Everyone has to start somewhere, a truth that we’re all pretty much aware of, and yet one we find easy to forget, because for many of us, it happened such a long time ago; in my own case something like six years ago now. I mention this not to brag, if anything, the reverse: MMOs are what I’ve always done, and I can barely imagine not knowing instinctively how to function in a virtual world not my own. While certainly new individual games may vary, they rarely vary by that much, and these long-practiced and rather pointless life skills are eminently transferable.

So when I began playing World of Warcraft around a month ago, it was little more than the matter of days before I was, if not ‘uber’, then certainly comfortably functional, and getting on with life on Azeroth. In short, you’re only a newbie once – every time after that is merely a matter of ‘finding your feet’.

We throw the term about as if it were the most deadly epithet imaginable; “n00b!” In one simple pseudo-word, we imply that the target knows nothing about anything, or at least in a context where one’s ability to play the game skilfully is all that registers, anything that matters, and often we apply it to people who are obviously not new, merely stupid, or ignorant or abusive. And yet, so far into my pilgrimage, I have come to envy real, genuine noobs. The games may vary, but I’ll never be able to see them with fresh eyes again.

One such was The Neophyte. I encountered The Neophyte in the snowy Dwarf and Gnome starter land, while starting again on my second, and now main, character, the Priest. I was eager to try out my usefulness to others; as detailed previously, it was the sole reason I started again, and quickly I’ve gotten into the habit of leaping at any and all group requests, and this was the first such occasion.

A shout went out for help with a cave full of Trolls, by a Mage. I responded, and mentioned that we might want a Tank to help us too; a Fighter. When I arrived, I saw the Mage, who I immediately decided was as a long-time min-maxing veteran, most likely on their fourth character, slumming it between scheduled end-game raiding with a hobby project. With her was The Neophyte, a rather bewlidered Fighter that the Mage had just dragged out of the zone '/who' list to serve her purpose. The Neophyte seemed a bit different; more unsure, more awkward and seemed not to be picking up on any of the, quite frankly ridiculous, running patois going on between myself and the Mage, a familiar running gibberish of three-letter acronyms and rather baffling terminology. “OOM”, “pull”, “add”, “IF”, “EQ2”, “BFD”, you know the stuff; a ravaged shorthand designed to optimise text-based communication in fast-moving fights. (It may surprise some of you that someone as pretentiously wordy as myself reverts to this nonsense in-game, but you have to – it’s the language used, and with good reason.)

We cleared the cave out, got the widget the Mage’s quest required, and then the Mage promptly left, us being of no further use to her, but I decided to stay with The Neophyte for a bit – try this whole Meeting New People thing out.

Over the next few hours, we chatted while beating the snot out of fairly easy solo-mobs, and it wasn’t until I found myself explaining the concept of ‘Threat’, (or ‘Hate’ or ‘Agro’, depending on game), and how it was important to a tank-based class in a group setting, (and then what a tank-based class was), that I realised that here was something precious – a real Newbie. They had a guild-tag, which threw me a bit initially, but then I realised with so many guilds spam-inviting total strangers just to bulk the count, it wasn’t that surprising.

The Neophyte had gotten into the game via their significant other, which is probably quite a common way. They were sharing a PC, but The Neophyte hoped to have their own soon, as the Other tended to kick them off quite often so they could have a go. The family that plays together, stays together, I thought darkly. I’ve often entertained the notion of meeting my dream woman in an online game, but these days I’m a little wiser and a lot more cynical, and recognise that any woman as absorbed as I am with online gaming, will most likely have as little time for me as I would for her. That is discounting the more likely ‘Crying Game’ scenario of course. But for The Neophyte, the entire online experience is currently a wondrous fresh and exciting fairy-tale. They’ll be a hero! They’ll save the day! They have no idea what the word ‘grind’ means in this context! It's healing to watch...

In a way, it’s a responsibility, and especially with World of Warcraft, which seems to be attracting so many people who’ve never played an MMO before, it’s one I find I come across more and more. The experience of this player’s next six years could very well be shaped by the first six days – I suspect mine was – and I felt like I had a duty to help with advice and suggestions. We grouped a lot for a week or so, and then the Tyranny of Levels began to pull us apart – my obsession swiftly surpassing The Neophyte’s available playing time. A shame.

Of course, we still chat now and then, and I sometimes game-mail useful warrior magic items to them, and offer useful advice, but there is a danger in that – in helping too much. Nothing destroys a game faster than being twinked silly on your first day, and that doesn’t just apply to cash or items. We think we are helping by charting out a harshly optimised levelling regime from 1 through to 50, but in fact rob them of discovery, of trial and error and challenge. Too much help is often as bad as none at all.

And so I discover that The Neophyte as made a newbie of me as well; while I love pulling apart online worlds to see how they work, it had usually been for my own satisfaction alone; I have surprisingly little experience as a mentor, of being a guru or sage. Knowing not what a student wants, but what they need is no easy thing. And of course avoiding condescension and patronisation in the process is hard work too.

I moved on to meet new people and groups, but I still keep in touch, and who knows – with my current enforced rest break from WoW, The Neophyte may catch up with me again, and maybe even have a thing or two to teach me, even if it is just a renewed appreciation for the mundane.