SDNess
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 4, 2004
- Messages
- 233
Author's Note: Wow...hello...it's been quite a while. I've been quite busy. Anyway, for creative writing we had to write a piece on a "personal loss". As you will see, this piece is based on a game of StarCraft. If you have played SC before, try to read this piece from the perspective of a person who has not played it before. We had a "peer editing" session where other people in my class read this copy (first draft). I can tell that all three of them have never played SC by just knowing their personality. They liked it, I guess. All in all, just give me some feedback on how to make it better...
Fatal Clicks
Droplets of sweat trickled down my flustered face. My room was dark and quiet except for the monotonous humming of my computer tower and sharp sounds of my mouse and keyboard. The rigid position of my body was uncomfortable, but I did not care. All that mattered was winning this match; my opponent and I, currently locked in a stalemate, were engaged in a game of StarCraft – an extremely well made, real time science fiction strategy game, in which the player controlled an army of militaristic units and simply raced to defeat his opponent. The reward for winning this specific game did not have any physical counterparts. Instead, the prize was entirely made up of one thing – pride. The victor of the match received honor – they were the smarter, more deadly general.
My opponent, who went by the internet name, Olldish, was commanding the Zerg Hive – a pseudo-insect, alien race that was extremely skilled at melee takes because of its fast reproduction rate. On the other hand, I was leading the Protoss Legion – a highly advanced, intellectual race that was more affective later on in the game if technology was constantly upgraded.
The stalemate had continued for an hour and twenty four minutes all ready. Neither side would budge. I stationed a squadron at all of the entrances. There were two possible pathways between each base. My main base was stationed at the north-eastern most point of the map, while his was at the southwestern corner.
My shirt was drenched in sweat; my hands trembling. This was a computer game…when had it become so serious? A sudden feeling of ambition and fatigue overcame me – I would be the aggressor and carry out a full fledged attack. It was time for this physical silence to end. Blood, despite its intangibility, would be shed.
I rapidly manuevured the mouse over the screen and overloaded my gateways (barracks) with units to produce. Many moments later, numerous zealots, dragoons, and archons gradually started appearing around my base. Once I reached the maximum of two hundred units, I ended the military production boom and began dividing my troops into squads by pressing the control key and a number. Each number identified a specific squadron. Each group was balanced as equally as possible; zealots for melee attacks, dragoons for projectile shots, and archons for overall power.
It was time. I moved each squadron down the southern most path, which included crossing a bridge over the River Styx. Suddenly, a hostile group of zerg hydralisks unburied themselves from the ground and began spitting out acid. The intense shrills of my zealots sounded throughout the room – the silence was broken. My troops, however, fought on and easily defeated the hydralisks with a melee-projectile strategy.
Olldish’s army had been defeated easily. That could not have been all. I could not become precarious. I moved my men further down the bridge to the opening of Olldish’s base. There was no sign of defense. How weird. Regardless, I attacked. It was my chance! The mass of Protoss units rushed throughout Olldish’s base; meeting only a few defensive structures that were easily defeated. Nevertheless, they began destroy the ornate Zerg structures.
A message abruptly came over the adjacent chat panel: “Haha…fooled you.” Dozens of Zerg air units began flying in from the east as they released a barrage of toxic fire. My zealots were rendered useless – they could not attack air units. Only my dragoons and archons were useful, but I had produced less of them. I watched in horror, forlorn of hope, as my army was massacred. The chilling blasts of archon explosions and dragoon malfunctions pierced my ears. The stalemate had ended. A new window with text appeared as the battle map closed. “You have failed to achieve victory.”
Fatal Clicks
Droplets of sweat trickled down my flustered face. My room was dark and quiet except for the monotonous humming of my computer tower and sharp sounds of my mouse and keyboard. The rigid position of my body was uncomfortable, but I did not care. All that mattered was winning this match; my opponent and I, currently locked in a stalemate, were engaged in a game of StarCraft – an extremely well made, real time science fiction strategy game, in which the player controlled an army of militaristic units and simply raced to defeat his opponent. The reward for winning this specific game did not have any physical counterparts. Instead, the prize was entirely made up of one thing – pride. The victor of the match received honor – they were the smarter, more deadly general.
My opponent, who went by the internet name, Olldish, was commanding the Zerg Hive – a pseudo-insect, alien race that was extremely skilled at melee takes because of its fast reproduction rate. On the other hand, I was leading the Protoss Legion – a highly advanced, intellectual race that was more affective later on in the game if technology was constantly upgraded.
The stalemate had continued for an hour and twenty four minutes all ready. Neither side would budge. I stationed a squadron at all of the entrances. There were two possible pathways between each base. My main base was stationed at the north-eastern most point of the map, while his was at the southwestern corner.
My shirt was drenched in sweat; my hands trembling. This was a computer game…when had it become so serious? A sudden feeling of ambition and fatigue overcame me – I would be the aggressor and carry out a full fledged attack. It was time for this physical silence to end. Blood, despite its intangibility, would be shed.
I rapidly manuevured the mouse over the screen and overloaded my gateways (barracks) with units to produce. Many moments later, numerous zealots, dragoons, and archons gradually started appearing around my base. Once I reached the maximum of two hundred units, I ended the military production boom and began dividing my troops into squads by pressing the control key and a number. Each number identified a specific squadron. Each group was balanced as equally as possible; zealots for melee attacks, dragoons for projectile shots, and archons for overall power.
It was time. I moved each squadron down the southern most path, which included crossing a bridge over the River Styx. Suddenly, a hostile group of zerg hydralisks unburied themselves from the ground and began spitting out acid. The intense shrills of my zealots sounded throughout the room – the silence was broken. My troops, however, fought on and easily defeated the hydralisks with a melee-projectile strategy.
Olldish’s army had been defeated easily. That could not have been all. I could not become precarious. I moved my men further down the bridge to the opening of Olldish’s base. There was no sign of defense. How weird. Regardless, I attacked. It was my chance! The mass of Protoss units rushed throughout Olldish’s base; meeting only a few defensive structures that were easily defeated. Nevertheless, they began destroy the ornate Zerg structures.
A message abruptly came over the adjacent chat panel: “Haha…fooled you.” Dozens of Zerg air units began flying in from the east as they released a barrage of toxic fire. My zealots were rendered useless – they could not attack air units. Only my dragoons and archons were useful, but I had produced less of them. I watched in horror, forlorn of hope, as my army was massacred. The chilling blasts of archon explosions and dragoon malfunctions pierced my ears. The stalemate had ended. A new window with text appeared as the battle map closed. “You have failed to achieve victory.”
