The Dolyak God

I came to video games later in life than most of my friends, only really taking an interest in MMOs when I was in my late twenties. I had already graduated college, travelled the world a bit, and was settling into the idea that maybe being a starving artist wasn't the best career choice. At the same time, I was also settling into the idea that - since I had yet to find a partner - marriage might not be in the cards for me either.

Video games provided and outlet from the stifling frustration of my corporate day job. All in all, the $60 I paid for the game Guild Wars 2 was a pretty good deal. GW2 gave me countless hours of entertainment, and - with the discovery of Teamspeak - the ability to socialize with my likeminded (re: neurotic) new friends in a way that didn't require me to wear pants.

At some point, I was adopted by a guild - a group of players who felt bad that I was wandering around cluelessly by myself, and decided they could use a mascot. They were intense fellows, and riotously fun to be around - but they did not like going to meetings. So, in an effort to discourage further meeting invitations, they would send me to any meetings that the other guilds on our server asked us to attend.

Because I am me, and I enjoy being mildly irritating, I took on a special cause during these meetings. My chosen cause was the Dolyak. Dolyaks are a large, wooly beasts of burden that carry supplies from point A to point B, and if you don't escort them they are highly likely to be slaughtered by enemy players. So, in every meeting I attended, I would stump for the Dolyaks, spending several minutes ranting about how we should dedicate ourselves to their defense.

One day, after I finished my Dolyak rant, one of the attendees - who we were trying to convince to join our server - actually responded. Not just by way of waving off my comments, but by agreeing with me - and providing a statistical analysis that supported my inane desire to defend yaks. Defending the yaks, he insisted, would give us a points advantage over the enemy.

In that moment, this man became my hero. The Dolyak God who knows all there is to know about dolyaks - even more than I knew, and I spent half my time walking the damn things back and forth. At least, this is how I began referring to him in his mind - though I didn't get the chance to talk to him again for quite some time.

Months later, after I accidentally started a war over Dolyaks, he messaged me again - just to say hello. Soon, I noticed that his handle in Teamspeak was Kami - which translates to, you guessed it, 'God.' When I mentioned this to him, he laughed and said, "My name is Dave, but we can go with God if you like."

That wry sense of humor, which I'd gotten a taste of before, only endeared him to me further. He was a bit of an enigma; I needed to learn more. Over the span of days, that turned into months, I realized that I could spend my life learning more.

If any one thing in our relationship has carried us through the last eight years of marriage, it is Dave's remarkable ability to - with a completely straight face - agree with whatever madness I start spouting off.

Then, he supported my mad desire to defend digital pack animals; now he sits at booths with me, happily chatting with clients about my silk work. Now, like then, I sometimes think he knows more about me - and the things I am passionate about - than I do.

And, there is always more to learn about him - though I have peeled back enough of his enigmatic layers to get to the man beneath.

Even now, when I know him warts and all, Dave is still my hero - and he's still The Dolyak God.