A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away...
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A good friend of mine messages me in MSN the other day.
"So I get this invite from someone I know in Narfell [doesn't name the person] and I remember you used to play there. So could you tell me about it? Is it worth my time?"
I had to tell her that it's been so long, and the server has undergone so many changes that I didn't know for sure. I knew that some of the people I'd once played with (or, more accurately, around) were now DM's and PG's and Admins. I knew that Narfell was still around after nearly 7 years, and that alone speaks well for the server. I told her that my memories were mostly positive and that it likely could only have gotten better
My curiosity was piqued. The server that had once been both cocaine and kryptonite to me had long outlasted my absence, and I had gone adrift. Through a few other servers, a few promising but none with the impact and life-altering excellence that had been my Narfell experience.
I stared Narfell on version 3.5. There were, maybe, six or seven areas outside of the dungeons themselves. The bandits in the Nars Pass wore black. The goblins didn't have a cave home. Misty hadn't been born. That cranky-ass farmer with the rat problem was around, though. There were a few other players - I think 20 or so that would come in from time to time. Kanen hadn't come on yet. Dragar wouldn't make his appearance for another year. Crucible was still a PC.
I finalized my first character with Karli. Norwick was a one-whore town and Karli was that whore. Introducing sex to Narfell got me a lot of attention and some of it wasn't good. Masume wasn't pleased, I think, and after a while it became apparent why: Narfell soon became a borderline social server. I branched out into other avenues of RP to escape the bandwagon of f**king for a while.
Salina started as a simple rogue assassin on asylum from the law back in whatever-town. My plan was to start a black market, but by that time Narfell had grown in size and population, and Masume had already introduced a thieve's market (still present, I see!). She started dying alot, and I asked myself, "Self? How many times can someone die before it starts to take a toll on their psyche?" Salina eventually degenerated into a complete psychopath and tried to unite the bad-guy factions.
There were some major plots going on, though most of them involved only a select few groups based on classes, the paladins, druids and rangers coming to mind. With over 2500 registered players at the time and a cap of 48 players allowed on the server, most nights were spent crashing the server and waiting for it to come back online. Then there was the mad lemming-rush for the lobby as everyone would log back in at once, with hundreds of people competing for those few precious player slots. Stories were difficult to keep continguous over a single night, let alone weeks or months.
A junkie moves through life in a state of abnormalcy, and only the sweetness of his addiction can make him feel right and whole again. Narfell was my heroin, my cocaine and my slim hidden flask of Scotch in the bottom drawer. The disconnection was painful, and quitting cigarettes was easier than leaving this place. The sensation of tearing was nearly physical, and it left scars. But the sweet memories of the first chapters and the glory of the tales that were spawned in this place are beyond price.
Karli's addiction to the pixie dust and the narcotic-induced discovery of her inner talents. Selling her body for 50 gold a shot, and finding both love and abuse, unable to tell the difference. Her ascent from back-alley Norwick whore to a lady of Peltarch, beloved of Sune the Love Goddess, with her own sumptuous boudoir in the basement of the Peltarch theatre. Her marriage to Steven, a feral ranger, and their twins. That time she killed a goblin with magic lightening when she flashed her tits at it…
Salina's first attempts to become a meaningful - if shady - member of Norwick society, even working for the militia for a while. Death bringing her to the Abyss, and face to face with the essence of evil: herself. Resurrection, time and again, each time making her more and more the incarnation of her own damnation. The whore, slaughtered in the name of Helm as the last, lingering remnants of her humanity attempted to find redemption. Giving Raz the one-fingered salute as the red dragon, her old enemy, finally killed her.
Frolly's love for a half-orc paladin who, in the end, turned his back upon her for her inability to be all that he required of a friend.
The particular memories fade and flash, strobed by my imperfect recollection through a fog of years. Since I left, my son has grown and I've had another. I've moved three times, bought two cats then lost one. My grandfather died and my husband has achieved his career ambitions. And myself? I'm still the wanderer, the teller of tales and the singer of other people's successes. I started my journeys into the delerium and delight that is Narfell as a bard, and I think my life has ever reflected that essence.
Narfell has changed owners, admins, and players but it remains true to its core. I've enjoyed my visit immensely. I've loved the changes as I've loved the things that have stayed the same. Misty...sweet Misty...the Boar'shead Tavern wouldn't be the same without your constant harrasment.
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@04220dffa2=Callilepis:
Misty…sweet Misty...the Boar'shead Tavern wouldn't be the same without your constant harrasment.
Misty's gone!? I hadn't even been inside the Boarshead to notice.
Commoner: Yes
Commoner: No
Commoner: Yes
Commoner: No
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@2a7ebbe374:
Giving Raz the one-fingered salute as the red dragon, her old enemy, finally killed her.
I witnessed that moment. It was stunning, and after Rass gobbled up the crispy remains of Salina it was one of the only moments Anakore has ever been afraid (OOCly I was crapping my pants at that very moment). He dropped all his gold and ran like hell when he got the chance.
