Dragonflight: A Mid-Expansion Reflection

We’ve been in Dragonflight for about a year, and we now know that the next World of Warcraft expansion is about a year away, so it seems like a good time to reflect on what we like and don’t like about this expansion.

Erik

I have been very happy with this expansion overall. I enjoy a lot of things about it, and I will be quite content to spend the next year or so in and around the Dragon Isles.

The only thing I really dislike about Dragonflight is dragonriding. I learned how to use the system effectively to get around, and it doesn’t bother me very much any more, but I have never enjoyed it. I find it over-designed and unengaging. It’s nice that, in the right terrain, it gives you a faster way to get from point A to point B, but it doesn’t give me the thrill that it gives a lot of other people. I accept that I am in a small minority with this opinion, and I am happy for everyone else who is enjoying dragonriding, but I’m delighted to be able to go back to the old, regular flying, even if it is slower. The rest of you can zoom and swoop ahead of me as much as you like; I’ll get there when I get there.

I love the Dragon Isles zone design. The artwork of this expansion is beautiful and bold. Every zone has its own identity while also feeling like they belong in the same space together. Having the four main zones in contiguous space, even though separated by cliffs and ridges, is also something I appreciate. The Shadowlands zones were well designed, but the fact that they were all separate from one another at times felt claustrophobic. I don’t much care for Zaralek Caverns, but I can mostly ignore that zone and still have plenty of things to do elsewhere.

I like that this expansion has taken a different approach to quests, dialog, characters, and their stories than we have seen in most of previous WoW. After a year of living with the story of Dragonflight, I think I can put my finger on what makes this expansion different: it is about the nuances of how we respond to trauma. Dragonflight is full of characters living with and reacting to histories of trauma, but different characters respond to that trauma in different ways. I know some players have been frustrated with the Dragonflight story and are annoyed that this expansion is less about Dragons Having Awesome Fights and more about Dragons Having Feelings and Talking, but I really appreciate an expansion that takes seriously the idea that the things we experience can inspire feelings other than rage and reactions other than violence. The last time World of Warcraft tried to engage with the trauma of war and the power of emotions was Mists of Pandaria, which lacked subtlety and came off as shallow and preachy. Dragonflight feels like the Warcraft writers’ room is finally staffed by people who have an adult understanding of life, and I hope that this is a change that sticks.

In terms of systems and gameplay, there has been a lot of good development in Dragonflight. I was a fan of the new talent trees from early on, and my fondness for them has not wavered. Now that I have had some time to play with the new crafting mechanisms, I am mostly happy with them—they sometimes feel overly complicated, but I largely enjoy exploring the new options that the crafting system has opened up. Once I got used to the flightstone/crest gear upgrade system, I’ve found it quite workable, and I really appreciate getting to collect tier sets without having to raid. The proliferation of world quests and events in the open world has sometimes felt bewildering, but for the most part, I appreciate always having something to do.

Eppu

Unlike Erik, I LOVE dragonriding! It’s perhaps my most favorite single thing in Dragonflight. Don’t get me wrong, it was a learning curve, and I still stumble occasionally (especially if my ageing mouse decides to act up). Optimally, I’d like a multi-character dragonriding vehicle (like the Sandstone Drake), so that when we play together I could ride us around and Erik would get the benefit of faster transit without the bother.

WoW Dragonflight Onahran Plains Emerald Bubble

I do agree with Erik about the zone design. It’s an absolutely gorgeous expansion. While Zaralek Cavern is not a favorite zone, per se, I quite like the cave-ish-ness of it, for the lack of a better word. Deepholm was already an impressive, underground-cavern-like-enough space with multiple levels of quest areas and subzones. ZC takes the fully matured terrain design to its logical conclusion with an absolutely, breath-takingly amazing underground space that is somehow at the same time huge enough to allow dragonriding between areas and claustrophobic enough to feel constricting. Hats off to the design team from me!

I also agree with Erik on collecting some tier gear without raiding. I have quite enough on my plate at the moment without that particular time sink.

However. Am I the only one who’s driven to distraction by the [multiple expletives removed] constant resetting of talent trees? Sheesh! While I’m all for tweaking and re-tweaking certain aspects of one’s life to one’s satisfaction, a computer game character’s talents isn’t one of them, and certainly not over and over and over. Perhaps I should just go with the suggested talent builds instead, even if it means losing some individuality.

I still find that the world quest refresh rate doesn’t work for me, and events don’t make up for that lack. Because I’m dealing with a more limited gaming time IRL, the last thing I want is to have to track game events’ start times and schedule my playing accordingly. Bleah.

Another aspect that currently doesn’t work for me—and for exactly the same reason as above—is the writers’ room’s penchant for ending campaign quest chains in a dungeon. Although, it sounds like Blizzard is about to change that radically with the new Follower Dungeons coming soon-ish(?) in patch 10.2.5. (In short, the idea is that players form a dungeon group with 1-4 characters and the game generates NPCs for the remaining slots.) I’m rather looking forward to being able to run a leveling dungeon privately, without risking a random jerk (or two or three) with a Looking For Group run.

The new customization options for druids at the barber shop are great fun.

WoW Dragonflight Druid Moonkin Form Barbershop

What kinds of thoughts do you have on Dragonflight thus far? Chime in!

A Gem-Studded Transmog for a Jewelcrafter

My Highmountain Tauren hunter is a jewelcrafter, so I’ve given her a transmog with a suitably gem-studded look. The cool colors of the gems are set off against gold and silver metalwork.

Maybe not a very practical set of garb for stealthily prowling the wilderness, but, eh, what’s fantasy for?

Here are the pieces that went into making the set.

Image: World of Warcraft screencap

Of Dice and Dragons talks about games and gaming.

Quotes: And Then It Leaves You Alone

The Finnish Independence Day is tomorrow, on December 6. In honor of a day of rest, here’s a quote celebrating the most important things in life for this Finn—food, clothes, books, and tea:

Current Reading Babel

“Professor Lovell spoke with uncharacteristic warmth. ‘It’s the loveliest place on earth.’

“He spread his hands through the air, as if envisioning Oxford before him. ‘Imagine a town of scholars, all researching the most marvellous, fascinating things. Science. Mathematics. Languages. Literature. Imagine building after building filled with more books than you’ve seen in your entire life. Imagine quiet, solitude, and a serene place to think.’ He sighed. ‘London is a blathering mess. It’s impossible to get anything done here; the city’s too loud, and it demands too much of you. You can escape out to places like Hampstead, but the screaming core draws you back in whether you like it or not. But Oxford gives you all the tools you need for your work – food, clothes, books, tea – and then it leaves you alone.’”

– Professor Lovell in Babel: An Arcane History by R.F. Kuang

Well—cold-sensitive, erudite, reclusive Finn or not, I do have to add a few carefully selected people into that mix. But otherwise it sounds very good. 🙂

Kuang, R.F. Babel: An Arcane History. New York: Harper Voyager, 2022, p. 23.

Image by Eppu Jensen

Making Clothes 9: Calculations

This post is a part of our Making Clothes series.

Now that we’ve gone through the process of producing raw materials, turning those materials into textiles, and turning those textiles into clothing, we’re rounding out this series with a little math. Given the labor and resources that went into making one outfit, how long would it have taken to make, from start to finish, and how much land did it take to grow everything on?

Our figures here are necessarily approximate. There are too many variables to take them all into account. A good year’s flax harvest or a clumsy hand at wool-carding could make a difference to how fast workers could gather and process materials. We’re also generally working with optimistic estimates. A more thoroughly realistic assessment would have to allow for lost time and material from shrinkage, breakage, wastage, crop failures, inclement weather, and so on. We’re aiming here to get a rough sense of just how much of an investment of labor time and productive land, at minimum, one set of clothes represented in the pre-modern world.

We are also assuming a community of skilled agriculturalists and crafters who know their trade and do not need to be taught or to experiment with processes of production. The passing on of such knowledge to new generations was in itself an important part of historical agricultural and textile production, but we leave that labor out of our calculations.

Pixabay Jo-B Medieval Man

Our example outfit consists of several pieces, each of which required materials and labor to make:

  • A long-sleeved linen undertunic reaching to the mid-thigh
  • A long-sleeved silk overtunic reaching to the knees
  • Leather footwear
  • A rectangular wool cloak of about knee-length

To see what it would take to produce this outfit, it is helpful to think backwards: the dimensions of our imaginary wardrobe tell us how much raw material would be needed to make it, which in turn dictates how much work would go into producing that material. We’re imagining this outfit for a person of any gender of about medium height and build. It does not represent any specific historical outfit, and does not belong to any particular place or time; a certain amount of vagueness in the design allows our outfit to reasonably stand in for clothes that could be found in many places and historical eras.

We calculate the following dimensions for the items in our wardrobe:

  • Undertunic: The undertunic is made from a piece of fabric measuring 210 x 75 cm, which is cut to yield two sleeve pieces and a long piece folded poncho-style for the front and back, with a hole cut for the head. The whole piece of fabric amounts to 1.575 square meters.
  • Overtunic: The overtunic is similarly cut from a piece of fabric measuring 225 x 90 cm, with two sleeve pieces and one long piece for front and back, amounting to 2.025 square meters of fabric.
  • Footwear: Our shoes are made from approximately one third of a square meter or leather per shoe, thus two thirds of a square meter for a pair.
  • Cloak: Our cloak is a rectangle 1 meter by 2 meters, for 2 square meters of wool.
T-Tunic Patterns Small

Finished clothes

Undertunic and overtunic – The construction method of these two garments is essentially identical, so the amount of time spent cutting, sewing, and finishing each one is approximately the same. With some reconstructed historical pieces for reference, we estimate that sewing a tunic-style garment such as these takes about 6 to 9 hours. We’ll take the average of the range and estimate that each garment takes 7.5 hours to cut and sew. The two together add up to 15 labor hours.

Footwear – Leather is slower to sew than fabric, but shoes are smaller than tunics. Our shoe models have around 120 cm of seam, and reconstructions show a leather stitching speed of 50 cm per hour. Allowing time for cutting and shaping (but omitting time for fitting to the wearer), each shoe would take about 2 hours to make, thus 4 labor hours for the pair.

Cloak – The cloak is straightforward, since it is simply a rectangular piece of woven cloth needing no sewing beyond the finishing of the edges. If the fabric was woven at a width of 1 meter, the selvages would make the long sides of the cloak; only the short sides would require hemming. At a hand-sewing speed of 1 meter per hour, sewing the cloak would take 2 labor hours.

Total cutting, sewing, and finishing time: 21 labor hours.

Fabrics/leather

Many factors affect the speed at which woven cloth is produced, from the size of the loom to the skill of the weaver. Historical recreations yield a range of weaving speeds from 180 to 255 square cm per hour. For the purposes of our project, we use an estimate of 200 square cm per hour for all types of fabric.

Linen – We need 1.575 square meters of woven linen, or 15,750 square cm, which would take approximately 79 hours to weave. Allowing time for set-up and maintenance of the loom and other necessary by-work, the production of the linen fabric from thread would require around 90 labor hours.

Silk – The calculations are similar for our silk. Weaving 2.025 square meters of silk would take a bit over 101 hours. With additional by-work, we can estimate about 110 labor hours to produce the silk fabric.

Wool – Likewise for our wool, the 2 square meters of wool we need would take about 100 hours to weave, coming to around 110 labor hours with additional work.

The time that it takes to spin the thread needed for weaving depends on how much thread goes into the finished fabric, which is affected by a host of factors: the thickness of the thread, the density of the weave, the width and length of the fabric, and so on. Rather than try to calculate all these possible elements, we work with a rough estimate that each of our fabric pieces required 10 km of thread, a measure based on both modern textile production and historical reconstructions. The further thread needed for sewing is a negligible addition. This rough figure allows for the possibility of variations in how each individual textile was produced while still giving us a reasonable estimate for the total investment of labor.

Spinning by hand yields around 40 to 60 meters of thread per hour. Taking the average of 50 m per hour, the 30,000 meters of linen, silk, and wool thread needed for our three pieces of fabric would take some 600 labor hours to spin.

Dyeing is a further step in the production process. The amount of time it takes to dye cloth depends on what dyestuffs are used, what kind of fabric is being dyed, and what the desired result is. Sourcing dyestuffs and preparing the dye bath also add to the labor. We estimate 10 hours of labor for each piece of fabric, and soaking in the dye bath adds several days of passive production time.

Flickr Shawn Harquail Spinning and dyeing the fibers

LeatherLeather production is complicated, as we outlined in our post about it. The two thirds of a square meter we need for our shoes could come from a single sheep hide (which typically yield 0.8 square meters of leather), but a lot of preparation and processing would have gone into making that hide into usable leather.

The amount of time it takes to produce leather from a fresh hide is widely variable depending on how the hide is treated and what steps are desirable for finishing it. Much of the time that it takes to prepare leather is passive time, as the hide sits on a rack or in various liquid treatments. For our purposes, we estimate that producing the leather for the shoes took 30 days from beginning to end, during which there were 12 hours of active labor. The passive production time for the leather can overlap with the passive dyeing time.

Total textile and leather production time: 952 labor hours, 30 days passive production.

Raw materials

We are estimating 10 km of thread of each fiber type for our complete outfit, but we must make a further calculation to determine how much raw material went into producing that thread. Threads can be spun at different thicknesses, so to get a sense of how much raw material went into our threads we need to convert length into weight. This conversion is expressed in a unit called tex, which gives the weight in grams of 1,000 m of a thread or yarn. Thinner threads are suitable for finer fabrics, while thicker threads can produce bulkier, rougher textiles. We consulted historical reconstructions to assign texes to our different threads.

Linen – For the linen undergarment, we want a fine fabric that feels good against the skin. For this purpose, we use a tex of 55, which means the 10 km of thread weighs 550 g. To get 550 g of spun linen thread we have to start with a much larger amount of flax, since flax processing removes as much as 90% of the material gathered from the field. Our 550 g of linen thread would require around 5.5 kg of flax.

Modern experiments with historical farming methods have yielded flax harvests of about 1 kg per square meter of field, so 5.5 kg of flax would need only about 5.5 square meters of field to grow in, which would take less than an hour both to plant and to harvest. Flax processing takes several steps, but for a modest amount of flax like this, the total active work time is not great. We can estimate 15 labor hours for flax processing from planting until the fiber is ready to spin. Along the way there is also about 100 days growing time for the plants, and some weeks passive time for retting.

Silk – For the silk tunic, we chose to use a coarser and heavier fabric with a tex of 180, which amounts to 1.8 kg in 10 km of thread. This amount of silk fiber represents the output of around 5,400 silkworms consuming the leaves of some 540 mulberry trees, which would need roughly 2 hectares of land to grow on. If starting silk cultivation from scratch, these trees would need a year to grow to maturity from the planting of cuttings, but we will assume that our silk comes from an established grove, and not count the planting, tree tending, or growing time into our estimates.

What we do need to account for, however, is the growth cycle and tending of the silkworms. Silkworms take 28 days from hatching until they are ready to spin, and require care as they grow. For our purposes, we estimate that caring for the silkworms takes at least eight hours of labor every day, between preparing food, feeding, and management. Once the cocoons are spun, a skilled hand can unreel their fiber quickly. Altogether, we estimate that the production of silk fiber takes 225 labor hours and 28 days of passive production.

Wool – Our wool cloak is a sturdy outer garment meant for warmth and protection against the elements. For this purpose we choose a tex of 500, which makes for 5 kg of wool thread. Historic breeds of sheep yield between 1 and 1.5 kg of wool per shearing, and some of that weight is lost in processing. We estimate that one sheep could yield 0.5 kg of wool fiber fit for spinning, so the 5 kg of fiber needed for our cloak represents one year’s fleece from 10 sheep.

A flock of 10 sheep would need some 10 hectares of grazing land. Sheep are sturdy animals and fairly self-reliant, but they do need tending to keep them safe from hazards and fed during the winter. We are being optimistic (perhaps even unrealistically so) and estimating 100 labor hours for sheep tending in a year. Once the fleece has grown, shearing is quick for a practiced hand. Based on various numbers given by modern shearers using hand shears, we estimate that a skilled shearer would be able to shear our 10 sheep in two hours. For the needs of wool production, then, we count 102 labor hours, a year of passive production, and 10 hectares of land.

Leather – The leather for our shoes could come from one of the sheep in the flock. Since the labor for tending the sheep is already accounted for, and slaughter and skinning are quick processes for an experienced hand, we add only 1 more labor hour to account for the production of the hide for tanning.

Total raw material production time and land needs: 343 labor hours, 1 year passive production, 12 hectares of agricultural and grazing land.

Final calculations

As we have noted many times, a lot of our figures are rough estimates at best. The actual production time for an outfit like ours would depend on numerous real-world factors that are beyond the scope of our project to account for. We are also largely discounting the effects of loss, wastage, and natural or human disaster—a flooded flax field or a neighboring people’s raid on the sheep pastures would throw all our calculations into disarray. Nevertheless, here is a rudimentary good-faith estimate of the time and land investment involved in making a single set of clothes in pre-modern conditions:

Active working time: 1,316 labor hours

Passive time: 1 year

Land requirements: 12 hectares

1,316 labor hours represents over 164 full 8-hours days of work for one person. Some of the work could be shared among several people, but there is a limit to how much efficiency could be gained by division of labor—you can’t make sheep grow fleece faster by adding more shepherds, for instance.

Once raw fibers have been produced, it would take some 973 labor hours to turn those fibers into finished clothes, or nearly 122 full 8-hour days. Even with a worker dedicated full-time to each material type (wool, linen, silk, leather), it would still take more than a month to finish the whole ensemble.

For one outfit, for one person to wear.

Flickr Billy Wilson Small Herculaneum Woman

Furthermore, every labor hour devoted to clothing production was an hour of labor not available to produce food, construct or maintain buildings, care for children or elders, or engage in other activities that were necessary for the safety and well-being of a community. Clothing was not just something to wear for historical people; it was a statement about the prosperity of their own families and the communities they lived within.

Further Reading

Ejstrud, Bo (ed.). From Flax to Linen: Experiments with Flax at Ribe Viking Centre. Esbjerg: Ribe Viking Centre and University of Southern Denmark, 2011. https://ribevikingecenter.dk/media/10424/Flaxreport.pdf

Köhler, Carl. A History of Costume. New York: Dover, 1963.

Mallory, J. P. & Victor H. Mair. The Tarim Mummies: Ancient China and the Mystery of the Earliest Peoples from the West. London: Thames & Hudson, 2000.

Mannering, Ulla & Charlotte Rimstad. Fashioning the Viking Age 2: From Analysis to Reconstruction. Copenhagen: The National Museum of Denmark, 2023. https://natmus.dk/fileadmin/user_upload/Editor/natmus/oldtiden/Fashioning_the_Viking_Age/From_Analysis_to_Reconstruction_-_high_resolution.pdf

Owen-Crocker, Gale R. Dress in Anglo-Saxon England [revised and enlarged ed.]. Woolbridge: Boydell Press, 2004.

Pasanen, Mervi & Jenni Sahramaa. Löydöstä muinaispuvuksi [From Finds to Reconstructed Dress]. Salakirjat, 2021.

Postrel, Virginia. The Fabric of Civilization: How Textiles Made the World. New York: Basic Books, 2020.

Strand, Eva Andersson & Ida Demant. Fashioning the Viking Age 1: Fibres, Tools & Textiles. Copenhagen: The National Museum of Denmark, 2023. https://natmus.dk/fileadmin/user_upload/Editor/natmus/oldtiden/Fashioning_the_Viking_Age/Fibres__Tools_and_Textiles_-_high_resolution.pdf

Walton Rogers, Penelope. Textile production at 16-22 Coppergate. York: Council for British Archaeology, 1997. https://www.aslab.co.uk/app/download/13765738/ASLab+PWR+1997+AY17-11+Textile+Production+for+web.pdf

Images: Medieval man via Jo Justino at Pixabay. Sample T-tunics by Eppu Jensen. Hand-stitching leather shoes, photograph by Jeff Mandel via ExIT Shoes (CC BY 4.0). Spinning and dyeing in Chinchero, Peru, by Shawn Harquail via Flickr (CC BY-NC 2.0). July, from the Grimani Breviary via Wikimedia (Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana; 1490-1510; illumination on parchment). Small Herculaneum Woman, reconstruction of a marble statue, by Billy Wilson via Flickr (CC BY-NC 2.0).