'Sit down yonder here youngins', this old man is here to tell ye a tale.

Back in the day, before graphics or the internet, there were computers hosting sites called Bulletin Board Systems (BBS). That’s right young lad, no pictures, no ebay, no myspace, nothing but words! You would use your modem (2400 BPS will do, take that broadband boy) and dial in via telephone line to another computer, usually locally, but if you wished to spend some money to pay for a long distance call, you could dial into any computer around the world.

I discovered these little gems in the early 90's, when I bought my first computer, a 386 PC clone running 15 MHZ clock speed. I think I had 2MB storage. There were all sorts of BBS's at the time ranging from the humorous to the deathly serious (and dull).

As I negotiated this fledgling internet, I came across the noble efforts of a small local group which tried to tie our whole county together through its portal. The site was very basic and there was barely enough content for you to use up the one whole hour per day you were allowed. I volunteered to help and was promptly sent off into the rougher neighbourhoods. Putting all thoughts of personal safety aside I got on with it. I was there to help, to bring possibilities and to open up different avenues for those who didn’t even have a computer, let alone dial-up access. It was at one particular community centre, waiting patiently for people to arrive, when I came across a link to a MUD. Not quite sure what it was, I was signed up with a name, "maibock" in remembrance of a fine brew I had had the night before. I started tapping away, going north and picking up gold and so forth and before I’d really fathomed what was going on I was hooked. It didn’t take me much longer to find a way to circumvent the 1 hour time limit just so I could play longer and more frequently.

MUD's (Multi-User Dungeons) are text based RPG/Adventure games which started early in the history of the internet and still flourish today. Think Everquest or WOW, but in text form. The first one I stumbled on was called "Barren Realms", which much to my surprise and delight, is still running to this day. Ok maybe not as many people participate now, considering the competition of your fancy games with graphics and mice, but it's there with most of the areas to explore left intact...

World of Warcraft, yesterday

Back in the day though, it was wonderful. Adventurers where joining up together to head off to slay dragons in droves. The community spirit here was very much alive and well. Like snuggling up to a good book on a rainy Saturday afternoon, these text adventures would open up to you and more importantly, your imagination. Each area of the MUD was crafted to tell a story of sort and you were the main character dictating where and how things went. Frequently, not always as planned too!

At the start of most adventures you would find yourself in the main square of the main town. One in particular started off, just as such with typical lively banter filling the local chat channel. I was a level 10 druid (never thought I’d hear myself say that in public) a young fledgling awkwardly making his career in the arts of spells and such. A much larger group was getting together to tackle some horrible wretch named Ciquala and the prize of her riches was her sword. Naturally all requests to tag along were denied, but one fellow druid took a liking and agreed that I could follow him, but to "stay out of the way, things get nasty in there, and by all means STAY invisible". Tagging along as the group went from shop to shop stocking up on much needed supplies, I managed to snag a few invisible potions to secure my safety and off we went. We travelled out the west gate and through all the familiar sites I’d normally fight, but knowing not where I was heading, a sense of excitement and apprehension came over me. Quickly passing through uncharted areas, I’d scroll up and took a few glimpses of the descriptions, things were definitely looking more and more glum. The writing seemed more sinister and menacing. Instead of fairly benign descriptions of the "a large tree is here" type which I was used to, now became descriptions of "a foul stench rises up from the wet, black ground you stand on, the darkness overcomes your senses as large trees seem to reach out to grab you" It certainly wasn’t Kansas anymore.

The light, jovial banter from a few minutes ago was now gone. Silence from the group, even the dwarf who was always worth a comment or two, was eerily quiet. Finally, after what seemed like miles of trudging we stood at the mouth of a cave. Maybe I should have started to head back and leave things to the "big boys", but curiosity kept me there. The leader of this particular group was an Avian (some bird creature race) who chose his words wisely when making a plan to tackle this evil lich. To round out the group, there were about 6 or 7 ranging from Humans to Illithids and elves, of course there I was a good 30 levels younger than those present.. Ciquala was said to be a mid 40 level, but the sword, that damn sword, would make her equivalent above fifty. Mind you, 50 was the top level at the time a player could achieve. She was one tough bitch was the consensus.

The plan seemed simple enough, since she could "see invisible", the dwarf, commonly referred to as the tank (high hit points and defense) would enter her lair first to immediately take her attention. The avian would fly in and attack, the druid (not me, my new mentor) would heal the dwarf then switch to offensive hurty spells to the lich. The rest would follow in and use their best attacks they could bring.

Tension could be cut with a level 10 +1DM sword, then the word "GO" was uttered and we were off. In went the dwarf, next the avian and then the druid and since I was following him I was pulled into the mess and then it hit me "she could see invisible?!?" - I wasn't safe. The battle unfolded in front of my eyes. Red words (meaning critical hits) scrolled by so quickly, attacks were fast and furious on both sides, she was fighting a brilliant battle. The words scrolling and scrolling faster and faster until it was announced to all in the realm that the dwarf was DEAD! Oh my! Ciquala began working on the avian as everyone stood true and fought mightily.

Then a funny thing happened. In this MUD you could regenerate you mana quicker if you drank ale. In a fight like this, my druid relied on it (I needed all the help I could get). Unfortunately, there were a couple of side-effects of drinking the ale. One would humorously jumble your words when you chatted, making it almost impossible to communicate, but worse, because you were drunk your movement would randomly not go the way you would want to. You would stumble and go the opposite direction or simply into a wall or floor.

The flagon with the dragon is the brew that is true

As the battle raged on, the party thinned quickly as the group was slowly getting massacred. Eventually it was down to my druid mentor and myself with him taking loses quickly as I watched his hit point dwindle. I tried healing, but of course level 10 was only a drop in the bucket to a level 40. At that moment he yelled, "n Ur!!!"

"n Ur!!!"? What was he saying?

Then we wrote "u !!!rN"

Whatever could he be... oh shit! "RUN!!!!" - too late I had realised that the ale was affecting my hearing.

Just before his hit points ran down, my mentor had exited the room and as I attempted to follow - desperate now to get away - I stumbled and remained in the room. As fate could have it, I had one turn left and struck out with my little level 10 sword, and damned if I didn’t do it. I finished the bitch off to a loud squeal and she laid in front of me, with the rest of the party strewn about the cave.

I gained a few levels that day but more importantly a legend was born. Maibock the Ciquala killer. The party let me keep the sword which I kept for many levels hoping to use one day when I turned level 45. As karma does what fate doesn’t, I lost a backpack in a server backup error which wiped out half of the players’ inventories. C’est La Gere, my sword was lost, but I still had my memories...

So, off you go, young heroes, to your World of Warcrafts, and to your Eve Onlines and to your Everquests. But forget not the tales of those who fought before you, and come sit by my campfire when you return and we’ll raise a flagon to your adventures.

May 2006

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