Three
days ago gaming and the MMO genre lost one of its unsung titles. City of Heroes
shut down after eight and a half years of service due to still-unknown reasons.
Handed from Cryptic Studios to Paragon Studios, the game continued development
under publisher NCSoft. Deciding that despite making profits, NCsoft decided to
pull the plug on the game, firing Paragon Studios the day of the announcement
and disenfranchising tens of thousands of its playerbase.
We learned in August that come November 30th City of Heroes would be no more. Not many can understand what this game meant to those who played it, much like trying to explain the meaning a song to a person who had never heard it, but I’ll do my best.
We learned in August that come November 30th City of Heroes would be no more. Not many can understand what this game meant to those who played it, much like trying to explain the meaning a song to a person who had never heard it, but I’ll do my best.
I
played the game since its inception in 2004, two days after launch. My first
high-flying antics were with an Assault Rifle/Devices blaster named Violet Eye.
The game was rich and colorful, letting me create any character in my
imagination, practically without limit. The gameplay was closer to a classic
beat-‘em up style, inviting action and reflexes. It was stepping into an arcade
shared by over two hundred thousand players at launch.
Eventually
I moved to Virtue server which became my permanent home a few weeks later. It
was a game I came back to year after year, even when other MMO’s became stale,
it was a glue that held together my PC-gaming where I met a cherished community
that valued those who were a part of it. Everyone recognized and knew one
another because each vision and character was unique. For eight and a half
years I was honored to be a part of it
Together
we rocked the villains of Atlas Park, flying alongside signature heroes like
Statesman, Positron, Manticore, saving the world from evil. As villains we
stole and shocked the Rogue Isles with Lord Recluse, Ghost Widow and others.
City of Heroes was a wellspring for the creative. People crafted their own villains and storylines that thousands of others could experience through the Mission Architect system, wrote their own novels that they shared online and through Supergroup channels. Unimaginable amounts of ideas, and heartfelt stories came forth, from tales following the established canon, to tales that followed Greek mythology or non-sequitor humor.
Coupled with City of’s strong roleplaying community it became more than just the sum of what the developers crafted; it was our own, it belonged to the people. The world has lost a gateway to the imagination, a tray filled with crayons, markers, inked pens and paper, giving us the tools to create the heroes inside our hearts and minds with fluidity and ease.
Now
the playground is gone, and while there are other titles similar in substance,
they’re just not the same. They lack the creative options of Mission Architect,
the sense of bond and community.
I
try to draw the comparison between other titles. For those I know in the Street
Fighter community, imagine if Capcom was owned by an unseen corporate
publisher. One day that publisher decides that even though the series is profitable,
they’re going to cut access to the game. Imagine that tournaments can no longer
be held, that you can no longer go online or play any of the prequels. Ever. I,
for one, know that such a thing isn’t possible, but I know it would be one of
the worst things imaginable. That’s how I and many other City of Heroes players
feel.
We’ve
entered a time in gaming where we no longer own the games we purchase.
Publishers like NCSoft and EA give us borrowed time and yank out the carpet
underneath us. We buy games through publishers who have a certain set life or
expectation of their product that just aren't feasible; not every MMO will be
the next World of Warcraft or “WoW-Killer.” There will never be another WoW. It
doesn’t get high marks in originality (Everquest did everything it did first)
nor will it ever be replicated and it’s damaging to creative gaming to continue
to try.
I’ve
met countless people on City of Heroes. Two of my real life friends who I
recently visited in Colorado over the summer were made on that game. I’ve met
eight foot tall beasts with a heart of gold, Supermen who wear star-spangled
capes, Psychic seductive villainesses out for profit, cool-minded assassins in
suits and more. Inspired from everything from anime to comics and fiction in-between,
the gamut of characters is endless but they all have one thing in common;
they’re all played by flesh and blood human beings, with real hearts and
dreams. I know; I’ve met and spoken to a great deal of them personally over the
years.
For
my own personal story, I’ve dealt with schizophrenia in my family, loss of
loved ones, break-ups and more, but City of Heroes was always there for me to
hunker down and pretend to save the world. I’m torn up that I will no longer be
able to do that. I’m torn up how hard it is to express the thoughts, feelings
and experiences I’ve had and shared.
No
longer will I be able to scale the golden-brown pyramid tiles overlooking
clouded St. Martial in the Rogue Isles, or visit the blue-side bar in Pocket D,
taking in the sights as I virtually drink and chat about our characters’
troubles or the latest crisis that needs dealing with. No longer can I fly over
Silver Lake’s reflective sheen in Steel Canyon taking in the golden sunset off
of its waters, and no longer will I see the mighty statue overlooking Talos
Island with its protective, determined gaze.
Gone
are the battles against the alien Rikti, The Fifth Column and The Carnival of
Shadows. Gone are Praetoria and the battles to free its oppressed people from
Emperor Cole. My friends and countless other players fought together, played
together enjoying this rich, vibrant world that was both made for us by Paragon
Studios’ amazing development team and made by ourselves, the players. We didn’t
lose each other or our characters, but we lost our home and the connection
between each other. For my own part, I wrote countless backgrounds and stories,
but I’ve lost the canvas on which they were laid upon.
Many
will not understand how much all the work and the world meant to the
developers, the playerbase and myself. Some of my more fond and creative ideas
were made playing City of Heroes, and while the world may not exist in the real
world, it existed on the computers, hearts and minds of the people who shared
it.
I
hope someday that the City of Heroes may rise again. I know I’ll be doing my
part to help change that. Hopefully others will too. Until then I won’t hang up
my cape. I’m taking it with me to other realms and games and reality, where I
can find ways to try help others for real. Godspeed Paragon City; you may be
gone from our homes, but not from our hearts.
“Heroes
may die, but heroism never shall.” - Cyrus
‘Breakneck’ Thompson, City of Heroes