I’m sitting at 12m SP. Heavy Drones V is completing in a few more minutes as I type this; such a skill even PvPers who are a year or two older than me may not even possess yet. I’ve reached the stage where I can’t really use SP as an excuse for my losses, and it’s time to step it up. All the footage in this video has been collected prior to this point in my EVE life, ranging from fights where I’ve had 3m SP to 11m.
They aren’t glorious fights. Their caliber does not even begin to compare with fights you see in typical solo/small-gang PvP videos. But they’re something, and I can now clear my video folder with a clear conscience to make room for more recordings, knowing that I have some way to recall the shenanigans of my early days.
Enjoy! And if you feel like pondering after the video, read on to follow my thoughts on EVE for the day.
So as I uploaded the video I was thinking about EVE, about why EVE made me start blogging, about why I felt so compelled to release a video for EVE, but I have never anything close to this with any other game I play.
The reason, I believe, lies in what most people would call a flaw, or at least an issue that is necessary but cannot be avoided. Namely, the sheer amount of information that pummels the player at any one time, peaking perhaps when doing logistics work in fights, solo PvP, or engaging in furious market trading, considering industrial plans, leading corporations/alliances. No amount of reading lore, forum and blog posts, recounts, reviews, chronicles (official or otherwise), browsing EVElopedia and the countless other activities I engaged in to try immerse myself in New Eden BEFORE actually playing the game could have prepared me for this. No new player guide, nor the tutorial, specifically told me to look out for the waterfall of information that pummels my hunched shoulders as I try climb the learning cliff.
Now, I thought I had an inkling about what sandbox games are. Games like Skyrim, where you’re free to do almost anything you wish within the world. But games like these, eventually the pit turns out to be barely filled with sand, and you want to rampage and tear down the box, scattering precious content willy-nilly. EVE isn’t really a sandbox. It is marketed as one because it sounds better than what I have come to see EVE as: a desert where the player finds themselves in, standing next to a few planks of wood.
EVE doesn’t give you a box. It doesn’t even give you sand. The feeling of starting EVE after other ‘sandbox’ games, I feel, can be related to a student leaving the close, comforting environment of secondary school and entering the cold, hard, real world. Suddenly there is no one to tell you what to do. You must motivate yourself. Suddenly no one needs anything from you. You must have your own aspirations.
EVE is the ultimate sandbox in that it is an empty void, ironically fitting for the sci-fi genre. This is why I and other people feel so compelled to create blogs. Videos. Spreadsheets, applications, websites. Why sites dedicated to the retelling of EVE news are so successful. Why player-run events in-game and in real life can have such staggering turn outs, for a single game. This is us building our sandcastles in the emptiness; bringing life to the void in a way that is utterly disconnected to the in-game lore yet in its own kind of harmony.