As the crowd begins to disperse I, an aged gentleman who?s face is weathered with the quests of days gone by, but who?s eye still glistens for new adventure, step to the position previously occupied by Madame Mookie. Breathing deep, I gather my thoughts and slowly begin.
I am a traveler to your beautiful new world, not one of you, but a passerby. I?ve been told I show signs of the affliction of which you speak. Though I rarely have the urge to utter ?OMG, 1337, ubersword, or lvl?,? and I?ve yet to walk up unprovoked to a resident and challenge them to a duel, I do feel this urge to hone my sword wielding capabilities against sewer beasts big and small, as well as summon the occasional magic missile which I?ve conjured using a glyph which I purchased here, after 12 tiresome trips from your town?s dungeon to the local blacksmith, where I sold the ore I mined. Dodging those annoying ankle-biting Clacker critters the whole time, stopping to slaughter one only when I must.
Now, with a wave of the fingers I wait to see if my two silver falchions will be sufficient to cause the demise of the mighty tufa, so that I might gather his teeth. If the Gods are with me, I return to Harnquist to exchange my teeth for tria. Why? So I can study more of the Crystal Way here. If not, do my time in the death realm, only to follow the long winding corridors back to the Arena where I climb countless stairs, all to do it over again. All this I do, so that I might make the missiles I conjure more powerful. I am quite sure it must look like an obsession. Why do I engage in this behavior? Because, glorious as this world is, that is pretty much all there is to do here.
The benevolent Gods have provided us a beautiful world, stocked it with creatures, and given us these mindless drones the locals affectionately call NPCs. The Gods tell us this world is yet incomplete, and teach of the mantra ?Alpha.? But residents of any world need something to do to occupy their time. We have been given mining and creatures that we might toy with. Ah yes, we can walk to the next town and talk to more mindless drones in search of Falka Oil for the librarian?s lantern, in an effort to coerce the Holy Scripts from him that the Priest requires. Trying to carry on a conversation with these senile merchants is as frustrating as mining ore is mind numbing. So I practice with my sword and summon my missiles.
All the while I read the bible provided by the God?s and listen to the editorials of good people like yourself, trying to learn the local customs here. What have I learned? That I am a leaper because I do not yet engage in this past time I read so much about called ?role playing.? I?ve read it is quite fun, and I?ve heard tell that some engage in this past time at the local tavern.
Funny, it is always empty when I pass through. And passing through the local plaza I do not hear great tales of glorious campaigns, but see hordes of bewildered newcomers running about in circles calling out ?Can you help me? I?m new here? as they try to get Harnquist to speak to them, figure out how they might earn a living here, or arm themselves. The only examples of this ?role play? I see is written in the forums by residents who profess to be disgusted by the likes of me.
I also read a horrid tale of a new resident who was cast mute by the Gods for trying to auction his sword by shouting out in the auction channel that he would sell it. The explanation? The God?s don?t want auctions in this world to be like they are in other worlds. So I read my bible, only to find it is silent on the subject. There is guidance for buy items, selling them, and exchanging them, but not auctioning them. Yet this poor man found himself mute for displeasing the Gods.
The Gods spoke to us again recently, proclaiming that we will no longer be able to use the spawn magic to return quickly to the plaza. When I inquired of a local as to when the transportation spoken of by the Gods might be implemented, I was told I was lazy and suffered from a malady she called OOC. I wonder if she knows that often when I run through the lush valley?s of the outer lands I see these visions of ?.5 fps? as I run with legs of rubber, the landscape flashing from mountains to trees, to stalactites. Seconds later I will be told that I?ve fallen and died. So, this stranger suggests that as a newcomer, I learn to walk down slopes, instead of running. Is it so unreasonable that I might inquire about purchasing a winged beast that might fly me back to town when my rubber legs won?t carry me?
So, good people of Yliakum, I ask you, where in this world do you ?role play? that I might join you and learn the ways of this land.
Until you show yourselves, I will content myself with fighting, mining, and wait for the God?s to mercifully implement more ways for us to learn skills and craft items. I?ve been told that I had a bug collection as a child?maybe I?ll go strike up a conversation with the Kran at the library about bugs and herbs in the meantime. Good day to you all.
