Ultima Online

This rags-to-riches mindset isn't necessary now that UO's wearing kid gloves, though: I can just find the nearest moongate, teleport back to New Haven, and be greeted by twelve eager NPCs, each wanting to give me 500 gold just so I can hold their hands on the way to the shops. I suppose that's a good thing, and I suppose I probably hate myself. But there's definitely something disarmingly friendly about UO now, and it's only emphasised by the smaller userbase.

In addition to the cash-fat NPCs in New Haven, you'll find hundreds of useful - sometimes even rare and expensive - items literally carpeting the ground outside the bank. You'll also see multicoloured recall (teleport) runes lying around. Disappointment struck when I realised every single one led to a player vendor desperate for my business - whose wares, unfortunately, were all out of my price range. They ended up coming in useful, though, because many of the vendors were near moongates and/or dungeons.

Now that the peril of long-distance travel has been nigh-on obliterated by the runes, though, a new danger has emerged: more vendors. Making my way to Despise to find my wayward comrades, I was solicited by a charming, garishly-attired fellow we'll call Jobriath.

"i see youre new," he said. "Yes," I responded. "come with me, i want to show you something," he typed.

Now, in the UO golden age - before all the expansions, before the world was split into the hugely popular carebear consensual-PVP-only Trammel, and the abandoned wilderness of Felucca - this would have been the point where I'd naively have followed him to a secluded patch of forest where he and his black-hearted pals would rip me to shreds, take all my equipment, and then carve up my body for food. Eager for some reportage, I followed him, wondering what fiendishly clever means he'd devised to kill me without needing my approval. We came to a house. His house, I discovered, by checking the sign. I was pounding the screenshot key with every heartbeat.

"what do you think?" he asked. "i had a vendor here," he continued, "and a library, but it was hard for folks to get to."

His friend, riding a giant ostrich, appeared. Finally, I thought. Go time.

"so i think i'll put the library here on the top floor," Jobriath added, "and the vendor on the bottom. we sell runebooks and armor. real cheap."

I took the weird speech breaks to signify he was privately communicating with his accomplice; that they were coordinating the plan so that I, examining his precious top floor, would find myself teleported to the most dangerous part of Despise. Or something.

His friend finally spoke. "yeah its good," he said, "cuz you can jump off the ledge. easy access." "yeah," Jobriath concurred.

I could see this wasn't going as planned, so I decided to recall out of there. Recall is great, because it's instantaneous and saves you from all the awkward formalities like, "Goodbye" and, "I don't really care about your library."

"Sanctum Viatas," the spell said. "Sanctum Viatas," it repeated. "hey where you going man," Jobriath inquired. I couldn't help but see him crying.

"Sanctum Viatas," the spell intoned again, and I was finally, mercifully whisked off to a different continent - Malas, introduced in the Age of Shadows expansion, when UO was still hot stuff. Upon arriving, though, I was assaulted by the very same thing I'd seen outside Despise, only in technicolour. Houses, ranches, and castles filled every patch of free land, and player-controlled NPC vendors were lined up on every doorstep, clad in bright blues, purples, yellows, and reds, with signs like, CHEAP LRC ARMOR HERE!!!!!! and LIFE LEECH WEAPONS BARN BUY NOW!!!!!! floating above their heads.

I'm sure if I got involved in UO's famously intricate and volatile economy this stuff would be a lot more meaningful, but I don't have Julian Dibbell's patience or book contract, and besides, beyond being a real atmosphere-killer, it actually impedes travel. What were once handy shortcuts have been completely blocked out by houses owned by players. I'd like to say I'd ported into Britannian Vegas, but to do so would be a disservice to the countless other contenders found nearly anywhere where there's dry land. Talk about urban blight.