Rise and Grind

A love letter to PS2 MMOs from the world's most non-committal player

I imported a Japanese copy of Final Fantasy XI for PC in 2002. It wasn’t exactly an impulse purchase, given I had set up an eBay account under the false pretense of being a legal adult in order to purchase the game from a reseller, but not exactly one I had really thought through as a tween. I understood the game - an MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game) - was relayed almost exclusively in Japanese, and that I would be at a disadvantage playing it with a language barrier. I didn’t care - I wanted to play the game and presumed I would be able to find enough English-speaking players to get by. Eager, I paid a hero’s ransom for the game and, a few weeks later installed it on the family PC in the basement. After being treated to a dazzling open cinematic, I held my breath for a login screen that would never come. In all my excitement being a first-time importer & PC gamer in the early 2000s, I forgot to check to see if my computer could even run the game. It would be two years - and another MMO in the interim - before I would play the game.

Final Fantasy XI, the series’ first foray into online gaming, was released in Japan in 2002. Until this point, the series was known for single player, offline installments. FFXI changed this significantly, as the game has no offline component. Players need the internet - and a valid monthly subscription fee - in order to play the game. Similarly, while the other mainline Final Fantasy games featured predefined characters through a controlled narrative, Final Fantasy XI touted nearly unlimited adventures and emphasized player choice from the jump - including with an extensive character builder. Before starting off in the world of Vana'diel, players would build a character across a handful of races while customizing their gender, physical appearance, national allegiance and perhaps most importantly, their job.

Even NPCs can be shitty dads - don’t worry, I gave the boy his fishing rod back.

FFXI included a handful of classic jobs from the series, including my personal favorite, the Red Mage. While other starter jobs emphasized offensive physical abilities or use of magic spells, the Red Mage could do both - just not as well as a job dedicated to one or the other. I could use offensive magic and healing spells, but at a slower and less effective rate than a White or Black Mage. There are over 22 jobs available in Final Fantasy XI, with the interesting wrinkle of allowing subjobs as well, meaning after a certain point, characters can equip a second job at half the effectiveness of their main level, allowing for some unheard-of combinations. (Example, a Level 20 Warrior who is also a Level 10 Summoner).

The main story scenario of Final Fantasy XI had its last proper story update in 2023. While the game has changed significantly in the 22 years since its release, the bones of Vana'diel are there - just with a host of quality-of-life improvements to modernize gameplay systems and attitudes that have shifted significantly since. It may be hard to believe there are people still subscribing to this game in 2024, especially considering there’s an entire other Final Fantasy MMO with Final Fantasy XIV Online, released in 2010 which is wildly popular. Yet there is a certain quality to XI that continues to beckon to me after all this time. The game has been installed on every PC I’ve owned since I got a laptop in college powerful enough to play it (2005), even though there are stretches of years where I haven’t touched it.

But for two years before I ever played the game, I would sit there and stare at my useless copy of the game or watch the opening movie a few times (this was before YouTube). I would daydream about playing this game. During this period, I would have my first exposure to online console gaming, and MMORPGs generally, with the introduction of EverQuest Online Adventures for the PlayStation 2.

EverQuest Online Adventures looks prettier in my memory.

EverQuest Online Adventures (EQOA), released in February 2003, was another MMORPG for the PlayStation 2 that came out an entire year before Final Fantasy XI. Based upon the same world featured in the PC game EverQuest, OA boasted fifteen playable classes across ten races. Similar to FFXI, the game required online functionality and a monthly subscription, and was a class-based action RPG where you could form parties with other players to defeat enemies and gain experience, gear, and more. There was also a rudimentary PVP (player vs player) system allowing for players to combat each other in particular instances.

I had never played EverQuest before, but the siren’s call of the PS2’s online functionality worked on me. I had picked up the PS2’s Network Adaptor a few months prior but was limited to a puzzle game or first-person shooter. Neither of these excited me, and Final Fantasy XI was still over a year away. Seeing the word ONLINE in big writing on the art sealed the deal, and I plunked down some cash and picked up the game.

Honestly, EQOA is ugly and kind of janky, and just sort of drops you off in this garish world of polygons and little music. It didn’t utilize a hard drive, meaning the game was running lean and mean off its disc and whatever energy it could muster from your 8MB memory card. Kids today really don’t understand the struggle. Sure, it was ugly and lacked polish - but for someone like me, barely a licensed driver who had spent months rifling through video game magazines looking at ONLINE VIDEO GAMES, it was exactly what I hoped for. Running through these seemingly endless zones, grouping together with strangers and using a keyboard to chat while pummeling monsters and casting magic spells? This is simply what the internet was designed for.

Outside of a major city in EQOA.

I would tinker with EQOA for a few months, playing a bit here and there. I would never get terribly far, creating a new character with a new class and starting nation, exploring the low stakes missions and quests before getting distracted by another game. I’d eventually stop buying game cards, letting my subscription expire and sending those digital creations of mine into the abyss where they would never be seen again. EverQuest Online Adventures would get a single expansion in November 2003 with smaller updates until it’s servers finally shut down on March 29, 2012. At that point, I was approaching law school graduation, and my gaming time was dwindling. I didn’t have time for single player games, let alone an online game that required an ongoing financial and personal commitment.

While I had largely left the worlds of Vana'diel and Norrath behind, they were never truly gone. I held onto my useless physical copy of EQOA where it sits on the shelf, and I would periodically return to FFXI during campaigns allowing returning players to log in for free, if only to check in and listen to a few minutes of the background music in locations like Ronfaure and Selbina. Each time, I would create a new character and start anew, never making it farther than I did all those years ago during the “75 era,” back when the level cap was 75 and the game was wholesale less forgiving and more demanding than it is now. With modernity and competition came fewer subscriptions, leading developers to introduce quality of life changes to keep players coming back. They would; I wouldn’t. But I would still listen to the music and remember with fondness the days of playing with strangers, like my Linkshell mate Kypdurron, a high-level dragoon who always helped me out with gear and quests. Or even the days of playing alongside my younger brother, where we would both play on our laptops or on consoles sitting next to each other, or in another room - sometimes in another state or country.

There was such a social component to these games, especially back then. You could “listen” to conversations other players were having, join guilds with other players, harvest friend lists and regular play groups. The social aspect of the game fostered a sense of community which, to a teenager, felt like a moment where the world - the real one - opens up, even if through this uniquely digital experience. But even for a moment in my life in 2004, my online friends were more than that. There’s a reason why I still remember the handle of a complete stranger who I played a video game with twenty years ago. Guy could be dead, or my neighbor. Who knows!

Happy Holidays from San d’Oria.

Despite my love for both these games, I do not have the time to sink into a game that requires a base purchase and a monthly subscription. I’m already overstimulated, overscheduled, and underslept. My brain will glitch if I have to add in a weekly gaming session to fit in a “raid.” Still not sure what a raid is. Simply put, I am not an MMO sicko. The monthly subscription fee is always a bit of a vibe killer for me as well, as it makes the hobby of gaming feel like a job. I already have one of those. But in 2004, baby, we were cooking - for a while at least.

But as 2024 winds down, I found myself in the position of wanting to revisit these worlds. If not to necessarily revisit them as they exist now, but to refresh my recollection of those experiences during particular times in my life. I wasn’t keen on renewing another subscription to FFXI, and EQOA has been offline for 12 years. Through the use of private servers, however, I’ve been able to at least dip my feet back into them, even if briefly.

A private server seeks to mimic or recreate online game servers, usually created by a third party and hosted on a server that is not maintained or affiliated with the actual development team of the MMO. I’ve found private servers for FFXI and EQOA, both featuring their own modifications and adjustments - and even their own original content. It’s one of those legally murky issues in gaming, like emulation, but there is a rich history of private servers being used to bridge the gap for players to revisit worlds that are shut down or otherwise no longer exist.

Character selection screen, EQOA

Over the last two weeks, I’ve been bouncing back and forth between the two, revisiting classic themes from FFXI and realizing that I appreciate the memory of EQOA much more than actually replaying it. I am happy to be able to dip my elven toes back into the game world, but it’s always the memory I savor more than its subject. Without the bustling world of hundreds, it feels quiet, and I realize much of what I’m doing is new. The absence of nostalgia makes actively playing it more laborious than I’d like. I’m thankful this private server exists and for having the chance to play it - and likely continue playing it, even if in short bursts - but I can get the same feeling from looking at a screenshot of the game.

Final Fantasy XI, however, is not giving up as easily. I’ve been playing with my brother, a time-honored tradition we started when I went to college. I would play on my laptop in my dorm room while he played the PS2 version at home. When the game shipped to Xbox we bought two copies and played it side by side, shouting to each other in the next room. We live down the street from each other now, so after I get my kids to bed I’ve been summoning him on Discord so we can chat while we party up.

We’ve had a great time laughing as we revisit particularly aggressive enemies who caused us plenty of problems over the years and reminisce about the music featured at the handful of Final Fantasy orchestral shows we’ve attended together. Playing together again helped me realize that I don’t actually have much affinity for any particular version of this game. It doesn’t matter to me if it’s the more difficult retail version that came out in 2004 or a more subdued version of the game with quality-of-life changes meant to modernize the experience.

Loitering outside the auction house in San d’Oria, one of the major nations in FFXI.

It’s not about what version of the game I’m playing, but more who I am with and why I am playing. With Final Fantasy XI, it feels like home because this is a game I’ve been playing on and (mostly) off with my brother for half of our lives. It feels like home because it is one, at least in a digital space that has remained constant while literally every other facet of our lives has changed. We’ve had so much fun playing this game until I have to log out because I’m falling asleep, that I’ve completely stopped playing anything else. We’ve decided to get back into the retail game, to support the title since it is still available and to give a fair attempt at completing the extensive storylines and to finally find out what the hell “AF Armor” is.

Our return to Vana'diel happens to coincide with the game’s “Return to Home” campaign. It’s a two-week period over the holiday when former players can return for free to see what they’ve been missing. We’re bidding adieu to our private server characters and going back home to see what’s changed since we’ve been gone. Who knows how long we’ll be back, or if I’ll ever break past level 40 with my new character. At least this time around, I know my computer can run the game.