‘World of Warcraft’ Roleplay Is the Twitch-Era Soap Opera We Need

Sun pours through the lush foliage of a jungle, bleaching the pale limestone as a rotting man stands in the center of an otherwise empty arena, his yellow eyes leering from beneath a fringe of limp, blonde hair. Positioned around the edge are a hundred bodies, Orcs and Trolls and bipedal oxen shouting, demanding, the death of the dishonorable. Their voices swell into a cacophony of noise before one rings out above the rest, howling, “Kill the cheater and you’ll get 20 gold!” There is silence, and then another frenzy. As I watch, eyes fixed on the dim glow of a laptop screen, I think of the colosseum in Rome — sweat running down the muscled arms of battle-tested gladiators, the crowd cheering for blood.

This might sound like a moment pulled from a high fantasy drama made for prestige TV, but this is World of Warcraft, a now 20-year old online RPG. Instead of actors parading in front of green screens, this story’s cast are streamers that occupy a virtual world. Tensions are high not because they’re scripted, but because in World of Warcraft’s Hardcore mode, death is permanent. Dejected, though acknowledging the transgression made, Sequisha — the streamer who was promptly executed for cheating — sighs, and goes back to the character select screen. He creates a new avatar; it’s time to start the game all over again.

Sequisha’s execution and subsequent reincarnation is just one of hundreds of stories playing out everyday in World of Warcraft as streamers have flocked to the massively multiplayer online RPG (MMORPG) to play together. Through their strife, and a commitment to staying in-character via roleplay, groups like the guild OnlyFangs have turned World of Warcraft into an RPG within an RPG, playing out improvisational personal drama where the stakes are high.

In Hardcore mode, World of Warcraft has become the best soap opera on the internet, all playing out across over dozens of OnlyFangs creator streams every day.

What is OnlyFangs?

To commemorate the 20th anniversary of World of Warcraft, Blizzard Entertainment created a set of new servers designed to draw in fans old and new. This included a “Classic” server, which recreates the look and mechanics of the game’s earliest days, and will eventually be updated to include its expansions, starting with 2007’s The Burning Crusade and 2008’s Wrath of the Lich King. 

The other big addition is a “Hardcore” server. Unlike standard servers, if you die in Hardcore, that character is lost forever — including rare items and gold. Between these new high-stakes servers and 2024’s The War Within expansion, interest in the game had been renewed, driving creators back to the world of Azeroth to mine a deep well of fresh content. Since the bump in users, World of Warcraft has remained a hot category on platforms like Twitch and YouTube, with overall viewership reaching well above 50 thousand, even during usual off hours, and it seems like everyone wants a piece of the pie.

Swaths of streamers have decided to team up and create guilds, enclosed social networks where players can ask for help or chat in semi-private spaces, for the sole purpose of jumping into the new Hardcore server. One such guild began early with the first wave of Hardcore servers: OnlyFangs — a group of some of the most popular creators on Twitch like Mizkif, Pokimane, and the guild’s leader Sodapoppin, who is currently the world’s most popular World of Warcraft streamer.

After amassing a huge following with their first big season of Hardcore mode streaming, OnlyFangs made some big changes, even dropping famous names like Pokimane for not being devoted to the leveling grind. Led by Sodapoppin, co-creator and co-owner of the Stream Team (an assembly of massively popular influencers and content creators) “One True King,” or OTK, a new wave of participants across North America and Europe were recruited into the second season of guild play. And there would be a lot more drama this time around as OnlyFangs would be diving headfirst into the world of roleplaying, demanding that everyone involved fully commit to the bit.

What they didn’t know was their experiment in World of Warcraft roleplay would inadvertently create one of the best emergent dramas on the internet.

Setting up a roleplay shared universe

In November 2024, OnlyFangs began the long journey to Molten Core, a level 60 dungeon, for their second season on the side of the Horde — World of Warcraft’s seemingly nefarious, but far more narratively complex faction. Choosing a faction, be it Horde or Alliance, impacts what quests players can pick up, what major cities and outposts they will have access to, and the races and classes they can select when it comes time to create a character. 

Comprised of green Orcs, blue-hued and tusked Trolls, rotting Undead, and the bestial, horned Tauren, participating streamers were sorted into these four racial groups based on a personality test taken beforehand. This would also limit streamers on what classes they could play, as the options in Classic (also known as “vanilla”) World of Warcraft were not as expansive as they are now. But most importantly, once a streamer’s character died in game, that character would be gone forever, with the streamer forced to start from zero should they want to continue the challenge of making it to level 60 and completing Molten Core.

The nature of these specific servers means that there’s actually something to lose, that time and energy put into a character could be wasted with one bad encounter or another player fumbling with their button inputs or healing potions. This is one of the core components of what makes World of Warcraft Hardcore so compelling. It’s the risk factor that makes games like Dark Souls so exciting to play or watch.

On top of an already rigid set of rules and the high stakes environment, each streamer is expected to role-play as the character they had created, similar to a session of Dungeons & Dragons. Adhering to the lore of World of Warcraft and responding to situations the way their character might. Are they a hard-headed Orc that had a lust for battle? Or are they an Undead that wouldn’t hesitate letting another player die if it meant their own survival? These factors contribute to how players approach specific situations and weave into how they interact with their fellow guild members. It’s like a Grand Theft Auto role-playing server, just with high fantasy races and the shadow of perma-death looming over every dungeon run. 

For the season, over 100 streamers, including members of OTK or other popular independent talents such as PirateSoftware, are placed into factions and must stay in-character to create a sense of emergent storytelling. Some Troll players thank their deities, the “Loa,” (the gods of the Troll faction) for good luck or even claim to feel the death of another player through the invisible gods. In reality, the divine voice they “hear” is actually just an in-game notification that another player had bitten the dust. On top of this, each faction is vying against one another every week for the top spot, with the loser facing some kind of punishment. This fosters rivalries among the individual factions, adding to the narrative that continues to unfold week after week.

During each session, it’s up to the streamers to keep up the performance and remain in-character. This self-imposed rule creates organic events, making the streams more engaging to watch as players chat about the current activity of the guild and the latest gossip. With the amount of participants in every time zone, dozens of individual narratives emerge, creating a mix of faction and interpersonal politics within the guild.

Other limitations are instated, such as the ability to trade materials and crafted items exclusively with one another. This had been an issue with OnlyFangs’ first attempt at Hardcore, with several members of OTK avoiding any direct repercussions for their reckless deaths as their followers floated them valuable items to gear up for follow-up runs after losing everything before.

Cooperation is essential to survive, as World of Warcraft in its earliest iterations relied on players to party up to complete quests and successfully run dungeons to obtain valuable gear. This allows for organic relationships between characters to form, and through the use of in-game proximity voice chat, which allows players to hear each other by getting physically close in virtual space, viewers become familiar with characters through the sound of their voice.

As the campaign evolves, each streamer’s specific schtick provides a different lens into the guild’s daily happenings. Watching PirateSoftware offers viewers a glimpse into the politicking and bickering over who would become the de facto Warchief for the Trolls. Dropping into Sequisha’s stream gives a taste of the mundane, slice of life roleplaying the Undead faction engaged in. But this is World of Warcraft, and the world of Azeroth isn’t always kind of filled with the most charitable characters.

The drama begins

Early on, one event had already rocked the guild, as Sodapoppin announced that Sequisha had been caught cheating by breaking a cardinal rule. In order to create more inventory space for items he didn’t have room for, Sequisha abused the in-game auction house to store items. This was strictly prohibited, and due to the nature of his crime, he would be sentenced to trial by combat. The guild was abuzz with Trolls, Orcs, Tauren, and Undead sprinting to the Gurubashi arena to watch Sequisha fight for his life. If he could last a total of twenty minutes, killing anyone who entered the arena in honorable one-versus-one combat , he would be allowed to live. It seemed as though Sequisha would be given a second chance, that is, until he met defeat at the hands of another guild member, and all over the sum of 20 gold.

After Sequisha’s cheating, and the chaos that followed in his subsequent execution, the Undead mostly kept to their own. Because of how severe the punishment was, there was division within the guild and tense arguments that occurred on stream both in and out of character. But as the drama snowballed, streamers only leaned deeper into their characters. Esfand (co-founder of OTK, playing a Tauren) began donning a mask during streams to fully immerse viewers into the character he was playing: a giant bipedal cow. Others even put on accents; in the case of Hubert, the Queen’s English to denote that he is of “higher intellect” and more cultured than his Orc brethren.

Despite the absurdity of watching a streamer try to navigate through dungeons and forests with a cow’s head pulled over his face, it shows a level of dedication to roleplaying that makes the OnlyFangs universe so enthralling. Its constant chaos becomes addictive to watch, like high fantasy reality TV.

Although there weren’t any more executions, OTK’s Mizkif had been banished from his group and was temporarily left to fend for himself, leading to a near daily cycle of deaths and restarts. Hubert began gifting his fellow Orc with temporary intellect, which nearly caused an uprising amongst his clansmen.

However, as the event stretched on, streamers began to drop like flies. Larxa, who had never played World of Warcraft before, was determined to become the first to reach level 60 without having any real experience with the game. While roaming through The Barrens, a vast field of grass littered with hostile creatures, she stumbled upon a patrol of centaurs, and run down and killed. Reaching the end would require perseverance and dedication — which she showed by jumping back into the saddle for a second attempt weeks later.

While some members of OnlyFangs have reached level 60 as of reporting, none have tackled Molten Core, and for good reason. PirateSoftware describes the gauntlet of World of Warcraft Hardcore as more or less a test of knowledge. Those familiar with the game will no doubt have the edge over others who have never experienced these dungeons as they existed in the early days of the game. OnlyFangs has had to wait until enough players hit level 60, armed with better equipment, before tackling the final challenge. Without proper education and preparation,  the number of possible deaths that could occur might set the entire guild back another series of weeks, or even a month.

The harsh reality of their task has pushed more streamers to help each other, easing previous tensions as alchemists created potions as temporary salves for wounds sustained in dungeon expeditions, weavers made cloth armor for healers and valuable bags to store items. It’s now understood that if OnlyFangs wanted to reach the end, they’ll need to do it together.

Why you should be watching

What has been most surprising is the insistence of specific streamers to continue the long and hard road to level 60. Since the beginning of the event, World of Warcraft has remained within the top five games watched on Twitch, even with the release of highly anticipated titles like Path of Exile 2 and Marvel Rivals. While this doesn’t necessarily translate to the amount of players in the MMORPG, it’s been riveting to watch how a nearly two decade old game has been rejuvenated by a simple server launch. As online celebrity-filled guilds like OnlyFangs continue to stretch the storytelling potential of World of Warcraft’s toolkit, the emergent drama and likelihood of ridiculous moments has become a massive draw.

For fans of World of Warcraft, there’s a clear upside as the game’s renewed popularity ensures its ongoing survival. With current viewership on Twitch rivaling that of a big new release or a massive content update for the free-to-play flavor of the week, Blizzard are bound to be paying attention in ways that will reflect future content for the game. For streamers, it’s a boon, as the living world of online roleplay makes for easy hours filled with content for their followers. And even for the more casual, the silent observer who knows nothing about World of Warcraft or each content creator’s persona, the interpersonal drama is enough to keep them coming back for more.

Throughout my time watching, I’ve lovingly called these streams “my soaps.” Like any good TV show or online trends, what OnlyFangs is doing comes with a dash of FOMO; you simply have to be there. The emergent roleplay aspects and big names may be replicated, but it won’t be the same. There’s a special kind of in-the-moment urgency that comes with seeing a livestream trend rise in real-time.

After all, it’s not every day you tune into Twitch for a public execution.