The life cycle of a successful massively multiplayer online game, like any breakout offline or single-player game, always follows the same trajectory: It grabs some headlines, eventually gets oversaturated, maybe gets parodied by South Park, and then eventually fades from the mainstream's point of view. Unlike offline or single-player games, online and MMO titles have a built-in shelf life. Sooner or later, they're getting ink in gaming mags or blogs again -- but this time, it's because their servers are getting turned off. And with that, an entire world vanishes for all eternity, when it was there just a moment before. In Abandoned Ware, one gamer becomes a field reporter for these once-huge MMOs, before the inevitable eradicates them forever.



The Land Time Forgot, Remembered, Then Forgot

When I started this column, I knew it was only a matter of time before I looked up Ultima Online, the world's first mainstream MMO. Though I've only been peripherally aware of it at best, it started in 1997, and it's still around. Over the following 14 years, the game underwent a lot of tweaks; at some point, a band of fans lashed out against all the changes, and launched their own free server (called In Por Ylem) in an effort to wind the clock black to UO's earliest incarnations. Sounds to me like a place for the hardest of the hardcore. What an exciting opportunity to jump in and see what's going on, right?

Now, of course, I'm a good 14 years late to the party, and expected something of a learning curve when my balding warrior, Frasier Crane, spawned outside the Sweet Dreams Inn. But nothing could prepare me for how lost and alone I instantly felt. IPY truly recalls some old-school gaming philosophies: You press start, and you're thrown right in. Only, I had no clue where to go or what to do. I wandered a bit south and found a character named Osama Bin Laden; he wasn't moving, just standing still. As I plumbed IPY's depths, I later learned that whenever someone is holding still like this, they're likely macroing, or running scripts that allow them to sidestep grinding. Leveling is more akin to Quest for Glory, where you gain experience by actually applying the appropriate skills. Want to get stronger? You've gotta fight, chop trees, or mine ore. Want to get smarter? You should tame wild animals. OK, so it doesn't totally make sense... but it's pretty nifty, nonetheless.


I wandered further south, eager to connect with my fellow adventurers, and came upon a fisherman. I attempted to spark up a conversation but instead was informed about my mother's body odor.

"Fishing?" I asked.

"Yeah and all the fish smell like your mom. I'm going to ignore you now, so f*** off."

I came to IPY seeking some of the most devoted gamers around, and instead, found the common Internet troll. I explored some more, and saw stationary mages uttering only the word "guards" over and over. Was I in trouble for something? I ran away, confused.

UO seemed more like a giant IRC chat room than a full-fledged game. Fortunately, after an hour of walking around, I came upon some folks who were more talkative. I told them I was new, and they all said, "LOL." After the cackles subsided, they advised me to hit up the forums.


I naively asked if anyone could show me the ropes or at least point me in the right direction. I felt like a tourist. They explained everyone was too busy grinding, and that IPY was too complicated to explain in a brief chat. "You've got a lot to learn. You need help," one guy said before teleporting away.

Another guy got a little more specific. "There are a lot of jerks on this server," he told me. "Don't get discouraged. My advice to you." I asked him what he usually does in IPY; he kills the jerks, he explained. Before he left, he gave one last piece of chilling advice: "When you're out of town, if you don't know a person, don't trust 'em. Most likely, they want to kill you and take your stuff." Suddenly, IPY went from "intimidatingly uneventful" to "dangerously intimidating." Leaving town sounded like setting foot in the Old West, and that's pretty thrilling. So I suited up for battle, climbed down into the sewers, and promptly got killed by a rat. Those guys were right -- I needed help.