TKOC – spillmimring og dårlig fanfic

WARNING! Wall of text is about to crit for +180

En gang for hundre år siden (eller iallefall ti) lagde min kjære et spill som en del av et skoleprosjekt – fire gutter gikk sammen og lagde et tekstbasert strategispill som de døpte The Kingdoms of Chaos. TKOC fikk allerede i beta overraskende mange spillere, og ikke bare vennegjengen på Gjøvik, men folk fra hele Europa. Du valgte deg en rase og en klasse, og opprettet en provins som du så styrte – du var en av fem (eller var det seks?) provinser i et kongedømme som kjempet sammen mot andre kongedømmer om å ha størst arealer og ressurser. Historien i TKOCs verden gikk i sirkler igjennom flere ages, og ved slutten av hver age ble vinnere kåret og spillet resatt.

På det meste var det hundrevis av spillere, virkelig fra hele Europa (jeg husker særlig en portugiser som gjorde meg gaaaaaal! og en finne som var min trofaste støtte gjennom flere ages).

TKOC er/var et ganske så gjennomsnittlig strategispill vil jeg tro, du klikket rundt, kunne utforske så og så mange mål med land om gangen, måtte forske for å få bedre industri og tjene mer penger, sende ut tyver for å stjele fra naboene dine, kaste spells for å gjøre godt eller ondt, og selvsagt trene hæren din så du kunne krige – eller i det minste forsvare deg – mot nabolandene.

Det som gjorde at TKOC skilte seg ut for meg, og virkelig dro meg inn var det som skjedde i forumet der. Joda, det var whining, og fryktelig mye kjefting på admins (et spill blir trolig ALDRI balansert slik at alle er fornøyd) – men i det store og det hele la folk veldig mye arbeid ned i historien RUNDT selve spillet. Rollespill-delen av forumet hadde fantastiske historier, lange avsnitt fra de forskjellige spillerne om hva som foregikk, hvordan man opplevde angrep, det var diplomati og ryggstikking og krangling og alt som skjedde i spillet ble forklart og utbrodert i virkelig fantastiske historier.

Min kjære trakk seg etterhvert ut av driftingen – videre utdanning og etterhvert jobb og andre forpliktelser gjorde at det ikke var så lett å fortsette, og de tok aldri betalt for jobben de gjorde. Det samme gjelder de andre, både de opprinnelige og andre som har hjulpet til. Spillet har kommet og gått, og jeg spilte det faktisk igjen senest for et års tid siden – men med admins som bare delvis har tid til drifting, og alle “mine” gamle medsammensvorne borte fra spillet ble det aldri det samme. Dessverre ser det ut til at det er nede igjen nå – www.tkoc.net, men hvem vet. Det kan jo komme tilbake en dag hvis noen finner tid og ork til å ta det opp igjen 🙂

Uansett. Denne lange introen er mest for å forklare den meget klisjefylte, men dyptfølte fan-fictionen eller hva jeg skal kalle det, som kommer under. De første fire årene av spillets levetid spilte jeg age etter age som alven Lii av provinsen Lemuria. Jeg kalte henne alltid for healer, selv om det ikke var noen egen klasse for det – jeg pleide å foretrekke å ha en supportrolle i kongedømmet mitt, og forsterke andres angrep og forsvar med magi eller tyver som snek seg gjennom natten. Etter mange år som Lii og å ha puttet mye energi inn i rollen var det på tide å trappe ned på involveringen i spillet, og jeg ønsket ikke å la Lii bare forsvinne stille ut. Jeg ville ha en ordentlig avslutning på årevis med rollespilling. Dette førte til innleggene under.

Lii er altså meg, Solo av Solomania er min kjære – han spilte alltid en mektig mage, og rollespilte også alltid en forklaring på hva som foregikk når en age gikk over i en annen, og hvordan det gikk til at provinser gjenoppsto. Aernarion er finnen jeg nevnte i et av avsnittene over, en av våre medsammensvorne. Det aller siste avsnittet er skrevet av Solo selv.

Hvorfor dele dette nå? Fordi forumene er nede, og mye fantastisk rollespilling jeg var involvert i i årevis er gått tapt.

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Lii is standing on one of the thin branches in the top of the soultree in Lemuria. Visible only as a tiny white figure from the ground, she studies her province, her beloved Lemuria, with an intensity that borders on the desperate. She loves her forests, and she loves her people and everything that lives in the forests.

Tears roll down her pale face.

She has made up her mind a long time ago, but the choice still hurt. This age has driven her close to self-destruction. The war, the killings and the betrayals through seven ages have all worn down her soul, who belong to a healer – not a warrior. Every time her warriors kill a living beeing, and every time one of her people are harmed, her soul bleeds.

She has managed to protect her province well, this age as all ages, but she has no energy left. The last months she has spent alone in her chambers in the soultree, running her province from there, with hardly any contact with other people at all. In other ages the need of her province has kept her continuing through the apocalypse, but as this age comes to its end, she know she cannot – she will not survive another age.

A raven, sitting on her left shoulder, caws in her ear, trying to comfort. She places her cheek against its gleaming black feathers for a moment; then, with a brief movement of her hand, sends it flying towards the castle of Solomania. In the message it carries, she asks a huge favour of Solo. She knows that when the apocalypse begins, and she can feel in her bones that it’s not a long time away from the world of chaos, he will cast his usual protection over the provinces that are his friends and allies and take them to the place-in-between to keep them safe from the destructions. Her wish is that the protection cast over Lemuria will not end when the new age begins. She wishes for Lemuria to remain secluded, outside of chaos, in the place-in-between.

With Lemuria and the people, the forests, and the animals safe, she can leave the kingdoms of chaos and start her travels. She does not yet know where she will travel, but she plan to find back to the original world of the elves, visit the holy and powerfull places of the world, and learn more about healing – especially the healing of the soul. Maybe if she learns more, she will be able to live in the world of chaos once more.

If Solo refuses, and Lemuria cannot be kept safe, Lii has no other choice than to remain, and with a healers firm knowledge she know she will not survive. She might be an elf, and close to immortal, but as her energy drop she will fade away and remain as just a whisper among the trees of Lemuria. But she knows her beloved, he has the power to perform the magic she wishes for, and she feel he will not deny her this.

Lii descends through the branches of the soultree, following the winding paths made up first by thin branches, but later by brances the size of highways. She enter the tree, and walk through the many chambers, her hands absently touching walls and familiar furniture. She returns to her own chambers, dons a tunic and a pair of pants made of a cloth that shimmer softly – beeing at one and the same time every single color of the forest. She put on a heavy travelling cloak, and soft, kneehigh boots. In her belt she places the sword Imdril – the only weapon she accepts to carry, simply because its short, daggerlike blade is as handy when gathering herbs and cutting bandages, as for protecting herself. She picks up the bundle that lie ready on her bed, and move down the last part of the soultree on silent feet.

She stops only to drink from the small creek that has its outspring among the roots of the tree – none of her people are visible. The tree normally bustles with activity this time of the day, but today the people of Lemuria sense her wishes, and leave her alone. They know, as well as she does, that if they were to show up they would not be able to stand watching her leave, and they would beg for her to stay – if they did, it would be the end of Lii, as she is not able to watch them hurt. Goodbyes are not needed, they know she will return.

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As Lii leaves the soultree, and start out towards the borders of Lemuria, a young shadow-cat bounces out of the trees surrounding her and fall into step with her – when she tries to chase it away, it simply snarls at her, and keeps on walking. Against herself, Lii has to smile – the huge cat is determined not to let her leave on her own. One of the huge black ravens lands on her shoulder with silent beats of its wings, it places its beak against her cheek for a moment, and then turns its head to keep an eye on the forest around them.

Lii smiles for the first time in months, and her step gains new energy – she is not alone. This will be a grand adventure, and when she returns, Lemuria will wait for her.

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SOLO:

As the time of the next apocalypse finally draws near, solo walks up the stairs to the roof of his castle, once again to cast the protective spell to survive. Once atop his castle, he looks around on his war-stricken province, so large, but yet so depopulated. This age which should have been great to the members of the elven nation, turned out to be a very tough age. The few members of the nation didn’t have enough power, and in the end, even orcs were allowed to stay among the most powerful provinces. A very hard age, indeed.

Solo told Lii’s raven to fly to her with his message. A message promising to take care of the soultree and the closest area around it, but solo’s power was no longer as great as they used to be, and he knew he couldn’t save all of Lemuria. He couldn’t even save all of solomania anymore, but the soultree and his castle would be safe. The raven flew away, going north for some reason, and then suddenly disappearing in a black cloud.

The friends who had wanted to join solo in his castle in this time between the ages, were down inside the main hall of the castle. Eating and drinking all they could while exchanging stories of the past. Their mood was better than that of anyone leaving so much behind would actually be, but the different spells cast around the castle protected them all from despair.

As the black cloud came closer to the castle, solo went into the circle engraved in the roof, preparing to leave the world of chaos once again. Then he started the chanting, and the world outside disappeared in a white light. The soultree of Lemuria appeared beside the castle, and with the last of his effort, solo spoke the word of power learned by Aernarion last time to bind the spell in it’s place. Then he collapsed.