s just human nature. Think carefully on the comfortable patterns
you’ve fallen into. Do they suit
you? Do they suit your membership? If not, you may want to look hard at whether
something needs to change. Perhaps
you’re a CEO and not being true to what you intended for your corporation. Or, perhaps – like me – you’re a player
finding yourself increasingly frustrated with Eve, and don’t realize that you
may just want to try something new. Look
into those reasons, and you may find yourself rediscovering joy in this game.
As for myself, I leave behind me great friends, a wonderful
experience, and a classy group of people I’ve truly enjoyed flying with. And before me lies – hopefully – wild fights,
new friends, and a little education. After
all, if I’m not learning, I’m not having fun.
And that wouldn’t be a very entertaining read, now would it?
OATHS WelcomesYou. May Bob Have Pity On Your Immortal Soul
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