The horrifying power of MMORPGs.

For the uninitiated: MMORPG is short for Massively (or massive) Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game. They're basically multiplayer role-playing games. Tens of thousands of people (hence "massive") get to play in a virtual world at the same time over the Internet in MMORPGs. And I hate them. The MMORPGs, not the people.

Ragnarok was the first MMORPG I ever played. I hated it for the same reason most people hate something new - I couldn't understand a damn thing. From what I could make of it, I was a dwarf (not the mythological kind) who suffered from malnutrition. And I had to kill creatures of different species. How entertaining.

But that was many moons ago, and that game isn't the reason for writing this. This week, I happened to land myself in the fantasy world of an MMORPG again. Only this time, it was text-based, and addictive. I haven't the slightest idea why, though.

Achaea - Dreams of Divine Lands is the game. I've lived a major part of this week in it. I don't stop to think why I'm playing it. I just do. Even though I hate it. I've completely forgotten the art of bathing. The last time that happened was when I played Max Payne. But that was good. This is bad. Baaaad.

I've killed wildcats, bats, rats, earned lots of gold, learnt martial arts and tried living like a monk in the game. What I haven't done is check to see if I can still move my legs out here.

Luckily, there's a "suicide" option. BAM! I'm dead. I was dead. I created a new character and have started all over. Sigh...

Update: And here, yet again, is a spanking new template, created entirely by yours truly. Well, almost entirely. Best viewed in Firefox.