Thursday, August 31, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 035 - Sing For Your Supper

Sing For Your Supper

After much deliberation, I decided that I would defer my thrilling visit to the EVE gate until I had been able to find a more appropriate route.

I sat down for a while in my pod, and as I was beginning to plan my next exciting move, I was suddenly contacted by a wild-eyed person whom I could only describe as being the most accident prone individual in the entire universe.

I had barely managed to say "nice to meet you" when he decided to inform me of his boundless fame and notoriety:

Well, with an introduction of this magnitude, I was naturally fascinated. Several minutes into the conversation, and after having used my thesaurus, dictionary and pocket anagram solver to decipher his words, I managed to garner a semblance of understanding about Daniel's life in EVE.

It would seem that he was a self-confessed forum addict and someone whom most other people found to be (in his own words) "extremely annoying". As further evidence of this, he suggested that I look at his incredulous employment history:

Indeed it would appear to be utterly true. The list of organisations that he had been booted out of was so very very long that to accurately measure it would require the usage of an astonishingly lengthy unit of measurement.

After reading this 5 googolplex megamile run-down of all the places he had been fired from, I found myself spinning from the sheer dizziness of it all. It was then that he decided to inform me of two truly astounding things:

I was very tempted to ask why he had agreed to sing to people on their Teamspeak in the first place. Presumably one would guess that perhaps it would not be the best of ideas but apparently this did not occur to him........

Nonetheless, he had valiantly sung for his supper and had been subject to a large amount of ridicule as a result. In addition to all this, he had lost around 70 billion isk during his time in the game, and yet here he was still happily playing. I had no choice but to admire his utter stickability.

It was for these reasons that I decided that I liked Daniel.

Unfortunately, it would appear that his 3-year run of bad luck had not yet ended because he then broke the sad news to me of a terribly horrific accident that had transpired not more than just a few hours ago:

I was quite sure that if Daniel Jackson was in the UK, his name would be Frank Spencer.....

After this very enjoyable conversation with someone I couldn't help but simultaneously laugh at and respect, my thoughts were cast back to the bizarre asssortment of pilots I had encountered thus far in my journey.

During my time up in the North I had come across a pilot who was equally insane and was named after the only computer processor in history that was hotter than the core of the sun:

CB had decided to travel 50 jumps in order to come and visit me, purely so that he could say "hi". After daringly traversing the plains of EVE and dodging three gatecamps he had eventually made it to me, said "hi" and then promptly logged out because he had to get up for work the next morning...

After reminiscing, I then began to notice that people were becoming very edgy in Local. For the past few days there had been a heightened number of alerts that vicious vagabonds had been prowling ASCN space, intent on causing mayhem.

I then discovered just exactly who they were:

I had planned to leave soon but I now wondered if things were about to get very very interesting around here...

(to be continued....)

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 034 - Elementary, My Dear Watson

Elementary, My Dear Watson

I spent the evening in a quandary, mulling over my shocking dilemma.

Eventually, after much soul searching and forceful self-probing I concluded that I would try to form a stunning relationship with the voluptuous and stinking rich jezebel "Missy".

Perhaps once I had finally gotten my hands on her substantial assets, I would forvermore be straighter than the path that a 1-Dimensional being takes when unicycling to work.

The breadth and depth of the above comment may be difficult to appreciate, depending on your perspective on things...

Some time later, I entered into a conversation with several pilots in Local and the subject matter eventually moved on to where I would head to next, in my thrilling journey of exploration.

Several ideas were bounded about by the residents, most of which sounded very agreeable. Some people suggested I head to Stain, some said to Omist and others suggested a visit to the Band of Brothers.

However, the following suggestion was much more intriguing:

It would seem that there was a very arcane and mystical object, buried deep within the structure of EVE, that was a secret portal to somewhere occult and shrouded.

Upon further questioning, I discovered that this gate had been sought after by many an adventurer, but had never been reached. My eyes glimmered with excitement as I realised that this was perhaps the ultimate adventure.

Amazingly, it would seem that certain pilots had even gone to the staggering lengths of building strange and mysterious symbols of worship at this mystery location:

I immediately consulted my map and began to plot a course to this holy shrine of secrecy, only to discover that the only way there was to go via a 0.5 security system!

A journey of many jumps, all of which were through 0.0 - 0.4 space, apart from just one of them, right in the middle, which was 0.5, with no way around! I cursed the infernal designers of the map and began to wonder if I was being toyed with by the ancient and insightful Gods of EVE.

A scene from the classic film "Jason and the argonauts" popped into my mind as I wondered if the developers were sitting there in their opulent hall on the Mount Olympus of Iceland, drinking lavish amphorae of wine and moving small marble mouldings of the players across a large and ancient chessboard, whilst musing over their fates...

I wondered if there was a way to solve this heavy dilemma. Perhaps I could procure the services of a great detective, who would heroically unravel the mystery of the impossible journey for me. I did not know if any such detectives existed in EVE, although I had encountered an alt spy earlier in my adventure so anything was possible.

Besides, if there were any detectives, and if they really were that good, they wouldn't need me to contact them at all. They would already have found out I required their services and would just pop up a chat box on my screen, which is, incidentally, exactly what happened:

Sherlock appeared not to know about my proposed journey to the EVE-Gate but decided instead to inform me that I could dock at a station in the "outer ring" region and could even buy mining barge "Blueprint Originals" there.

Well naturally I was overjoyed at this fine piece of investigating as I had heard that blueprint originals were valuable items to possess. I was just about to congratulate Sherlock on this discovery when I happened to glance at my map and I saw just how close this "nearby station" was:

The great detective was proposing that I travel a mere 102 jumps...

(to be continued...)

Sunday, August 27, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 033 - The Female Of The Species

The Female Of The Species

To take my mind off of the troubling problem of having a phalanx of doppelgangers rampantly prowling the mean streets of EVE, I decided that it was time to look for some romance.

I had heard many stories of people falling in love in MMOs, and indeed had even encountered stories of luxurious in-game weddings, so I was confident that there would be someone out there for me too, just waiting to declare their unbridled love for me.

I decided that since my hosts still believed I was famous, I would set my sights high and would attempt to procure a stunning celebrity girlfriend.

I considered this one:

However, I decided against this because I did not find the prospect of being Michael Douglas' "sloppy seconds" very appealing.

The thought of engaging in a loving act of the oral kind, only to horrifically pull out a pair of dentures from Catherine's lady-garden was too much for me...

I concluded that a hipper, sexier, much more trendy celebrity would definitely be more appropriate:

This girl certainly had potential and she definitely knew how to handle herself. I found her to be a very formidable woman and recorded a note in my journal to indicate my potential interest in this relentless slayer of vampires.

It was then, that for an entirely inexplicable reason, I was contacted by a woman who was just waiting to declare her unbridled love for me. Being familiar with the inverse-attraction laws of courting I decided that since she was the one coming on to me, I would play it cool and give the impression I was hard to get:

At this point, she was clearly distraught and decided to reveal to me that she was vastly wealthy. I was liking this situation more and more and decided to make a vague sexual innuendo to add to the excitement of the occasion:

She then closed the window and sent me an evemail, telling me to get back in touch when I was able to pay her more attention. We exchanged a few more evemails, during which I discovered she was a married woman.

I was excited by the prospect of an illicit liaison with an unavailable consort and I was very surprised when she informed me that her husband permitted her to engage in outrageous internet-based flirtation of the highest order.

Missy contacted me again and we engaged in another thrilling conversation:

I sat there, pondering this unusual proposition, and at that moment I was just far too embarrassed to admit that I was unfamiliar with the mechanics of zero-gravity copulation.

Just as I was about to make an excuse I received a huge blast from the past, when a chat-request box appeared on my screen, from none other than the very first person I had ever spoken to at the beginning of my adventure:

I had always wondered what exactly it was that Jackamo wanted all that time ago, and now I had the opportunity to find out.

I decided to delicately probe for more information:

Jackamo was clearly being ambiguous and we both continued to laugh nervously for some time, whilst Missy was shamelessly and desperately throwing herself upon me to attract my attention in the other chat box.

I found myself becoming very confused and was not sure which one of these two hot suitors I should go for.

Missy's large assets were definitely appealing to me but the lure of a forbidden rendezvous at the hands of a thruster-powered heavy assault vessel was also strangely alluring...

What was I to do?

(to be continued...)

Friday, August 25, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 032 - Would The Real INNOMINATE NIGHTMARE Please Stand Up?

Would The Real INNOMINATE NIGHTMARE Please Stand Up?

In the history of online gaming, no single activity has captivated the imaginations of so many people, in such a direct and awe-inspiringly, earth-shatteringly, gut-twistingly, stomach-churningly, nerve-wrackingly, heart-wrenchingly, andrenalin-inducingly, blisteringly, excitingly, tantalisingly, stunningly, shockingly, dazzlingly, sparklingly, glitteringly mesmerising manner than the activity that popped into my mind as a fleeting thought at that moment in time.....

I had heard stories that EVE was famous in the MMO world for one thing and one thing alone. It was an activity that seperated the men from the boys. It was this particular pursuit that placed this game in the highest possible category of greatness.

It was this single facet of the entire EVE experience that thousands of amazed people flocked from all over the world to experience first-hand and to forever have their online gaming experience changed for the better.

I am, of course, talking about this:

I had decided that it was time to find out just how much a n00b can make by mining in 0.0 in the most basic n00b frigate (the bantam), with just two miner 1 lasers and the mining skill on level 1.

I set off and selected an appropriate ore (crimson arkonor) and proceeded to mine 256 m3 at a time, flying back to the station after each load and dodging angel battleship spawns whilst mining, and switching belts where necessary to avoid a nasty and harrowing death.

It took just under 90 minutes for me to mine the required 200 units and I then refined the ore at 71% efficiency at the local station K-9UG4. The station also took a 10% tithe, for the pleasure of providing the service.

After this, I then sold the minerals to region-wide buy orders in the station I was at and my total profit from the expedition was 1,080,000 isk.

I imagined that this was a damn sight more than I would have got by mining Veldspar in 1.0 security space under the same conditions. It served to be a useful exercise because it hinted at the possible riches yet to come.

I then noticed that I had received an extremely intriguing communication of the weirdest order:

I began to wonder if my time was finally up. I had been living the life of a king down here in the south and now my very worst fears had been realised.

I felt like a cast member of the movie "The Exorcist" and I was becoming more and more terrified with each passing second, as I wondered if the curse would reach me too, and strike me down so early in my career.

I followed the link and almost fainted out of abject shock when I witnessed the abomination that was this:

I decided to cast this harrowing scene asunder and to concentrate on more sensible activities. However, a few minutes later, I found myself performing a player search for INNUMINATE to discover what he really looked like.

I had been impersonating him for several days now and couldn't resist the urge to look. I now wish I had never given in to this temptation, because when I did finally perform the character search, I ended up making this truly shocking discovery of the highest magnitude:

As I sat there, looking at me, myself, darth vader and my father, I could have sworn I heard Eminem prancing around in the back of my mind, and rapping the immortal words: "Would the real INNOMINATE NIGHTMARE please stand up?"

I decided that drastic action was called for and I immediately set about putting a cunning plan into effect.........

(to be continued.....)

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 031 - As Cold As Ice

As Cold As Ice

The next day, after having spent the night receiving deep back massages by promiscuous ASCN commanders in the luxurious Love Shack, I encountered a voluptuous minx of a pilot who went by the entirely unexpected name of "Helen":

I was somewhat surprised at the simplicity of her name and I imagined that, if she were a telephone number or a car license plate, she would surely sell for a truly enormous amount of isk.

I found Helen to be a very friendly and helpful person, who offered to show me around the neighbourhood in a dazzling fashion. I took her up on this kind offer, and some 16 jumps later we arrived at a "Confederation Of Red Moon" station, at the bottom of the universe:

Naturally, I felt obliged to ask the following:

After being greeted by the drugged up residents, Helen asked if I would like to visit a "complex" in order to trounce and pummel some vicious battleships in a truly humiliating manner.

Naturally, I was thrilled at the propsect of this wanton destruction and quickly got into an appropriate vessel to help in the valiant fight.

I took my shuttle......

Upon arriving at the complex, I was informed that this was a "7/10 Zone", where nasty Angel Cartel vessels were rampantly destroying all who dared to enter their foreboding domain.

For the next half an hour or so, as a group of five pilots, we flew around the complex obliterating all who dared walk in our path.

My wallet continually blinked with my share of the bounties and at the end of it Helen split the proceeds of the big loot equally between the remaining three pilots.

This included 13th tier, 15th tier and 16th tier overseer's effects and in total I had made around 30 million isk for about an hour's work. This was my first taste of the wealth that awaits a pilot in 0.0.

I was informed that the first section of the complex re-spawns every 45 minutes, which means that vast fortunes await those with the firepower to defeat it.

It was then, as I was heading home from the complex, that I suffered a vicious and brutal assault, at the hands of a rampant ASCN pilot called Fortior.

I felt a cold shiver run up and down my spine as I was hit. I froze with terror as the weapon struck me down and I wondered if my icy death was yet again imminent.

A frigid sense of danger overcame me and I suddenly felt like the last remaining soldier on an almighty wintry battlefield, surrounded by the dead bodies of his squadron, plagued with memories of bitter conflict, and knowing that the end was nigh.

I then noticed that, miraculously, my ship was suspiciously not taking any damage. At that moment, I saw that I had, in fact, not been struck by a deadly long range cruise missile, but had been the target of something entirely different:

I had been viciously assaulted by none other than a massive intergalactic snowball and now felt extremely embarrassed at the utter sense of terror that I had been overcome with. It was a very good prank and I made sure to congratulate my attacker heartily.

I had very much enjoyed my time with ASCN thus far, but I couldn't help but feel too comfortable here. The local pilots had been very nice to me and I had not been shot at in ages. However, it was for this very reason that I was feeling like an MP3 player sitting on the round table at the court of King Arthur:

I felt extremely out of place.

It was then that a dazzling thought struck me........

(to be continued...)

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 030 - Southern Blues

Southern Blues

As I sat and learned the shocking past events of the tumultuous South, a deep and fundamental understanding of the richness of the EVE universe hit me, in a manner not entirely dissimilar to being forcefully struck by a "turkey slap". The EVE universe was a living breathing organ and it was "in your face"....

Apparently, back in January of this year, a group called G and a group called IRON had joined together and had brutally launched an attack on ASCN in an attempt to seize one of their stations.

At this point, I stopped listening to the story for a second because I realised that I had not yet googled my hosts, to find out who they really were:

A quick search on Google revealed that ASCN were the:

American Society for Clinical Nutrition...

I considered this to be a worthy and lofty organisation, whose work, in direct contrast to the waistlines of many US citizens, was in desperate need of spreading. I made a note of this information as I was sure that it would prove to be invaluable later on.

I was further instructed that the seventh letter of the alphabet had disbanded some time afterwards and had founded the cult of Emilio. It would seem that Charlie Sheen's brother had had his hand further back in the deep and mysterious history of EVE than I had previously realised.

Apparently, the attack on the anti-hamburger brigade had taken place because G/IRON had previously launched an unexpected assault on STAIN alliance (I was too terrified to google this) and had brutally crushed them within a week.

My hosts informed me that this was a truly shocking event, as STAIN had been the biggest alliance in the game at the time. Spurred on by this glorious victory, G/IRON had marched further south in a militaristic conquest of grand designs and had launched a series of deadly attacks on the hot-dog haters.

However, these attacks were ultimately destined to fail...

The fascinating thing about this conversation was that I was beginning to develop an understanding of the nuances and complexities that underpinned the politics of the game.

It was then that I was informed of how the betrayal had occurred:

It would appear, if the words of these people were to be taken at face value, that the cult of emilio had ruthlessly and bitterly fired upon these dieticians whilst "being blue" to them. In other words, they had used one of the oldest military tricks in the book and had become friends with someone, only to then attack them, once their defences had dropped.

A shocking tactic that most would agree is either:

A) An abhorrable abomination of the most fundamental kind, exhibiting a total lack of ethics, morality and respect for human life and shunning all decency.


b) Brilliant.

I was intrigued by this but was also mindful that I was only hearing one side of this story. My corporation INNOMINATE NEUTRALITY had proudly declared itself to be neutral in all 0.0 regions, so I made sure not to make a judgement on this matter until I had heard the other side of the story.

I made a note in my journal to ask D2 about it when I returned to the north. Perhaps I would contact Satan for his infernal perspective on the matter.

The next morning, despite the assurances of my hosts that nobody would harm me during my visit, I discovered that I was actually about as safe as a guest on the Jerry Springer show when the guards and bouncers were unexpectedly taking the day off.

In a completely unprovoked and merciless assault, I found myself being shockingly attacked by none other than a member of ASCN.....

(to be continued...)

Monday, August 21, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 029 - Celebrity Doubles (Part 3)

Celebrity Doubles (Part 3)

Witnessing capital ships for the very first time was a spectacular sight.

A device called a "Cynosural Field" was activated and the monstrously large beasts mysteriously jumped into the system via a technologically obscure quantum process that, had I not have seen it, would have somewhat resembled the lights from a christmas tree being chewed up by a malfunctioning quantum vacuum cleaner.

Now some would take such a statement to mean that not seeing this wondrous sight would have sucked bad, or that it would have sucked only if you had thought about not looking at it, or that when you did finally attempt a half-glance it mysteriously simulatenously sucked and didn't suck, and that the measure of its suckiness was entirely in the eye of the beholder due to the fact that all of this only applied if you knew its momentum, which you couldn't possibly know because you could see where it was and must therefore have known its exact position, and if you decided to cleverly conclude that you knew its momentum via the mechanism of not knowing its exact position then you obviously weren't looking at it at all, which would have really really sucked because the ships were big and shiny and made me go "oooooh".....

A few ships further into the parade and another voluminous vessel of quixotic stock veritably induced me to utter the syllable "Aaaaaah", whilst the confetti and ticker tape streamed across my face in the same manner that the star of a shampoo commercial witnesses her hair defy the laws of gravity by doing the exact same.

The remainder of the parade was very enjoyable and I floated there in my pod, living the high life for the first time since my adventure had begun.

Later on, when things had quietened down a little, I managed to sneak off to valiantly commit suicide:

I had decided that since my hosts still believed I was famous, I may as well try to make a quick buck from the situation by podding myself and selling off my frozen corpse at the love shack where I was based:

All I needed to do now was to sit back and await a mystery buyer. I wondered just how long I would have to wait.

I was sure that someone could only purchase such a piece of merchandise if they were utterly stinking rich and wanted to make a statement of their vast wealth and power by chucking away two hundred and fifty million isk on a frivolous impulse purchase.

Surely no such person existed....

I began to wonder if the whole celebrity thing had changed me. In my adventure thus far, I had never asked a single person for a single thing and I now suddenly found myself auctioning off my dead body for a quarter of a billion, in order to feed my celebrity mindflood addiction.

I threw away my truffles in disgust and attempted to regain my humble former-self. At that moment I felt like an injured dove, alternately ascending and plummeting and desperately trying to struggle to regain a sense of normality as I attempted to fly without wings.

I knew I was just a n00b in a shuttle and I decided that I had better readjust to reality before NOOTMARE returned from the launch of his latest line of menswear and firmly put me in my place.

A few hours later I found myself sitting around the camp fire in local, being instructed in the vast and rich history of the area by some very nice and friendly people.

I was particularly shocked to learn that these allegedly innocent victims of atrocities had been betrayed in a truly shocking manner by none other than the cult of Emilio.......

(to be continued.......)

Saturday, August 19, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 028 - Celebrity Doubles (Part 2)

Celebrity Doubles (Part 2)

My evil attacker continued to destroy my little shuttle, despite my desperate plea of "1 sec" in Local. He was clearly a mean and violent soul, tortured by years of sorrowful conflict. He mercilessly finished me off and I now found myself sitting in my pod.

Luckily, I was able to quickly warp away and to make a safespot between two asteroid belts. Some of his friends then entered the system and I noticed that they were all members of "Dirty Deeds". At that moment I could not think of a more appropriate name. I had been personally invited here as an exalted guest, and had now become the victim of a dirty deed indeed.

I suspected that a nefarious plot was brewing against me, so I decided to contact Commander Damion to see if he had been involved in this nasty ambush. He was very apologetic and promised to send an immediate armed escort to valiantly usher me the final 7 jumps. I took a moment to explore some of the more unusual stations listed on the map, whilst I awaited the arrival of my bodyguards:

Some time later, my attackers had moved on and I found myself shielded by an 8-strong armed escort of great military prowess. These were experienced pilots who displayed vast knowledge of tactical maneuvering and I couldn't help but wonder if they were about to discover that I was not the glittering celebrity they thought I was.

As they diligently marched me through the next 7 systems and showered me with adoring questions and compliments, I started to get a taste for the lifestyle of the rich and famous and I suddenly found myself wanting to demand caviar and vol-au-vents. I could feel a celebrity hissy-fit building inside me when I was told that I would have to manually click each gate in order to jump through. I was far too famous to be clicking gates and was extremely annoyed by this horrid necessity of manual work.

A short while later, I was escorted through the main town square in AZN-D2, taking a moment to signify my approval of the shining gold statue of NOOTMARE and I then proceeded to dock at "Trevor's Love Shack" and to take a luxury bubble bath of ylang ylang, jasmin and sea salts.

I inhaled the exotic fumes deeply, as strawberry beeswax candles melted seductively adjacent to my oversized bath and rose petals modestly covered my privates. My thoughts lazily drifted into sweet nothings of melodious joy....

An even greater sense of astonishment overcame me when Damion informed me that ASCN had arranged a military fly-by of capital ships, to mark my arrival in their citadel. I could barely begin to imagine such a wondrous event and was informed that the parade would begin whenever I was ready to undock. I dried myself in a luxury Egyptian camel-hair towel and prepared to take my place as guest of honour at the airshow.

By now I had become so embroiled in the whole lifestyle that there was no way I could ever stop myself from indulging. I munched on some Cote D'Azur grapes that were being hand-fed to me by several busty ASCN slave-girls and I sat back and enjoyed being showered with compliments and gifts while the flashes from the paparazzi lit up the night sky:

Various ships, a set of 5 implants, lots of mods and other miscellaneous items were thrust into my hands as my wallet continually blinked with money being thrown at me by INNUMINATE's adoring fans.

I hoped that my imposterdom would never be revealed, and as the hero-worship escalated I wondered if a high-ranking ASCN official was about to offer to polish my helmet......

I relaxed in my pod, sipping Moet & Chandon and flicking through the pages of vogue, and almost fainted out of awe and wonder as the stunning military fly-by of immense capital ships began......

(to be continued.....)

Friday, August 18, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 027 - Celebrity Doubles (Part 1)

Celebrity Doubles (Part 1)

As I pondered my next move, I received a communication from a fleet commander in a group called ASCN, informing me that I had been granted safe passage and docking rights throughout their entire region and was to be their exalted guest of honour.

Upon talking to this commander, I was also advised that he had been personally assiged to me and that he was my loyal servant, sworn by blood oath to valiantly serve and protect me on my journey south...

Naturally, this was clearly an error of identification. I concluded that there must be a famous celebrity in EVE called INNUMINATE NOOTMARE, who was away on an extended business trip to the other side of the universe.

They must have accidentally confused me with him. I wondered whether I should say anything, or if I should just take advantage of the fortuitous situation and see what happened.

I decided to do the right thing, and kept my mouth shut.....

Damion informed me that I was to be the esteemed guest of honour, at a banquet held in my name, in a system called AZN-D2, far down at the south of the map. I played along with this and decided to see how long it would take them to discover that I was not INNUMINATE and was merely a man in a shuttle.

After studying the map, I observed that the target system was a monstrous 29 jumps further south and that I was currently in the middle of pirate-central (Curse) where there had been many ship and pod kills in the past hour.

Damion offered to nobly travel the 29 jumps to come and pick me up, but I decided that this could result in him questioning me about NOOTMARE's career on the long journey back, and I would end up revealing that I was an imposter. I quickly fobbed him off and declared that I would make my own way down there.

I undocked from the station and warped to the first gate, only to discover that it was covered by a huge warp bubble. I had flown straight into a gate camp.

Luckily, this camp was designed to attack people coming through the gate, not people approaching it and after manually flying out of the bubble I was able to warp away. I made sure to make my feelings clear in the chat box:

The boy scouts who had constructed this camp remained suspiciously quiet so I decided that I would wait it out for a while, before trying again. There were no shuttles for sale at the station I was in and I was concerned that I could be left trying to fly 29 jumps in my pod. I noted the name of one of the pilots:


Some time later, local emptied out and I decided to risk making an escape. I undocked and quickly went to the gate and jumped through, only to discover that I was now to be chased by OUT4BLOOD for the next 8 jumps.

He had the advantage of having instas, whereas I had to fly 15km to every gate. He was able to keep up with me very well until we reached a system that had 4 gates, where I warped out of sight before he came through after me. He was forced to take a 1 in 3 chance to catch me and luckily he chose the wrong gate.

Another 14 jumps later and I found myself at the edge of ASCN space. I felt safe now that I was almost there. After all, they were erecting a golden statue of me in the town square, and I was "blue" to everyone whom I would encounter. (well such was the state of affairs until INNUMINATE NOOTMARE returned from his photo-shoot for Time Magazine and exposed me.)

There was another pilot in the system and it was nice to finally be amongst friends. It was so nice, in fact, that I was pleased to sit back and watch this happen:

I let out a shriek of terror as I realised I had approximately 20 seconds to get out of this situation before I was podded and sent 22 jumps back to curse.....

(to be continued...)

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 026 - Staying On The Wagon

Staying On The Wagon

In my journey so far, I had met a vast variety of unique characters, each with differing lives, and I was beginning to truly appreciate the wondrous depth and beauty of this stunning universe.

Nine jumps later, the beauty of the universe was reinforced as I was bitterly attacked by a battleship who was sitting 190km away from the gate I was heading towards. I was astonished by this because I had been led to believe that 120km was maximum range. Nonetheless, he was able to target me and fire at me from this shocking distance.

A large dose of adrenalin pulsed through me and I felt like a panther, swiftly speeding through the night, unflinching, untouchable and absolutely uncatchable, as the shrapnel splintered past my face, and I hurtled towards an uncertain future in the vast jungle of the great beyond.

I certainly felt like one cool cat as I cunningly evaded the battleship (this may have had something to do with the fact that all three hits "barely scratched me") and I joyfully jumped through the gate to live another day.

I arrived at the great market of Curse and docked:

As I browsed the vendors and inspected the vast variety of merchandise on sale, I wondered if there were great profits to be had, supplying one of the many shops here with stock. There were an amazing 7 stations in this system and they sold a large amount of goodies that were essential to most adventurers.

I had been told that it was possible to purchase a blueprint and to use it to manufacture strange and wondrous items. Apparently, many players made a good living from such activities. Perhaps I would look into this idea once I had found a safe place to base myself.

I recorded a note in my journal as a reminder of the location of this mighty bazaar and I decided that I would head further south, to see what great adventures awaited me.

A jump later, I shockingly discovered what had happened after the final Harry Potter film. I wondered if JK Rowling was aware of this surprise twist:

Perhaps he had travelled to the great market of the south, in search of some excellent new magical books, and had been heartlessly podded by muggle pirates along the way. If he had, he certainly wouldn't be the first....

Two jumps later, I docked in a station in XX9-WV and began a conversation with a pilot called Lord Jakara.

I tried not to laugh as I read his bio and discovered that he had been attending very supportive meetings where recovering pirates form a strong social network of positive reinforcement, as they desperately try not to fall off the wagon again:

I couldn't resist the opportunity and began laughing uncontrollably as I thought about his poor and tragic condition, so I asked him how the undoubtedly difficult recovery was coming along:

I genuinely felt sorry for this ex-swashbuckler. I knew it must be difficult to resist the temptation, every time a new name appeared in Local. I only wished there was something I could do to help ease his pain.

I could have sworn I heard the faint rumblings of an almighty YARRRRRRRR building in his lungs, as he desperately tried to stop his finger hovering over the missile launcher buttons in his ship. I was very tempted to fly up and down in front of him in my little shuttle, wiggling my inertial stabilisers to see if he would give in and fire.

However, I decided that if his resolve broke and he fell off the wagon, it would probably end in my podding and I could inadvertantly be the cause of a broken man.

I concluded it would be best to offer my support in this difficult time:

(to be continued..)

Thursday, August 17, 2006

The Eve Online 0.0 Experiment - Post 025- The Ultimate Sacrifice

The Ultimate Sacrifice

Upon undocking from the station, I swiftly flew to a planet and then created a bookmark in deadspace. The number of people in Local had now dropped drastically and I wondered if the bloodshed had ended.

My trusty spy informed me that he couldn't inform me what was happening. I thanked him for this invaulable information and warped to a gate. Luckily, it appeared to be clear of other pilots, so I decided to take the opportunity to make an insta from the gate, back to the station.

As I warped back in, just 15km from the station that I had, only moments ago, undocked from in my shuttle, I was ruthlessly, savagely and demoralisingly set upon by the most carnivorous bunch of lupine hounds I have ever had the misfortune of having encountered.

Naturally, I immediately warped away out of utter disgust at this clearly pointless action. They had seen me undock, so what was the purpose of killing me as I tried to redock at the very same place?

Well I mangaed to escape back to my point in deadspace and I decided that I would not let them murder me in cold blood.

I would rather heroically commit suicide than to die in such a pointless manner.

Having now issued this damning threat, I had no choice but to carry it out in the most severe and direct manner. I clicked the self destruct button on my ship and was disappointed to discover that it would take 120 eternally-long seconds to dispatch myself with a hearty pop.

It was then that it dawned on me that it would be another 120 seconds for the pod.

I had to wait 4 minutes just to kick my own bucket. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Since I had now decided that I was going to detonate myself into oblivion, I figured it wouldn't harm to ask my attackers if I could speed the process up a little.

Astonishingly, they were more than willing to provide me with helpful advice, designed to expediate my sorry demise:

After being presented with the infallible logical argument that I shouldn't be worrying about someone stealing my 9k shuttle since I was about to destroy it anyway, I decided that I would not even give them the slightest chance of taking my vessel and I violently initiated the self-destruct sequence a few seconds before then ejecting from my craft.

The result was quite spectacular and brought a tear to my eye:

I felt like a noble warrior of an age long gone by, who would sacrifice himself for a greater cause, without once flinching or erring from his steady and righteous path.

I knew that I had the upper hand over these incessant cowards who relentlessly attack n00bs in their shuttles, for no reason other than sport. I then announced to Local that I would imminently go through with the ultimate conclusion to my stunning self-euthanasia:

120 seconds later and I was back in the station, purchasing a new clone. I had defeated them and I sat back and rejoiced in my victory. Never had the sound of my pod going squish sounded so damn pleasing. I smiled relentlessly and munched on some bush-tucker.

I then entered into a conversation with a pilot called Avitar, who very kindly informed me that he had some spare ships. There were no condors for sale anywhere in this region, so it was quite fortunate (and somewhat suspicious) that Avitar was able to provide me with the following:

I concluded that Condors were like buses: You wait ages for one and then 16 all turn up at once.

As nightfall arrived, I plotted a course to a mystery station that I had been told was the ultimate shopping Mecca of the south.....

(to be continued......)