The table was set. A Mexican restaurant outside of Nashville was to become host to a banquet attended solely by the members of Tied the Leader’s Official Halo2 Clan of gamers. Pitchers of Margaritas punctuated the place settings at regular intervals. Baskets of chips and plates of entrees rounded out the feast. In all, 16 Gunslingers held down the table, holding palaver and becoming acquainted face-to-face for the first time.
Some had traveled from across town to meet the people behind the voices that filled the earpiece of their Xbox Live communicator on a weekly basis. Others had traveled from as far as Florida or Michigan or Chicago. The greatest journey was made 2 Gunslingers from Utah, their lady-friends in tow; all packed into the friendly confines of a compact four-seater.
DTS Pastor, whose birthday was used as the catalyst for this gathering of Halophiles, said it best: “This is truly a thing of the 21st Century.” Friends who had met playing a video game had converged on an unlikely town chosen for its centrality. This was a meeting of minds who were bound together by the pastime online multiplayer. To us, it seemed as good a reason as any to hold down a hotel and invade a local restaurant. To others, it would have been an activity beyond the reach of their understanding.
After the conclusion of the meal, a motorpool of cars raced back to the hotel; piled high with anxious gamers. While our access to the conference room was not to begin until the following morning, the urge to create the setting and give it a roadtest was too much to resist. Like a swarm of bees, gamers descended from their rooms with milkcrates, duffles, boxes, and bags filled with all of the various trappings of a LAN Party. That was, after all, why we had made the trip – to participate in our favorite common pastime in the same environment. Eye contact. Chatter unbound by a microphone. Comraderie not contained to a post-game lobby. Perhaps a high-five. Maybe even a right hook or a round-house kick.
The tidy business setting that had been prepared for the room was demolished within a matter of minutes. Dressings were ripped from round tables [leaving baskets of candies in tact, I might add] and repurposed as projection screens tacked to the wall. Sub-woofers were placed on the floor, wired to speakers and game consoles. Projectors were sighted in and focused. Yards upon yards of networking cable spilled out from a burlap sack.
Four round tables were pushed together in the center of the room, creating a four-leaf clover of would-be carnage and mayhem. Two projector stations held down the corners of the cavernous space. A Gunslinger named Fouch appointed himself LAN architect. A diminished roll of tape in hand, he emerged from under the island of tables in what seemed like moments, having wired every box in the room through a carefully taped-down web of cable. A place had been set for each of the 16 gamers to participate in live tournaments and custom matchmaking. The lights went out, power switches were toggled, and those familiar monks began chanting that familiar tune – the one that signified to the members of our respective households that it was time for them to go to bed – and time for us to game.
For those who attended, the rest becomes a blur. For a few Gunslingers, this was their first experience playing over a local network. The absence of lag drew more that a few pleased gasps, as their shotguns finally delivered the intended result. For others, the spectre of live play managed to boil the blood more than usual. Taken off of their couch and placed eye to eye with one’s opponents, more than one Gunslinger found a knack for more than the usual amount of profanity grunted in rebuke of defeat.
The gameplay at this LAN, at least to begin with, was freeform in nature. We had all played under the structured rule of Xbox Live. Our party was intended to provide us a chance to get better acquainted. For many of us, this translated to receiving a solid education in Fragonomics at the hands of a Gunslinger known as Ender, who shined more brilliantly in person than he ever seemed to through the Internet. For others, a Halo LAN party was an unexpected venue for reunions with High School classmates. As an experiment, a stroll down the memory lanes of Halo: Combat Evolved completely debunked [at least for the members of this clan] the notion that H1 > H2.
Over time, early departures thinned the ranks of the attendees of the first [and certainly not last] Official LAN Party of Tied the Leader. With only the faithful remaining, wishes were granted, and business got down to competition in a live tournament. This is where a LAN Party becomes more than playing video games in person. After all the gas money, after the hotel fare, after all the duct tape and networking cable; a LAN Party does not complete itself until the venue is tranformed into a Thunderdome. One by one, Gunslingers squared off against their brother to determine who was the best.
In the end, it was a defensive captain under the gamertag of Wayn0ka who carried the bragging rights home with him. For the second time in a row, this fierce competitor stood toe to toe with his fellow gamer and fought to the last. The spirit of competition has always been a thing for sportsmen and athletes. In the 21st Century, it belongs to the gamer as well.