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A Christmas Vanguard
style="font-style: italic;">Holiday Satire
style="font-style: italic;"> style="font-style: italic;">by Shayalyn
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We wish for the
launch of Vanguard
We wish for the launch of Vanguard
We wish for the launch of Vanguard
So spread the good cheer!
When's the
official launch date?
Oh, when's the official launch date?
Just tell us the friggin' launch date?
Please get it in gear!
The
thin, reedy voice floats on the December air. (It may not look like
December in California, but let's just put our imaginations to work,
shall we?) As we look to the doorstep, we see the urchin clutching his
skateboard to his side as he sings the old traditional MMOG Christmas
carol. He is dressed in tattered board shorts and Vans that are, like,
so last season. He stands outside what is clearly an office building,
his face a mask of sincerity and earnest good will.
At his desk,
Brad McQuaid taps his pen impatiently on his mouse pad as he stares,
brow furrowed, into his monitor. Try as he may, he can't seem to
concentrate.
"What is that infernal noise?" McQuaid bellows. "Butler, check it out!"
"Uh, sure Brad." Jeff Butler hurries away to the door of the office.
"It's just a boy singing carols," he announces upon his return. "Cute
kid, actually; you should see--"
"Bah!" cries McQuaid, "Humbug! Get rid of him."
"But it's just a caroler," Jeff says, scratching his head. "What's the
big deal?"
href="http://vanguard.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/article-illustrations/vanguard_carol1.jpg">![]()
src="http://vanguard.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/article-illustrations/vanguard_carol1.thumb.jpg"
align="left">"I
can't concentrate! Pelt him with pre-order boxes if you have to; just
get rid of the little punk." As the other man turns to leave, McQuaid
waves a finger in the air and calls out, "Make them empty pre-order
boxes! Those things are scarce."
Moments later, Jeff returns to
the office, a sad look on his face. "Poor guy," he mutters, "All he
wanted was a tidbit of information about Vanguard for Christmas, and
maybe one of those mythical pre-order boxes."
"Are there no fansites?" cries McQuaid.
"Well, of course there are fansites, but…"
"And the official forums; are they still in operation?"
"Indeed they are," says Jeff. "But many would prefer to hear some real
news than to speculate and talk amongst themselves."
"Well, let them speculate!" the CEO rants. "But tell them to leave me
alone."
~~~
Later
that night, McQuaid took his usual dinner of gruel (whatever gruel is)
in his usual cheerless tavern. With his stomach still growling and his
mood growing fouler by the moment, McQuaid made his way back to the
office building in which he spent his days working tirelessly to
develop Vanguard, the game that represented the culmination of his
Vision ™.
As he went to put his key in the lock he noticed something peculiar. He
saw the omnipresent Sigil logo--a big slab of stone
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carved with an "S"--plastered on the building, but there was something
odd about it. It wavered in the moonlight and took the face of a waif
with a backwards baseball cap holding a skateboard. McQuaid blinked
hard, and the logo returned to normal once again, yet
swore he heard a voice whispering on the December wind: "
style="font-style: italic;">Duuuuuuude!"
"Bah!" grumbled McQuaid to himself. "Humbug!"
Inside,
McQuaid shuffled to his desk where his PC was still humming away. He
grabbed hold of his mouse, flicked his wrist, and the screensaver
vanished as the computer sprang to life. There, right before McQuaid's
eyes, the skater dude's visage floated again. "
style="font-style: italic;">Duuuuuude!" it said
once more.
"It's
humbug still!" cried McQuaid as he opened his email client. A bit
shaken, but not stirred (and nonetheless determined), he began to read
through his mail.
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Dear
Brad,
Please,
sir…I know you're busy; but Vanguard is the game I've been
waiting a
couple years for, and I'm dyin' here. Could you please, please, pretty
please tell us when Vanguard's going to launch?
We're
tired of chewing
things over like dogs on a steak bone in the official forums and on the
fansites. Please, sir…make a Christmas miracle come true for
Vanguard
fans! Give us some news with real meat on it--a launch date! We're not
satisfied with this pre-order thing. I've been to 3 Best Buys, 5
GameStops and 2 EB Games and those boxes simply don't exist.
Sincerely,
I.B.
Fanboy
p.s.
- If you let me into beta I'll be the best beta tester ever. I've
tested every MMOG there is. I've won awards for beta testing. I can
spel and rite grate bug reports!
"Argh!"
McQuaid wailed as he deleted the email. "When will it ever cease? When
will they just leave me alone to make the game I'm trying to make? I
mean, I know our success depends on our fans, and I've always done my
best to give them lots of insight into the development process, but
some of this stuff is getting ridiculous!"
"Dude," said a voice from the darkness, "They're just eager, ya know?"
McQuaid
jumped in his seat, his heart suddenly pounding. The skater kid emerged
from the shadows and approached him slowly. McQuaid cowered. "Holy
…!
What the…? Security ain't what it used to be." He shook his
head in
disbelief.
"Geeze, don't have a cardiac, dude!" said the skater, "I'm not here to
gank you or anything."
"Then suppose you tell me why you're here," sputtered McQuaid.
"I'm
the Spirit of Vanguard Fans Present," said the skater, swinging his
head to flick a long lock of shaggy blond hair out of his eyes.
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src="http://vanguard.tentonhammer.com/files/gallery/albums/article-illustrations/vanguard_carol3.thumb.jpg"
align="left">"You
know," said McQuaid, "I never really thought of Vanguard fans as a
bunch of teenage skaters. I mean, I know they're a diverse lot, and
all, but…"
"Well," said the skater, "this is California, dude. And I'm the
best they could get for non-union scale."
McQuaid nodded, satisfied with the explanation. "Tell me, then, why do
you haunt me?"
"Simple, man," said the kid. "People are tired of waiting--they want
the game."
"But,
hey," cried McQuaid, suddenly indignant, "We just released our
pre-order package! And we're letting as many people into beta as fast
as we can. What more do they want?"
"Well, that pre-order thing
is kinda bogus, though beta is righteous," the skater
said. "But the
rest who aren't in beta, and that's most of 'em, are really starting to
lose it. I mean, have you taken a look at some of the stuff they invent
to argue about on the official forums? It's pathetic."
"It is a little sad, I suppose." McQuaid hung his head. "And they've
been such good fans."
"Shah!"
said the skater, "Totally! And while beta is awesome, many will come
knocking, but not all will enter. Some of 'em will never find a
pre-order box, either." He looked beseechingly at McQuaid with haunting
blue eyes. "May the game bless us, every one!"
"That's profound."
"Indeed."
The skater kicked the tail of his board, flipped it up, and caught it;
then he hoisted it under his arm. Just as quickly as he'd come, his
image began to waiver and fade. "Throw 'em a bone, McQuaid," he said.
"Throw 'em a bone…"
Seized with sudden joy, McQuaid grabbed the phone and began to dial. A
sleepy voice answered.
"Halloo there!" McQuaid called.
"Brad? What the…? Have you been hittin' the eggnog or
something?" said the voice on the other end of the line.
"Who is this? And what day is it, my good lad?"
"Brad, this is Nick. It's Christmas eve…and it's
nearly midnight. You guys don't pay me nearly enough to put up with
this sh-…"
"Christmas!"
cried McQuaid. "I haven't missed it. Nick, my man, be a pal and make
sure we get some great news to the fansites as soon as the holiday is
over, will you? Our fans deserve it."
"Uh, you got it. Now, could I please get back to my visions of sugar
plums?"
"A clever boy! A delightful boy! Yes, back to sleep for you! Merry
Christmas!"
Click.
McQuaid scampered outside. The air was crystal clear and bright. Why,
he would have sworn it was beginning to snow,
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align="right"> however unlikely.
"Yay!" he cried, raising his arms to the sky. "Yay! Merry Christmas!"
He
ran past the Sigil logo and gave it an affectionate pat. "Merry
Christmas, you beautiful old Sigil office building!" And as he ran on
past another building he cried out, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter!"
Suddenly,
McQuaid felt a thump on the back of the head. He turned to find the
skater dude standing behind him, recovering the hacky sack he'd just
pelted him with. "Dude, wrong story," said the kid. "That's
style="font-style: italic;">It's a Wonderful Life."
And with that he faded into the shadows again.
McQuaid
shrugged and smiled, then leaped into the air and clicked his heels
together. As he made his way to his car, and then onward toward home,
he could be heard singing:
Good tidings we
bring
style="font-style: italic;">To fangirls and boys
style="font-style: italic;">Good tidings for Vanguard
Christmas
style="font-style: italic;">And much pre-launch joy!
McQuaid
had no further discussions with spirits, skater dudes or otherwise. But
it was always said of him that he knew how to develop killer games
well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. And so, as Skater Dude
observed, may the game bless us, every one!
~~
style="font-style: italic;">I
have endeavored, in this Ghostly little story, to raise the Ghost of an
idea, which shall not put my readers (or Brad McQuaid!) out of humor
with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it
haunt their desktops pleasantly, and no one wish to hack it.
style="font-style: italic;">
style="font-style: italic;">Their faithful friend and
servant,
style="font-style: italic;">Shayalyn
December, 2006
This is all in good
fun, folks...so be of good cheer! And here's hoping Vanguard launches
style="font-style: italic;">when it's ready
next year! Come spread the holiday cheer in our forums. Join the fun
target="_blank"
href="http://forums.tentonhammer.com/showthread.php?t=1391">here!
To read the latest guides, news, and features you can visit our Vanguard: Saga of Heroes Game Page.
