Jack discusses the trials and tribulations experienced in the MMO, “Rust”.
A good friend informed me that recently my articles have been fairly negative or a little depressing. I thought this was interesting because that’s not really how I feel about the industry or games I write about.
So, with this piece I hope to be a little more optimistic, a little more positive, and a little less doom and gloom. That said, Rust has robbed me of all hope and love I had for humanity (which was minimal at best to begin with).
On the surface of this giant post-apocalyptic island upon which your caveman character is spontaneously birthed from the land, resources are sparse. Players are forced into competition over the smallest supply cache or wandering chicken.The world is large but not so large that you can avoid the 100 to 200 other players who share the sever you inhabit. The world is persistent (at least until the devs wipe the sever) so anything anyone builds or collects stays in the world for other players to raid.
The constant threat of starvation and wild animals will keep you moving or holed-up in a shack of your own construction. This will bring you into constant contention with those inhabiting the hills around you or the roaming raiders.
More often than not though, you’ll be shot in the head before you even know there is someone in sight. To stay ahead of the competition you must be the meanest survivor out there. The problem is, when everyone thinks that way, everyone is kind of an a-hole. It is among these nomads and homebodies that you will find the worst humanity has to offer. If you’re lucky, when you encounter someone you will both display your strongest weapons, neither person will make the first move and both will back away slowly.
I’d like to believe I am the better man but I have been the desperate raider on the other side of the heavy rock more than once. I was starving and cold and the sun had just sunk below the horizon. I watched the surrounding hills for signs of life.
Campfires and torches flickered to life as people began cooking food or stumbling around in the dark. I picked a point of light that had remained stationary for a few minutes as that was the most likely spot to find food and supplies in one fell-swoop.
Having lost all means of orientation, I soon found myself huddled against a nearby rock, awaiting my own destruction at the hands of these monsters running in the night or my own starvation. These other players would not grant me the satisfaction of choice.I approached the dark structure lit by a single small fire. I crouched down, making as little noise as possible as I grew nearer. At almost exactly the point at which I assumed that anyone within the structure would hear my small rustling, the fire went out.
I was struck violently in the back by a rock and the player prepared for another strike as I jumped up and sprinted around the large stone where I sought refuge. Due to the darkness of the night, my adversaries had just as hard a time seeing me as I did them.
I ran. Bleeding, starving, my only hope was that the players stopped their chase but death was still swiftly gaining. I died shortly after. I was able to stop the bleeding with a bandage salvaged from a dead player but the starvation put me down before morning.Unfortunately, teamwork almost always prevails. The other player mounted the boulder I had hidden against and lit a torch. The area was illuminated and I was exposed. He dropped his torch and promptly shot me in the chest with his 9mm gun.
I am the monster in the night. I am the desperate raider. I am the terrified resident of a barely defensible home. Rust has made me think differently about my fellow humans and myself. It is for stories like these that I will keep coming back to it.I lost all supplies and anything I carried on my character and was released into the world again to try my luck. Rust showed me that in desperation, people are capable of anything.