In Yggdrasil, players showcased a variety of playstyles. Some focused on creating powerful characters, while others embraced archetypal roles such as Heroes or Villains. Guild editing tools enhanced the role-playing experience significantly, allowing players to design everything from grand castles to eerie tombs, along with custom emblems, banners, architectural features, and distinctive aesthetics.
However, the most valuable feature was the ability to create NPCs (non-player characters), enabling role-players to develop personalized minions or companions. Players could customize nearly every aspect: race, gender, class, skills, and more. Most importantly, they could craft detailed backstories and descriptions for these characters. While many NPCs served as guild guardians to fend off raiders, there were no restrictions against creating them solely for combat purposes.
Within the player community, some constructed intricate structures based on reference materials like photographs or videos, while others, less focused on power or role-playing, simply enjoyed creating artistic works for public appreciation. There were no prohibitions against crafting miniatures of characters or elements from other games.
I'm Elijah O'Donnell, a member of a guild dedicated to recreating a game we cherished. While other guilds attempted similar projects—some with success, others without—the process was intricate and required meticulous refinement. Understandably, many struggled with this endeavor. We were among the select few guilds to complete the project! However, our recreation was neither flawless nor fast; some elements required world items, there were floor limitations, and we faced several conflicts. Despite these challenges, the effort proved worthwhile, as we successfully recreated nearly the entire game from its foundation.
We were fortunate that another guild shared the landscape editing artifact; without it, the task would have been far more daunting, potentially causing us to abandon the project. Although we encountered issues with equipment—some members used guns, which created complications—these were resolved in the new DLC that introduced the Automaton race, enabling us to finalize the characters.
Though we recreated them out of admiration for the original game, there were times we considered abandoning the project. Thankfully, we persevered, as our creation ultimately justified all our efforts. We tested our creations during raids, and to our surprise, they proved remarkably effective. Through them, we established a reputation as a formidable player, largely due to the distinctive design of our minions. We also enjoyed competing with other guilds through our character designs, adopting eccentric or dark aesthetics that unsettled other players.
However, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. After years of operation, Yggdrasil was scheduled to shut down. Our guild experienced declining membership; some members prioritized real-life commitments, while others sought more active guilds. Unfortunately, guilds often lose members or even disband when engagement opportunities diminish.
Our guild took the name of the primary organization from the game. We aimed to integrate the mechanics and characteristics of monsters from Ruvik's fractured mind into our gameplay, achieving considerable success. Designing each character—the Keeper, Laura, Sadist, Stefano, and many others—was a genuinely enjoyable experience. We briefly considered adding characters without special abilities or those who weren't monsters but ultimately decided against it. For instance, we excluded Sebastian Castellanos because he was an ordinary person trying to escape STEM and rescue his daughter. Julie Kidman was also omitted, as she primarily evaded confrontation rather than engaging in combat. As a result, we streamlined our database, eliminating unnecessary characters.
We designed our environment to resemble a psychiatric hospital, crowned with an imposing Beacon. One section recreated the residences of Ruben and Laura Victoriano. We constructed workspaces inspired by the office from the Julie Kidman DLC, replicated Tatiana's chamber, and created a room housing a device resembling STEM. The creation process was extensive, but once completed, our satisfaction was immeasurable.
By activating the device, we drew all players within our base into a pocket dimension, courtesy of an artifact, preventing their escape until the machine deactivated—something no one had successfully achieved. To deactivate it, one would need to understand its mechanics, which no one did. It served as a last-resort defense against raids, but after use, it required an extended recharge period and caused unexplained migraines.
Some game masters took notice of our base and offered assistance. For example, when creating the Keeper, we struggled to implement a revival mechanism. They granted him the ability to reappear from any safe, provided it matched the specific model he wore on his head or a replica; otherwise, the function failed. While some may have considered this unfair, our intent was simply to faithfully recreate characters from the original game. Additionally, production costs were high; crafting even a few safes required substantial resources, as the necessary materials were scarce.
"Those were good times," I said, seated in the Victorian family estate. I wore a black raincoat, gloves, black boots, and a gas mask with red lenses, my features obscured by a hood. "It's regrettable to bid farewell to all this." Rising, I wandered through the rooms. "So much has transpired, so many stories, and now it concludes."
I arrived at the psychiatric hospital and observed the cells housing my creations. "How I'll miss you all," I reflected. The rooms contained various individuals driven to madness by the game; some were restrained with wires, others submerged in white liquid. Approaching a beautiful mirror, I pressed my hand against it lightly, shattering the glass in a flash of light. Suddenly, I found myself in a room with several chambers and a reception desk, where Tatiana sat.
Tatiana was assigned to manage and monitor all NPCs from a concealed room with a single entrance. The mirrors presented challenges; despite available teleportation magic, implementing it properly proved difficult. These mirrors facilitated fast travel, with Tatiana's department serving as the primary destination. Guards stationed there could introduce unexpected variables in battle. We decided against confining them to specific territories, ensuring they appeared only when needed to surprise intruders. While challenging to implement, this approach proved highly effective and required significant effort to maintain.
Ruvik was a mage summoner specializing in speed and surprise attacks, primarily striking from behind or summoning monsters for assistance. Among these creatures were Laura and the Sadist, formidable opponents for those unfamiliar with their tactics.
The Sadist typically approached from behind, targeting stragglers. He would transport them to specialized trap-filled rooms designed to ensure their demise, though, for amusement, we always included one escape route. Near traps, he wouldn't kill players outright but would inflict wounds that impaired movement. It was entertaining to watch players debate whether to save or abandon their companions. Perhaps our enjoyment of this labels us as psychopaths—a characterization not entirely inaccurate.
Laura was virtually immortal but exceptionally vulnerable to fire. Upon first encountering her, players were so intimidated that they complained to game masters about her being an overpowered NPC. During one raid, however, someone instinctively threw a torch at her and noticed her evasive reaction, as if fearful. Eventually, players discovered her vulnerability to ranged attacks. Her mere presence terrified them; her wheezing immediately captured their attention. The emotions they experienced were quite amusing. As they progressed, hearing her approach, they would exclaim, "Why us? Did you specifically target us?" eliciting laughter from our guild. This evolved into, "We'll burn you again! This time, not even ashes will remain!" after she provoked their ire. Now regarded as the most irritating enemy, her specific weakness to fire frustrates players, who generally despise opponents requiring particular defeat methods.
Our masterpiece was "The Keeper." Always vigilant near the treasury, we designed a maze with gas traps and numerous safes, causing intruders to panic and become disoriented, often leading to their demise. While safes were distributed throughout the base, the highest concentration surrounded the vault as a contingency should he perish. Upon his death, everyone would hear the sound of flesh reconstituting as he emerged from a safe, creating a new body—a realization that came too late for many. Sometimes players attempted to imprison him, but he would simply terminate himself to escape confinement. He would guard our treasures until the safes were depleted, signifying his permanent death. However, creating new safes could resurrect him, though producing these safes was exceedingly difficult. Repairing broken ones conserved resources but required considerable time.
We implemented another frustrating mechanic—Laura's spawn mechanism—which has never been activated... yet. Designed as a theft deterrent, after safes in a room were breached, she would emerge from the iron box on her back. Despite numerous tests, this feature consistently malfunctioned! Either she would appear after each death, fail to appear entirely, or manifest continuously... an absolute disaster!
Ruvik possessed another intriguing aspect through an NPC named Leslie Withers, whose function was to provide hints while running around. Occasionally, Ruvik himself would inhabit Leslie's body, leaving players uncertain whether to trust him. It was amusing to observe players following him, as he attracted enemies. While his hints were valuable, they required deciphering due to his incomprehensible speech. His tendency to repeat words frustrated many players.
Stefano Valentini, an assassin, frequently utilized our proudest creation—an artifact that generated time loops capturing moments preceding death. These frozen tableaux were often striking and aesthetically powerful, prompting debates among players about which demise was most visually compelling. The camera itself was an artifact we developed, based on an antique accordion camera. We experimented with temporal spells to achieve the desired effect. If the frozen individual wasn't killed, the effect eventually dissipated, restoring movement. He typically appeared in our museum, where we displayed various statues and portraits.
The museum expressed our artistic vision: some chose classical works, others more visceral art. This space was truly remarkable, patrolled by Obscura—a three-legged creature with an accordion camera for a head. Though capable of killing intruders, she often photographed them instead, freezing them in place. She utilized wires to suspend herself from the ceiling, substituting for hands and frequently employed these wires offensively to immobilize or lacerate targets.
Father Theodore, a magician accompanied by his retinue, specialized in fire and mind magic. His mental spells inflicted various debuffs and mild disorientation, though their effects were somewhat limited. During his creation, we debated classifying him as a pyromancer or summoner, ultimately designating him a wizard supported by four harbingers, including Liam O'Neal. All harbingers possessed fire resistance and wielded flamethrowers, with O'Neal distinguished by his lack of a mask.
He appeared when players reached "safe" zones, offering assistance with a significant caveat: those accepting his help became energized and transformed into harbingers, terrifying others who feared a losing situation. Those accepting his propositions were teleported to the entrance with an afterburn effect, compelling them to flee our base. We maintained records of escapees, who were subsequently hunted by Sentinels.
These Sentinels pursued and eliminated fugitives methodically before returning home. This mechanism was challenging to implement, but Game Masters assisted. The consequence was our inability to resurrect those who fell outside, so we repurposed them as hounds to track remaining escapees. Creating NPCs required enormous resources, and programming them was tedious and intricate, necessitating careful design considerations.
While some characters required no special approach, this wasn't true for the twins, Neun and Zehn. These twins would flee at any opportunity and attack upon spotting someone, though one was blind. Occasionally, Neun would look toward players but remain inactive if they maintained silence. It was amusing to witness one twin shout, causing everyone to slowly turn toward him and then to Neun. A single sound would send him charging toward areas where players typically crawled.
They weren't the only wanderers; the truly elusive one was the Shade. She constantly roamed the area, randomly altering locations near Mobius symbols. Frequent visitors recognized her presence and the danger she represented, primarily because she would sound alarms upon detecting nearby intruders. Alone, she would pursue and consume you. Upon discovering targets, she would scream, attracting Neun and Zehn, who were formidable opponents. Defeating them drained entire groups' resources, inadvertently creating a Survival Horror experience—quite ironic.
We may have disheartened players by recreating the Guardian—a collection of interconnected corpses with a powerful arm replacement. She appears only when numerous psycho corpses accumulate nearby. Game Masters appreciated this mechanic and incorporated it into undead characters. Consequently, players strategized territorial navigation, as excessive enemy kills would summon a mini-boss capable of significantly depleting health and mana reserves.
"You are all so charming," I said, surveying the room. "You terrified the players. Even Yggdrasil veterans approached you cautiously." I recalled how some had quarreled mid-raid and considered surrendering.
Though formidable, none breached our final defenses or seized our most valuable items. Some discovered Tatiana's department and discussed it on forums without revealing access methods, which benefited us as it remained a genuinely safe zone. Certain units knew this location but kept it confidential, aware that disclosure would attract crowds. Consequently, they utilized it only for retreats or respites.
A chair provided temporary buffs at the cost of health reduction, aiding during raids but forcing strategic decisions: buffs or health preservation?
Scanning the ward, I noticed an unfamiliar figure sitting in darkness behind a closed door. "I don't recall anyone creating you," I said, studying him carefully. After a moment, I recognized Ivan Diaz, the reporter—a parting gift from guildmates. "You're always here, it seems. I hope you find an exit." I checked the available menu options.
My capabilities were limited; his description indicated potential for valuable information, though this seemed unlikely due to game restrictions. "I'm glad someone will record everything." With that, I approached the mirror and shattered it.
After Tatiana's chamber, I ascended to the base's summit, reaching the Lighthouse itself. Though primarily decorative and lacking the original game's impact, its construction was challenging. The area's frequent fog made the lighthouse an invaluable navigational aid. Previously, people wandered, often circling; after its establishment, navigation improved significantly. In appreciation for our efforts, we received unsolicited items. During raids, one crucial rule prevailed: DO NOT TOUCH THE BEACON! Some believed it contained valuables, but in reality, damaging it made them targets due to repair difficulties. Despite its size, the mechanism was delicate, and offenders faced relentless pursuit and elimination, with rival guilds occasionally uniting to hunt them. I sympathized with them, but they ultimately precipitated their fate.
Another guild, Ainz Ooal Gown, frequently assisted with resource supplies. Most resources they required were available in our vicinity, so we permitted a nearby teleporter installation to facilitate access. Guilds often assisted with requests; the key was preventing arrangement abuse.
"You've served admirably," I said, watching the rotating spotlight. "You've helped many, and I hope you continue after the shutdown." With that, I turned and departed.
I decided to explore what others had left behind, as Ivan wasn't the only addition. To my surprise, I found Marcelo Jimenez in Beacon's chief physician's office. I resolved to investigate typically avoided areas but encountered no new NPCs.
Finally, I returned to the Victorian house. The place was beautiful, and I decided to conclude my adventure there. The countdown reached five minutes.
"I suppose it's time to leave." I approached the gramophone and placed a record on it.
As music filled the air, I settled into a chair, appreciating the melodies. I have no particular musical preference; I love all forms, as each reveals itself uniquely. Some seemingly lighthearted songs convey somber lyrics. Musical interpretation varies significantly depending on performance style. Ultimately, music is art, and art is inherently subjective.
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"So much has transpired," I reflected, gazing into the distance, recalling countless memories. "I can't believe this concludes now," I said sadly. "But as they say, every story has an ending." The countdown approached completion. "Well, I hope they launch a new game that maintains the enjoyment." Ten seconds remained.
As the music ceased, time expired. When the record ended, everything faded to darkness.
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