Tao of the Hunt
Letters to the editor
- A Shriner
Player Killers Exposed
- Lexley Vaughan
Ethics and Virtual Reality
- Chuck Haeberle
It's Only A Game
You Were Different When You Were A Player!
- Selina Kelley
Role-Play vs. Multi-play
- Brad Smith
Art of Language Independence
- Ben Greer
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Tao of the Hunt
by A Shriner
I enjoy pkilling. While after 20 years of gaming (mostly RPGs) I always
appreciate the game, of course (or why bother playing it), there is
something specific that draws me continuously back to the hunt of another
I'm not going to attempt to play morality games with you and justify what
do . You are mature enough to read this, and I'm sure you can draw your
conclusions. I'm simply going to give you a glimpse into that which you
loathe, despise, and yet, are oddly curious about. All I ask is that as
read with scorn and derision, you ask yourself why you persist in
real-world morality to the gaming world. Are you so desperate in your
beliefs that you cannot accept that part of the fantasy as well?
An ordinary guy.
I'm not evil by nature, certainly not in real life. One thing you have to
careful to do is disassociate the game world from the real. It's a game.
play to role-play, some play to be part of a community, I play to be
enjoy those other aspects too, of course, but they pale in comparison to
thrill of the hunt. But if you find yourself upset in real life because
pkilled, or displaying any other abnormal feelings or traits that give
pause while you pkill, step back, breathe deeply, and play some Tetris or
Does it bother your sense of reality that I'm just a normal, everyday
working behind a desk 50 hours a week and married? That I have short-cropped
hair and wear collared shirts? That I have more suits than t-shirts? That
have degrees on my wall, and a group of normal friends? Ahh, you
Charles Manson, perhaps. I wish I could help you, but I'm not wired
"wrong," or anti-social, or sacrificing cats in the background to the
red and black candles while chanting the 32nd Psalm backwards. In fact
listening to CNN right now, typing this, while my wife works out to the
Tai Bo tape in the living room. I'm not working out my agression on
emptying my "harbored angst at the world" into our shared fantasy. I
"am." And you will deal with me, because the minute you entered this
game you made your choice.
There is no honor in gaming, period, regardless of what some tell you, so
won't argue whether this thing is honorable or not . I simply enjoy the
heart-pounding chase, the imagined panicked look in the player's eyes as
desperately cries out for salvation and finds only a seeking blade. I
the turmoil my soul enters as I smile wickedly, looting your corpse of
your worldly possessions, while at the same time some vestige of
morality plays the Golden Rule game with me. And then I pouch your goods
with a rejuvenated spring in my step, begin the search for a new target
worthy of my attention.
Does it bother me on some level that I've destroyed that which you worked
for, that if we take it outside the boxes connected to each other that I
some way harmed you, as you keep reminding me in between all the "fuck
you's" and their ilk? No, because my alphabet, unlike yours, has 26
Someone obviously forget to put the G, A, M and E in yours. I don't pity
You made a choice to come here . I exist simply to remind you of your
I won't reply to you if you ask me "why?" when you re-enter the game. I
won't return your goods. I won't listen to your threats, or your
your whining. You are forgotten, lest you raise my ire again, another
on a long list of people who asked the same questions you now ask. I
you back your imagined sense of safety that I destroyed, standing over
corpse. The online world is not all pretty pictures and safety, and I'm
tour guide inside the shadow. The laughter you hear in the night, as you
for safety? You know who's come calling. Run or die.
I don't gloat, or taunt, nor do I brag. I simply do, and I do so with
calculated precision. It's not personal, and it's not business either.
It's what I
enjoy. I won't rub my deed in your face after-the-fact, because you are
defeated, and that crosses a line I simply don't want to cross.
Ironically, you created me. You came to my game, where Player vs player is law. You
thought you could handle it, that the risks didn't apply to you, that
friends would protect you, that no-one would harm you because you harm
no-one else, that although it said it was a PvP game, that you would be
You're wrong, very, very wrong. It's you I come for specifically, with
enlightenment at the end of a pointed blade, with a nightmare ambush from
the empty shadow, with a lesson of the harsh reality of this game written
crimson hues on the ground as you crumple for the last time.
Don't whine. Don't bitch to the game masters and admin. Don't ask me to
come fulfill your sense of indignant righteousness and fair play by
you, or "fighting you fair". I already did, because nothing's fair here,
everything's fair here. If you cannot defend what you have from the
then you don't deserve to have it.
Do not bleat at me, little sheep, for this path you chose of your own
free will .
you knew the wolves lurked here, you simply chose to ignore them. Well I
didn't ignore you, regardless of the cloak of illusion you cast about
as you seek your place in this world.
October 1999 Imaginary Realities, the magazine of your mind.
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