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Englishkid62

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God knew why, but David has recently acquired a girlfriend. For some strange reason, I knew nothing good would come of it. Jenna was an attention-seeker, and David was her latest conquest, as much as she was to him. She had long, brown, curly hair and a long face which asserted female dominance wherever she went. What David saw beyond the mini-skirt and her elaborate make-up, so often frowned upon by teachers, was beyond me. I half hoped it was nothing physical. I did not fancy Jenna, nor her beauty, only superficial as far as I was concerned, or her pair of supercilious lips. Always bragging, always talking, never stopping. As long as she was around, David would never be himself. She was getting between us all the time, and David never appeared to care. When she was here, I was unwanted and had to make way for her Highness so she could sit on his lap. It was her reward for an unknown virtue, or it was simply deserved because all females do, while quite apparently she did little to earn his love.

That wasn’t to say she was completely unpleasant, however. She could be fairly amusing when she was, well, under the influence of a good amount of alcohol. Drinking was our passion too. It was fun - it numbed the pain and consciousness. Just forget the reality for a while, just pretend. And why do people smoke, when they know it is bad for them? It was the same reason. We could face the consequences on another day, if there really were any at all, but not now, not tomorrow. Somehow, deep inside, we all knew that.

One day, by chance, David caught me playing RuneScape in I.T. – I hated that subject, and regretted taking it for A-Level. It didn't surprise me, when he told me he had once played this game, too – after all we did share many interests. He watched amusedly as I wandered from the desert of Al-Karid, back into Lumbridge, deciding that cooking raw beef would prepare me, at least mentally, for the hours of training ahead.

25-Mar-2010 23:19:23 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:19:26 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

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It was a shame, because David had left the game a long time ago. Still, his knowledge could prove invaluable to my development.

‘I don’t play it anymore, Danny,’ he said impatiently, after I threw him several rather meaningful and important questions, or at least they were to me. ‘It gets annoying after some time. By the way, why don’t you become a member? You have to pay, but it makes things much easier, you know.’

Then he showed me the ‘Hiscores’, on the webpage, where personal achievements could be seen by everyone, cherished and admired in awe. The mechanics of the game was simple. The higher the skill level, the harder and the more time it would take to advance another level until you reach the maximum, level 99.

‘This is where the challenge is,’ David said. ‘It just gets harder and harder (and more annoying) until you give up. You eventually will. That’s why there aren’t many people with a 99 skill, let alone achieving several 99s and get level 126 combat.’

He then typed his name in the Hiscores casually, and I was very impressed when his achievements and his skills appeared on the screen, like a list of my favourite things. At the time I did not feature in the Hiscores. Before my eyes, David transformed into a semi-divine being, and the Hiscores has achieved its purpose, to ensure that David was loved, and respected, by someone like me.

I became a member that night, and I had never thought I would be convinced into paying for something as airy, as insubstantial as this. And I was happy about it too, happy for a whole evening, filled with the same joy all new players at some point felt. It was as though a life, a new adventure stretched before me, and there was so much to look forward to. Castle Wars was perhaps the first place I hit, though I dejectedly found myself imbedded in a huge block of ice, most of the time, after a flash of black robes appearing in the corner, and could not move until I was dead and back in the respawn room.

25-Mar-2010 23:19:28 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:19:41 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

Posts: 9,782 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

I managed not to win a single ticket after an hour, or any form of reward except the knowledge and the deliciously comforting idea that I had died a hundred times. Annihilated. Amidst the chaos of the battleground I was lost, wandered with no particular aim and I did not know what I was supposed to be doing, except refusing to die, because dying was bad. I left the arena, deciding maybe my talent was in money making after all. We all love money. It had not occurred to me yet, that some items in the game were untradeable, and could not be bought.

Soon, I realised the way to get rich was to sell items in bulk, as well as gathering a large batch of raw materials like coal and iron ore. Profits increases with the amount you sell. Efforts were generally rewarded. There was a clear correlation with what you invested, and what you get out. It was mathematical and it was the way this game worked. But a market research was needed. I discovered the RuneScape forums, and I spent three hours memorising item prices and the names of strange societies. I went through each forum, and came across some bizarre communities, namely the Stories forum (after all, who are these show-offs, people who have too much time on their hands and snobbish enough to write STORIES, or its more flamboyant relative, literary pretentions, about a computer game?). I landed eventually on the Events forum, where a barrage of drop-party invitations aroused my curiosity. Well, I didn't know what a drop-party was then, but it was supposed to be something pleasant, I could imagine, like a party in real life, perhaps. I knew all about parties – a place where sadness was banished into another dimension, a place where people could relax and no one had the right to be left out. The guest list for the party was already huge, but it seemed as if the host, Kipplin, didn't really mind at all. Now that was the party spirit I was looking for. Clearly he knew that the more people, the better the party.

25-Mar-2010 23:19:33 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:19:51 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

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Had I not decided to try my luck there, this story might never have happened. So many lives were entwined by this decision, but I could not have known it then. I’m writing this now because I have to, or otherwise, like the fictitious monster that waited patiently on page 51 of this forum, this story, like so many others, will be forgotten, forever lost. I do not enjoy writing, but I’m writing this out of duty, a fierce sense of obligation, or charity, as a final act of kindness, so that others will know this is what happened, and this is the least I can do, if not the last, for Kipplin.

Everyone, I saw it, loved drop-parties – it resembled a crazy treasure hunt where certain valuable items (and a few junks) would be wrapped up and scattered across the entire household. It was mostly depending on luck, of course, whether you get an item of value at all. Any unwanted items would be, without question, littered on the floor along with their fancy wrappings. And the mess was never really a guest’s responsibility. The guest can do no wrong. That evening I went to this twenty-million drop-party. Unlike the other guests that day, in their hundreds, I was the only one who spoke with our host.

25-Mar-2010 23:20:38 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:01 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

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The drops were long distributed before I turned up. The party was more popular than I thought, and the server was too full to allow an extra player. I never acquired the habit of arriving early, for anything, and that proved disadvantageous now. When the peak hours were gone, and my tired eyes finally saw my own avatar on the screen, logged in, the party was over and there were no drops left. However, the dropped items - which now some of the guests were holding in their hands, boasting proudly - were remarkably valuable. Some people gained more wealth in one second than I had ever earned with my own two hands. Players who entered Kipplin’s house with nothing of value on them could walk out a proud millionaire, as though the building itself were a magical factory, where dreams were born.

I wandered in his house, stupidly, and admired the new abyssal whips and dragon boots of a few guests along the way, and congratulated them heartily. This was another world, a world of luxuries, and nothing like where I came from. There were beautiful mahogany furniture, huge water fountains in the garden, and gilded shrines - none of which I could afford. A demon butler was serving drinks. In this mansion I was made to feel insignificant, an impression heightened by the grand, imposing hall in which I now stood. The rug and the curtains were made of the finest cloth, all gilded. The house seemed to shine with money, or the promise of it. I went to his master bedroom, uninvited, but found only an empty four poster bed and a delicate dressing table, which I then used conveniently to change my hair style for free.

While the guests busied themselves in Kipplin’s fencing rings where they tested their new weapons, or made their way, feeling quite brave, to his dungeon to challenge his steel dragon, I, on the other hand, was determined to find the host. Who on Earth would have so much to give away? Where did he get his money?

25-Mar-2010 23:20:47 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:10 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

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David told me there were three types of multi-millionaires in RuneScape. The first was those who inherited their wealth from a senior, more experienced player, like a legacy, when they left the game. The second type was those who earned their wealth from nothing, through skilling or trading. The third was the most sinister of them all: they gained their wealth illegitimately, by purchasing items in the game with real life money. I recalled a dubious debate amongst guests regarding our host.

‘Has anyone seen Kipplin?’ I inquired, to no one in particular.

‘No, I haven’t seen him. I don’t really care, to be honest,’ a much higher level player replied. ‘I just come for the party. My mate brought me here. Actually, I was about to go.’

‘Cool,' I said. Out of interest, or the desire to do research, I asked, ‘how do you earn your money?’

‘Earn?’ He stared at me, in disbelief. ‘Why bother? Why spend time making hard money if you can simply pick it up here, every week?’

Quite right he was. Why bother? But it struck me that this source of income was over reliant, and not preferable in the least. We were silent for a while because neither of us had anything particularly interesting to say, and he didn't feel like leaving just yet. He spoke again some minutes later, in a serious manner, as though imparting God’s truth, ‘I think he is a hacker. He drops twenty millions every week.’

A female player at his level overheard this discussion. She added, ‘He is a scammer.’

‘He is a Jagex undercover staff,’ suggested another, and then they went on, backing up their theories with ridiculous evidence.

25-Mar-2010 23:20:56 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:17 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

Posts: 9,782 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

A while later they dropped the subject, either they had nothing to add, or had given up convincing the others. I half listened, pretending to be interested. As far as I was concerned, I had to meet Kipplin to confirm these rumours, but none of them knew where he went. It was twenty minutes later, when I found him alone performing higher-alchemy on the second floor, in an empty room, perhaps for his own amusement. The gold twinkled in his hands as he converted, with a passion, a pile of bank notes into cold, hard cash. He was wearing black robes, with a gigantic black hood covering everything except his chin, making eye contact impossible. I never liked the idea of a hood. In a hood, I discovered, I could see nothing but what was in front of me, only. I could only stare ahead in one direction, oblivious to my surroundings, ignoring them at all costs. Even I, who knew nothing about the ways of the world, knew that life, when living in a hood, was boring.

I ventured up to him and demanded the truth, about how he made his money, but he ignored me and continued to perform his magic, which, I felt, was rather rude for a host. For two minutes I wondered if I had made it into his ignore list. But soon my luck turned and he began to reply, monosyllabically. After a few minutes, he was less reluctant to speak, particularly after I had complimented his stylish black robes, which I vaguely remembered seeing from Castle Wars.

‘I mined Limestone,’ he admitted, but I couldn’t see how that could make twenty millions in a week. He was much higher level than me – level 126 combat with eighteen 99 skills. That included 99 construction. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first spotted him on Hiscores. This man achieved the impossible. He was standing there now, amongst the best in the game, where I could never even come close, or hope to. In awe, I started to compare Kipplin’s skills with David’s on the Hiscores, and Kipplin was better in every single skill, some even by a fraction.

25-Mar-2010 23:24:33 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:25 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

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At first I thought he was returning to his silent self again, or deciding that I was annoying him, when I said his skill levels were higher than my idol and friend, David’s. I gave him David’s player name for reference, in case he wouldn’t believe me. But when I finished my compliment he ceased his relentless performance of alchemy, and raised his head, making eye contact finally. From a distance his eyes seemed to glow. As soon as I showed incomprehension he looked upon me once more, the spark in his eyes vanished, and he became rigid and full of horror. His eyes widened and as if the devil were eating him alive.

After a few questions about my life, and how I met David, which I perceived as simple curiosity, he dropped the subject. He was interested in how David settled in college, and was delighted to know that David was alive and well, and happy, more than anything else. Soon I was overcome with fatigue and I had to log off. We said goodbye to each other, and he thanked me for coming, apologised that there were nothing left for me today. He told me later, in a few weeks’ time, that I was the only person he added permanently to his friends list that year.

* * * * *

25-Mar-2010 23:24:39 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:37 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

Posts: 9,782 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

From that day, Kipplin was my employer, legend and friend. I worshipped him, looked up to him. Whenever I logged on, Kipplin was always there as though he was waiting for me to brighten his day. He was there, seven o’clock in the morning, and he was still there, still playing, when it was long past midnight. It became embarrassing, for I was always the one to take my leave, break an appointment, or had to log off to help my mother with mundane things, or had to sleep because I was tired. He didn't mind. He was never offline, not to me anyway. He was always busy, but he never forgot to say 'hi', through private messages, as soon as I was available to talk. He was patient with my questions and he was always there to help me. It was more than I could possibly have asked for. Since he rarely told me what he was up to in these long hours of activity, I checked on his progress on the Hiscores from time to time, hoping to find some clue, or truth, behind his enormous wealth.

He gave me work too, often over-paid. During that month he gave me assignments such as mining a thousand heaps of coal ore, which he insisted, and I personally found impossible, could be completed inside a day. Despite unreasonable yet rewarding demands, I was honoured by this relationship. He was treating me like an equal despite our level differences. He never asked for anything in return, except my friendship. I asked him once, what exactly did he want from me. He replied smugly that whatever he wanted, I could not give. Sometimes I told Kipplin of my projects and my ideas for making money, which now seemed abysmal and laughable, and its naivety stripped the whole thing bare, as my understanding of the game grew. But he never laughed at my plans, only discouraged me gently. Perhaps, in the spirit of pure charity, he let me knew when his parties were going to be, so that I could frequently drop by, arriving an hour in advance to pick up my share of his hard earned cash.

25-Mar-2010 23:24:45 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:45 by Englishkid62

Englishkid62

Posts: 9,782 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

One day in mid-December, I asked him what his favourite skill was.

‘Farming,’ he replied immediately. Farming was one of the few remaining skills he had not yet achieved level 99. I didn't understand it then. Farming was a waste of time – despite my efforts and attempts in training this skill my crops always die in my absence. I had no interest for gardening either. Dirt, dead things, pungent buckets of compost and filthy worms came to life and became vivid in my mind, when Farming was mentioned. It was a terrible skill, awful, and up until now I even believed, or had been given the impression, purposefully or not, that Kipplin and I had a lot in common…

‘Why farming?’ I demanded.

‘Farming, is the ultimate test of perseverance,’ Kipplin explained. ‘It’s like an investment, you see. In hope of getting something in return, you can only pour more and more into it.’

‘Interesting. But my crops always die,’ I objected.

‘Mine never die.’

The first impression was that he was having me on, and if he were someone else I would have dismissed it as a joke. But Kipplin never lied.

‘How exactly do you farm?’ I asked.

‘I farm, and look after only one patch at any one time.’

Not to mention getting 99 farming with a hundred patches – even with a hundred patches, he, or anyone, would have to give up at least six months of his life to achieve 99 farming. The ultimate test of perseverance. An image crept into my mind, and I saw Kipplin in his black robes again, looking expectantly at the one and only patch he had something growing on it, probably performing higher-alchemy while standing under his gigantic black hood, watching over this one, tiny life form, hope, from a tiny seedling to the day it sprouted, feeding it with his love, his soul, or what was left of it, nourished it with memories and imagination, hoping he would one day get something in return.

25-Mar-2010 23:24:51 - Last edited on 11-Jan-2014 00:20:54 by Englishkid62

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