I was running toward the gates leading out of Silvermoon City when I saw my future sugar daddy. He seemed too big to be real; his hulking golden armor looked as if it were floating on his body as he gracefully walked by. I smiled at him coyly, curious about the stranger, unaware that he would soon become my benefactor.
World of Warcraft (WoW) is new to me; I am a relatively weak and inexperienced blood elf. Though I have chosen to follow the lefthand path as a warlock specializing in the study of demonology, I am poorly equipped and have little to my name in Azeroth. I've learned a lot about survival in a short time. As in the physical world, it is sometimes helpful to have an older, wealthy protector to care for you as you gain your footing in life.
The concept of WoW sugar daddies isn't entirely unique. You can find people alluding to them in virtual in-game pubs, and in online forums, but concrete information is scarce. When a woman seeking a sugar daddy in WoW posted on the Gamefaqs forum six years ago, several users expressed interest, though some had requirements, like photographic evidence that the woman was sexy. Another user posted on Reddit last year that he'd obtained the maximum amount of gold a user can have in WoW, but worried that if he told his friends he'd become "everyone's sugar daddy." There isn't any information online for how to find such a relationship, nor narrative accounts of what they're actually like.
The elf in the big armor looked powerful to me. I was being social when I smiled. He nodded back in recognition. "Good evening, my lady," Zogue* said. He asked me where I'd come from, and I told him my elf's backstory—my family was exiled, I've been alone since then, and the dark arts saved my life. Concerned that I was alone in a world of corruption and despair, Zogue offered to help me. He summoned a motorcycle with a sidecar and invited me to hop in. Over the next few hours, Zogue drove me across the Eastern Kingdoms, aiding my quests in areas where I surely would have died on my own.
"Do you need any bags?" Zogue asked as I sank my staff into a freshly killed orc corpse. Indeed, I needed bags. Not only are they fabulous accessories, they're really important for carrying items in World of Warcraft. Zogue took me back to Silvermoon City, the blood elf metropolis located along the northern coast of the Eastern Kingdoms. There, my sugar daddy bought me several expensive bags in the bazaar. I could never have afforded them on my own.
The next day, I saw Zogue near the sun spire. He beckoned me close to him. "Hey hun," Zogue said, "this should help." Then he handed me 500 gold coins—far more money than I've ever had in Azeroth. I thanked him profusely, but he told me to think nothing of it. "I have more than 50,000," Zogue said, hugging me. "I'll always help you."
I've never had a sugar daddy in my real life, but I've benefited tangentially from the sugar daddies of my friends; a sugar baby's clique sometimes gets caught in a shower of financial affection. As a rational person, I've obviously been interested in such a relationship. However, I believe that my sugar daddy in World of Warcraft is even more rewarding. It doesn't hurt that Zogue has not yet asked for anything in return for his support.
After meeting Zogue, I wondered what made him choose me. I'd smiled at him when we first met, but is that really all it takes to find a sugar daddy in WoW? I delved into the field to find out just how easy it is to be provided for in Azeroth.
I went to a small village in the woods and ran up to a female human warrior. My first sugar daddy was a guy, but why couldn't my next be a woman? I asked the warrior if she would talk to me privately. "Sure," she said, following me behind a big tree.
If you're trying to get a sugar daddy in WoW, you should be direct. It had been Zogue's idea to financially provide for me, but I found others were receptive if I proposed the idea. I told the warrior my story and explained that I was seeking someone to care for me. "Will you provide for me financially?" I asked. "Yeh," she replied. Naturally, I was overjoyed by how easy it had been, but I'll never know if the woman was for real. Right after she agreed to care for me, fate intervened: I had a lunch meeting to go to in the physical world. I told the warrior to wait for me, but when I returned hours later, she was gone.
Sometimes political differences can become a barrier between you and an otherwise doting sugar daddy. After my disappointment with the warrior, I returned to the Wayfarer's Rest Tavern in Silvermoon City and invited a level-100 blood elf paladin to speak with me privately in a bedroom upstairs. He responded positively to my request for his aid, but when the paladin found out that I am a demonology warlock, he backed away from me. The paladin are a sect of holy knights whose might is rooted in the use of divine magic. "Listen, I can't associate with someone who uses the dark arts," Cristothine* explained, shaking his head.
If you're looking for a caregiver, get your hands on a cute hat ASAP.
He may not have agreed to financially support me, but he certainly was generous. "In the future, we may see each other on the opposite sides of the battlefield," Cristothine said. "However, if that day comes... I will make it painless for you." I thanked the paladin for this kindness, and he wished me luck on my quest for a benefactor.
"What do you think of my hat?" I asked Cristothine, trying to lighten the mood before parting ways. My hat is one of the few possessions I have in Azeroth. I found it in a dungeon. It is red and covered in jewels. I'm quite proud of it. "It's a pretty cool hat," Cristothine told me.
Suddenly, a heavily armored elf came hopping up the stairs. She started jumping in circles around us. "Nice hat," she said, and then hopped away. It was peculiar, but more peculiar still was the second elf who walked into the room. "Nice hat," she said. Cristothine became disturbed by this odd happening and ran away. Why were so many people complimenting my hat all of a sudden? I made nothing of it, thanked the stranger for the compliment, and left the inn.
As I walked across the city center, a third female elf approached me. "Can I just say," Grogella* said, "what a lovely hat you have?"
Though being direct has proved fruitful for me, it is also important to establish some kind of bond with the other player, which is fairly easy to do if you're a role player like I am. I thanked Grogella for her kind comment, however strange it was. My hat had become a sensation. Perhaps it was an appealing quality to sugar daddies, or mommies, in Azeroth. I can't be certain, but if you're looking for a caregiver, get your hands on a cute hat ASAP.
Grogella followed me to a small tent on a plot of grass in the back of the city. I told her the story of my exiled family. "This strange hat is all I have," I told her. "How horrible," she said. "That is a wonderful hat."
I thanked her for her kind words about my hat and explained that I am in need of someone to provide for me. "This sounds like a job for a maid," Grogella said. "Is that what you require of me?" I clarified that she would be my benefactor, not my maid. Grogella told me the proposition was interesting, and asked what she would get out of the relationship.
I wondered if Grogella was going to demand sexual services of me in exchange for her support. I've not confronted that yet, but one day I surely will; it's something one must consider before getting into this lifestyle. Grogella didn't want me to have sex with her, though—she was far more humble. When I asked her to tell me what she would need in return, Grogella said, "I guess the feeling of selfless caring." It was like an alternate version of Pretty Woman, in which Julia Roberts is an elf, and there's no sex. Once Grogella had agreed to be my sugar mommy, she asked me what I needed at the moment. I had been wanting a shirt for some time, so she escorted me to the auction house in the center of Silvermoon City as if it were Bloomingdale's.
I found myself becoming a vapid, materialistic succubus; it was as if a lowly troll had snuck up on me and flipped a personality switch.
However, when we arrived, it became clear that Grogella wasn't a wealthy elf. "These shirts are far too expensive," she said. We walked to the Silvermoon Finery, where she purchased me a common gray shirt. "For now this shall have to do," Grogella said. "Unfortunately I cannot afford much right now." I felt somewhat bad asking this evidently poor elf to buy me things, but that thought was drowned out by how much I loved my new shirt. "How does it look?" I asked her.
"Fantastic," she said.
Disturbingly, I found myself becoming a vapid, materialistic succubus; it was as if a lowly troll had snuck up on me and flipped a personality switch. "If you could afford more, would you spend it on me?" I asked Grogella. "I would," she said. That was exciting. I blushed.
"May I have some money for dinner?" I asked, knowing I didn't need a dime for food. It's not necessary to eat in video games. Grogella gave me the money. "Perhaps you need somewhere to stay to sleep?" she suggested. I told her yes, and she walked me back toward Wayfarer's.
Here, my conscience began to surface again. As we walked, I felt a little bad that I was using Grogella in this way. But just then she began moving frantically, lifting her arms in the air. "Ah, a mouse," she said.
I cast a fatal spell on the rodent. "Are you alright?!" I asked Grogella urgently. "I hope so," she replied. "I was really terrified." As she tucked me into bed at Wayfarer's Rest, I was happy that I'd found a way to repay Grogella. The sun was setting in Azeroth. Zogue's gold was heavy in my pocket, and my new shirt really did look fantastic. I could get used to this.
*Names have been changed.