In real life, my physical appearance leaves something to be desired; although my hair is nice a couple of times a week, my meager frame does not inspire fear in the minds of anyone. But suddenly, after a short click and password entry later, I become a titan, a force to be feared: a level 85 Elven Death Knight on the realm of World of Warcraft.

I dubbed the Death Knight “Moonrise.” I figured such a name would show a dark, mysterious side of me that I don’t have in real life. I assumed that people would see such a name, and wince in fear.

I was right.

Since I was a level 1 noobz0r still power leveling in the Elwynn Forest, players had a reverence for Moonrise. They likely drew the conclusion that a player with such a name was a large, muscular man that was only playing the game to be ironic. Boy, were they wrong.

As I rose through the ranks and stormed dungeon after dank dungeon, my Death Knight, who, of course, specialized in the Frost skill line (what the cool people play), gained virtual street cred, and my online ego grew. I began terrorizing the noobs; insulting their cheap armor and splintering their mail-order shields.

When I achieved the maximum level, and after collecting a full set of legendary armor, Moonrise became more than an online character; I would look in my bathroom mirror and wonder why I didn’t have on any Bondings of the Windseeker.

I became what people call: the flaming troll. I would destroy more than noob’s health bars; I destroyed their self esteem and their overall well-being. After delivering a killing blow, I would type a well-placed “lol nub, go back to the Adamantine Mines.”

I lived vicariously through Moonrise. I mean, I can’t kill Lich Kings in real life-at least not ones that drop the Vanquisher’s Mark of Sanctification.

The moral of the story is that despite the “cool kids’” use of alter egos for evil, this nerd’s alter ego helps him go to sleep without tears every night.