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Another hyped MMO game bestseller
unlike a series of free conveyor-belt stampouts, this one was paid.
The price was steep even for residents of the capital—8 thousand rubles seemed like a huge sum for an MMORPG, if not for the possibility of getting your money back within a week upon the first unsubstantiated request of the player. You could return it at any moment if you wanted; "Superrbank" provided the guarantee, and the publishing firm "Igoray" was the most famous in our country—though one would have been enough.
I recently sold my old car, so I paid easily, confident that I'd take a look at another stampout, albeit a very arrogant one, and get my money back.
I've played computer games since the appearance of the first ES computers. I made this my main occupation, but there are thousands like me, so money isn't everything )))
You remember the first Matrix; that's how I appeared in this game, only I had to climb down from a column on my own via stairs and there were no holes in me; below was a glowing line of arrows running in one direction—without it, one could wander through this metropolis for a long time. In just a minute, I saw a rectangular shimmering entrance portal.
When I entered the portal, I was offered to choose my hero. There were no elves, orcs, or dwarves; rather, they were among 900 different races—some were familiar from hundreds of the best games and books, there were also about 12 human races, intelligent horses, and ponies. One could spend a whole week studying racial pros and cons. A very interesting feature turned out to be the possible mutation from one race to another under certain game conditions. Some specimens even had a racial bonus that facilitated such a transformation. In general, the possibilities for transforming your character were limitless. Thanks to linking accounts to identity documents, cheats and bots were excluded; otherwise, the game would have ended before it began. I imagine such a super-mutant with the bonuses of all races.
The starting location was called Worm Mountain.
It was a huge mountain a kilometer high, partially forested, with a deep lake at its rocky cliff where the mountain went another 500 meters underwater and then another 500 meters below that was a Dungeon under the mountain and the lake. The entire mountain was riddled with a thousand caves and mine drifts; some caves could be accessed underwater from the lake. Players were offered unlimited time to explore the location, developing their character, learning the game, and filling their inventory. The world lived its own life. There were individual creatures and entire colonies of underground monsters. There were intelligent computer characters who could help with general information, trade, or teach a class skill. All creatures were permanently mortal. As soon as I stepped out of the portal, a naga player flew past me in his signature leap, running away from two raccoons. The raccoons were very indignant about something. I wanted to help the player, but suddenly pink letters floated before my eyes: "You do not wish to do this," and I couldn't hit the raccoon, nor did they pay attention to me. This was a manifestation of "World Harmony," one of the higher laws of this world. But if the naga had accepted me into his party—if I had asked—I could have helped him. The naga ran with those raccoons for another hour, even jumping into the lake, but the raccoons didn't let up. Later, I met those raccoons smeared in the green blood of an unlucky player, while he himself was torn to pieces and scattered on the shore of the lake.
The death of a player was a serious incident. The player themselves could not play as their character for 2 hours, but they could play as the creature that killed them or wander as a bodiless spirit, which appeared immediately at the moment of death; the naga could see how his body was being torn apart by raccoons and scattered along the shore and could manage to possess one of them. Players could not kill each other, possibly only in this first location.
Worm Mountain was quite gentle with serpentines and other ways to climb to the top, plus every player had mountaineering equipment. So a whole week, or even a month, could easily be spent exploring caves and drifts. "To hell with those 8 thousand," I thought when I climbed into a lonely little cave at an altitude of 600 meters; buffeted by a strong whistling wind, it became clear that a week wouldn't be enough for this game. The entrance, in the shape of the letter L, 2 meters high and 1 meter wide, was overgrown with some kind of rocky ivy, so I just happened upon it on my way to the summit when I decided to take a shortcut between the kilometer-long roads and paths that wound around the entire mountain like a spiral. I only had to overcome 100 meters along a steep slope, and about halfway through, I noticed this L-shaped crevice. There were no detailed descriptions of the world or guides yet, so I crawled into the unknown. The only thing I understood from the race descriptions was that the world was magical-physical-cosmic and temporal.
But for now, there was an unknown cave before me, and judging by my experience, I could find various game perks in it. My character was a man—a human inventor. I knew how to fire a short pump-action double-barrel shotgun with wide bores. The shot was produced by an unlimited magical charge, but to load both barrels at once, one had to apply strength and time to pump the gun like a pneumatic rifle.
One could shoot without cartridges simply by pumping the barrel and loading buckshot, and make buckshot from various materials, including small rock chips. I also had a short wide sword, a backpack with food supplies, and a sleeping bag. In short, I went inside, using the light of a flashlight built into my mountaineering helmet with an infinite charge..............................................
To be continued
You can Google "The Room" on YouTube or even download the game. Watch or play it, then you'll understand my excitement when, 50 meters from the entrance, I discovered a large hall and in it four doors with dozens of keyholes of all sizes and very unusual patterns across the entire surface. Each of the doors was a work of art. To open such a door, one had to solve about thirty puzzles involving secret buttons and hidden sliding panels.
This was my personal entrance into a unique adventure. No one but me could discover this cave. Such an opportunity was given to all players, and everyone could find their own entrance, but always in an unexpected place. The hall was square: one door ahead, one to the left, then to the right, and one in the floor. I turned off the flashlight because the hall was brightly lit by a dozen hidden lamps. Transcendent psychedelia was playing. Precious stones and metals sparkled as the viewing angle changed. I decided to deal with the bottom door. After three hours of game-induced oblivion, I realized I needed help and created a thread on the game forum. There were more than a thousand such threads, but the exchange of ideas yielded results. And some wunderkind was going through all the threads giving valuable advice. How did I not figure it out myself? The solution was simple; I was probably just tired of playing. Anyway, finding the last keys in hidden niches, I opened the door by following the correct combination of turns. To a tenderly menacing melody, the door opened with several petals like a beautiful golden flower, then the petals folded to the sides and a marble staircase leading down opened before me.
One could go through their adventure alone or call other players, but only if they were invited into one's group. You could even enter as a whole raid or even a top of 100 players. Was there any point? Judging by the game forum, all adventures were unique, just like the doors with their puzzles; this was handled by game generators.
Perhaps there were some testers—after all, the game cost quite a bit. Strong creatures guarding treasuries could be encountered in an adventure, and not every raid would be able to cope, especially since there were many beginners in this location. But unlimited time and opportunities for rapid character development gave a chance to complete one's adventure alone, even if it required playing for 2-3 months. There were players who simply sold spots in their group for a personal unique adventure—they sold them for real money.
While the game was so popular, you could get your 8 thousand back and even earn as much more, although you'd be left without unique items, mysterious maps, wonderful materials, books with new knowledge for further play, and most importantly—what people paid for—every "unique" contained a prediction for the next unique entrance in the next game location. This was the key to the next unique. That is, for some miserable 15-20 thousand, you had to sell your game character's soul. You could create a new one for 8 thousand, but the queue of people wanting to get into the game was already 2 months long and only growing.
I descended into the Dungeon. The marble staircase hugged the wall on the left, lit by a series of lamps, while on the right beyond the railings was an abyss, and against a backdrop of heroic choral a cappella, howls, screeches, and terrible half-moans/half-growls echoed from the depths. Eh, I should have taken someone with me without loot rights; many did that to complete their adventures faster, forming a group and taking turns going through uniques without loot rights. There were, of course, one-player mercenaries, as well as those wishing to buy an adventure where the owner of the unique would go through without loot rights. The trading system in the game was based on irrevocable letters of credit and intermediaries from the administration; that is, players could not cheat each other. Fair trade. This was another higher law of this world. Of course, tricksters found their own lucrative niche for fraud here too, but only in risky deals where the victim-player was immediately warned about the risk of being cheated. The black market was not legal, but legalized de facto.
I went solo. The stairs descended another 200 meters and led to a branching platform with four entrances. To the right and left were horizontal corridors; straight ahead was a staircase up and another staircase down. "It would be interesting to reach the lower boundary of the location like in Minecraft," I thought, and went down. I'm used to doing everything thoroughly..................................................
After going about a hundred meters down, I emerged into a large cavern hall where a guard stood. A black giant resembling a human, only four-armed—the front pair of arms was much smaller, like a T-Rex's, growing not from the shoulders but from the chest. However, huge hairy black arms grew from the shoulders, very long, with a sword in each. The front arms supported a tower shield resting on the ground. Above the iron grated gates, it said "Slave Market." The gated doors opened, letting me inside. A modern directory-guide with an LCD monitor didn't quite fit the overall picture, but it was very convenient.
The Slave Market belonged to extra-dimensional locations common to many different unique adventures. It was in some uniques, while others had different same-type common locations; for example, I also knew about the Embassy of Hell. I think there were many such locs. But each unique had its own set. Entrepreneur players listed such locations in their advertisements for their unique, along with inhabitants and prizes.
Rumors circulated that free accounts might be introduced, without unique adventures.
Perhaps specifically to replenish the ranks of artificial creatures with living human players. That is, instead of bosses, mounts, slaves, demons, and other laborers of the game world, players would be used. Although many are ready to pay to roleplay some NPC.
unlike a series of free conveyor-belt stampouts, this one was paid.
The price was steep even for residents of the capital—8 thousand rubles seemed like a huge sum for an MMORPG, if not for the possibility of getting your money back within a week upon the first unsubstantiated request of the player. You could return it at any moment if you wanted; "Superrbank" provided the guarantee, and the publishing firm "Igoray" was the most famous in our country—though one would have been enough.
I recently sold my old car, so I paid easily, confident that I'd take a look at another stampout, albeit a very arrogant one, and get my money back.
I've played computer games since the appearance of the first ES computers. I made this my main occupation, but there are thousands like me, so money isn't everything )))
You remember the first Matrix; that's how I appeared in this game, only I had to climb down from a column on my own via stairs and there were no holes in me; below was a glowing line of arrows running in one direction—without it, one could wander through this metropolis for a long time. In just a minute, I saw a rectangular shimmering entrance portal.
When I entered the portal, I was offered to choose my hero. There were no elves, orcs, or dwarves; rather, they were among 900 different races—some were familiar from hundreds of the best games and books, there were also about 12 human races, intelligent horses, and ponies. One could spend a whole week studying racial pros and cons. A very interesting feature turned out to be the possible mutation from one race to another under certain game conditions. Some specimens even had a racial bonus that facilitated such a transformation. In general, the possibilities for transforming your character were limitless. Thanks to linking accounts to identity documents, cheats and bots were excluded; otherwise, the game would have ended before it began. I imagine such a super-mutant with the bonuses of all races.
The starting location was called Worm Mountain.
It was a huge mountain a kilometer high, partially forested, with a deep lake at its rocky cliff where the mountain went another 500 meters underwater and then another 500 meters below that was a Dungeon under the mountain and the lake. The entire mountain was riddled with a thousand caves and mine drifts; some caves could be accessed underwater from the lake. Players were offered unlimited time to explore the location, developing their character, learning the game, and filling their inventory. The world lived its own life. There were individual creatures and entire colonies of underground monsters. There were intelligent computer characters who could help with general information, trade, or teach a class skill. All creatures were permanently mortal. As soon as I stepped out of the portal, a naga player flew past me in his signature leap, running away from two raccoons. The raccoons were very indignant about something. I wanted to help the player, but suddenly pink letters floated before my eyes: "You do not wish to do this," and I couldn't hit the raccoon, nor did they pay attention to me. This was a manifestation of "World Harmony," one of the higher laws of this world. But if the naga had accepted me into his party—if I had asked—I could have helped him. The naga ran with those raccoons for another hour, even jumping into the lake, but the raccoons didn't let up. Later, I met those raccoons smeared in the green blood of an unlucky player, while he himself was torn to pieces and scattered on the shore of the lake.
The death of a player was a serious incident. The player themselves could not play as their character for 2 hours, but they could play as the creature that killed them or wander as a bodiless spirit, which appeared immediately at the moment of death; the naga could see how his body was being torn apart by raccoons and scattered along the shore and could manage to possess one of them. Players could not kill each other, possibly only in this first location.
Worm Mountain was quite gentle with serpentines and other ways to climb to the top, plus every player had mountaineering equipment. So a whole week, or even a month, could easily be spent exploring caves and drifts. "To hell with those 8 thousand," I thought when I climbed into a lonely little cave at an altitude of 600 meters; buffeted by a strong whistling wind, it became clear that a week wouldn't be enough for this game. The entrance, in the shape of the letter L, 2 meters high and 1 meter wide, was overgrown with some kind of rocky ivy, so I just happened upon it on my way to the summit when I decided to take a shortcut between the kilometer-long roads and paths that wound around the entire mountain like a spiral. I only had to overcome 100 meters along a steep slope, and about halfway through, I noticed this L-shaped crevice. There were no detailed descriptions of the world or guides yet, so I crawled into the unknown. The only thing I understood from the race descriptions was that the world was magical-physical-cosmic and temporal.
But for now, there was an unknown cave before me, and judging by my experience, I could find various game perks in it. My character was a man—a human inventor. I knew how to fire a short pump-action double-barrel shotgun with wide bores. The shot was produced by an unlimited magical charge, but to load both barrels at once, one had to apply strength and time to pump the gun like a pneumatic rifle.
One could shoot without cartridges simply by pumping the barrel and loading buckshot, and make buckshot from various materials, including small rock chips. I also had a short wide sword, a backpack with food supplies, and a sleeping bag. In short, I went inside, using the light of a flashlight built into my mountaineering helmet with an infinite charge..............................................
To be continued
You can Google "The Room" on YouTube or even download the game. Watch or play it, then you'll understand my excitement when, 50 meters from the entrance, I discovered a large hall and in it four doors with dozens of keyholes of all sizes and very unusual patterns across the entire surface. Each of the doors was a work of art. To open such a door, one had to solve about thirty puzzles involving secret buttons and hidden sliding panels.
This was my personal entrance into a unique adventure. No one but me could discover this cave. Such an opportunity was given to all players, and everyone could find their own entrance, but always in an unexpected place. The hall was square: one door ahead, one to the left, then to the right, and one in the floor. I turned off the flashlight because the hall was brightly lit by a dozen hidden lamps. Transcendent psychedelia was playing. Precious stones and metals sparkled as the viewing angle changed. I decided to deal with the bottom door. After three hours of game-induced oblivion, I realized I needed help and created a thread on the game forum. There were more than a thousand such threads, but the exchange of ideas yielded results. And some wunderkind was going through all the threads giving valuable advice. How did I not figure it out myself? The solution was simple; I was probably just tired of playing. Anyway, finding the last keys in hidden niches, I opened the door by following the correct combination of turns. To a tenderly menacing melody, the door opened with several petals like a beautiful golden flower, then the petals folded to the sides and a marble staircase leading down opened before me.
One could go through their adventure alone or call other players, but only if they were invited into one's group. You could even enter as a whole raid or even a top of 100 players. Was there any point? Judging by the game forum, all adventures were unique, just like the doors with their puzzles; this was handled by game generators.
Perhaps there were some testers—after all, the game cost quite a bit. Strong creatures guarding treasuries could be encountered in an adventure, and not every raid would be able to cope, especially since there were many beginners in this location. But unlimited time and opportunities for rapid character development gave a chance to complete one's adventure alone, even if it required playing for 2-3 months. There were players who simply sold spots in their group for a personal unique adventure—they sold them for real money.
While the game was so popular, you could get your 8 thousand back and even earn as much more, although you'd be left without unique items, mysterious maps, wonderful materials, books with new knowledge for further play, and most importantly—what people paid for—every "unique" contained a prediction for the next unique entrance in the next game location. This was the key to the next unique. That is, for some miserable 15-20 thousand, you had to sell your game character's soul. You could create a new one for 8 thousand, but the queue of people wanting to get into the game was already 2 months long and only growing.
I descended into the Dungeon. The marble staircase hugged the wall on the left, lit by a series of lamps, while on the right beyond the railings was an abyss, and against a backdrop of heroic choral a cappella, howls, screeches, and terrible half-moans/half-growls echoed from the depths. Eh, I should have taken someone with me without loot rights; many did that to complete their adventures faster, forming a group and taking turns going through uniques without loot rights. There were, of course, one-player mercenaries, as well as those wishing to buy an adventure where the owner of the unique would go through without loot rights. The trading system in the game was based on irrevocable letters of credit and intermediaries from the administration; that is, players could not cheat each other. Fair trade. This was another higher law of this world. Of course, tricksters found their own lucrative niche for fraud here too, but only in risky deals where the victim-player was immediately warned about the risk of being cheated. The black market was not legal, but legalized de facto.
I went solo. The stairs descended another 200 meters and led to a branching platform with four entrances. To the right and left were horizontal corridors; straight ahead was a staircase up and another staircase down. "It would be interesting to reach the lower boundary of the location like in Minecraft," I thought, and went down. I'm used to doing everything thoroughly..................................................
After going about a hundred meters down, I emerged into a large cavern hall where a guard stood. A black giant resembling a human, only four-armed—the front pair of arms was much smaller, like a T-Rex's, growing not from the shoulders but from the chest. However, huge hairy black arms grew from the shoulders, very long, with a sword in each. The front arms supported a tower shield resting on the ground. Above the iron grated gates, it said "Slave Market." The gated doors opened, letting me inside. A modern directory-guide with an LCD monitor didn't quite fit the overall picture, but it was very convenient.
The Slave Market belonged to extra-dimensional locations common to many different unique adventures. It was in some uniques, while others had different same-type common locations; for example, I also knew about the Embassy of Hell. I think there were many such locs. But each unique had its own set. Entrepreneur players listed such locations in their advertisements for their unique, along with inhabitants and prizes.
Rumors circulated that free accounts might be introduced, without unique adventures.
Perhaps specifically to replenish the ranks of artificial creatures with living human players. That is, instead of bosses, mounts, slaves, demons, and other laborers of the game world, players would be used. Although many are ready to pay to roleplay some NPC.
