What Happens When Digital Cities Are Abandoned?
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I still get goosebumps when I think about the impact that community had on my life.
MUDs tended to be free to play and were run by unix hippies. The line between playing and coders was thin and easily crossed; playing the game led almost inevitably to understanding the mechanics and becoming a coder. I feel sorry for today's generation of gamers, since there is a much larger wall between playing and creating these days. CodeCombat and others are trying to bring that link between gaming and programming back - good for them.
I wish MUDs would have done better because interactive text games would provide much needed variety for brains that the currently graphics dominated games.
Sometimes that wall isn't as high as it seems and as long as people know that, they can still break in.
For example, Minecraft (which is mentioned in another comment) has a pretty good ecosystem of mods and plugins that you can look at the raw code for, twiddle with, change, etc. I could easily see kids learning from that the same way I learned from screwing with ROM.
It seems like the big developers are willing to a degree (HUD coding, add-ons, interface wrappers) but not direct creation of content. Admittedly, its a lot of modularity and tools you'd need to both build into the main game, and find a way to make intuitively accessible to your players. But, that would probably drive some neat language development as well, since you'd either need to require they learn something like Lua or Python, or develop a very smooth way to write valid in-game code.
If you open up everything for players to code with, you need the devs to vet it, else you open up people creating exploits, opening up, say, tier 9 equipment for defeating a tier 1 level boss, or similar, and players may vote to allow such things even though it would lessen their enjoyment, and break the longevity of the game (thereby also reducing subscription profits).
Now, create a sandbox server, allow limited betas of content (so as to avoid everyone already being familiar with it if you adopt it), give the players a place to give feedback, but leave it to the devs to ensure it's balanced, the lore is consistent, etc, and you're onto something; that would be really cool.
About a year ago, an old friend contacted us and let us know he was playing again. We contacted friends, and they contacted friends, and now we've got a bunch of us back together -- playing every day, even going to a LAN party this week.
Part of what's interesting is that some of the major sites that didn't survive have sort-of but not entirely lived on in new incarnations. The new competitive ladder is based around some of the same principles as the old one, but with some influences from newer games as well (like a Starcraft2-style tier system that ranks players as gold, silver, or bronze.)
If you remember Descent fondly, come join us: http://descentchampions.org/new_player.php (includes links to many of the still-active sites and groups.)
At that time (shortly before the internet became known and the eternal September started), muds were this magical place where the NPCs I'd imagined in all the text adventures I played suddenly became real people, connected from some other computer lab somewhere. That was the point that I had no doubt the internet was going to be huge.
My experience with Second Life was very different. I worked for a company providing software for libraries. When libraries were build SL versions, something felt wrong about it. Why would somebody want to escape the real world to find...the real world?
I think the directions to the main areas will be burned into my memory forever. On this MUD, when you reached level 20 (which took around a week) you had a choice to make your character "eternal" and continue adventuring or you could choose to make your character a "wizard" who could create new areas yourself and write scripted actions for your area. However, you could no longer take part in the actual game itself. Scripting the areas I had created was some of the first programming experience I ever had.
A big difference between most of the games today that I play and some of those old MUDs was that there were very serious consequences to dying. You lost a level and all your gear if you died and it was extremely easy to die in the game, both from NPCs or other players in certain zones. Dropping from say, level 28 to 27 represented a solid week of hard leveling effort that was lost. I remember I died 3 times in one evening and almost wanting to cry I was so upset. It did make the game that much more intense though because the stakes were so high.
I still login occasionally but it is rare to see more than a few players who aren't idle. I remember that the quality of the community was very high. I don't know if it was because there was a relatively high bar to join and interact with the game that self-selected those kinds of people or what. You had to have the technical chops to connect to the internet, download and install a MUD client and then connect to the appropriate server. Then to be successful at the game itself you had to have a lot of patience, have a good memory and be able to read and react quickly.
It's a shame how modern games don't even come close to the amount of immersion simple text-based games offer. Even popular MMOs don't even scratch the surface on the amount of connection I felt towards these universes. It's a she that they're not as popular.
There might be an archive of the database. I don't know. There's been some talk of an unofficial panel at an upcoming convention, where a few key players/admins would share stories with younger folks in our community for whom this place is a bit of a legend. Feels weird to think about it.
One of my own characters from there is now the mascot of my publishing company. These things stay with you as your personal mythologies.
MUDs are generally so low-maintenance that we kind of wanted to bring it back as a preserve or a museum -- somewhere we could go when we were feeling nostalgic.
Weird reading the Twitter account and recognizing the names of people who were active when I played a decade ago.
The indications of abandonment is usually its grandeur and emptiness along with the signs advertising events long past.
I vaguely wonder what happened to it.
MUDs were also how I got into IRC.
Apparently it got overrun with terrible people before it went away. It used to be so fun just building things. :(
Nobody knows you're twelve years old in a virtual world. I think at one point I was head of the city's night club.
There are still copies of Blaxxun Community Server out there[1], so it would be great if someone could get their hands on the original world files somehow. I also tracked down the source code for an early version of the Blaxxun Contact browser plugin and uploaded it to GitHub[2]. Unfortunately, it's old enough that it doesn't include any of the community features.
[1]: https://code.google.com/p/multi-user-worlds/downloads/detail...
Words FTW :)