![]() ![]() ![]() We were left broken and defenceless, having lost nearly all of our loot in one fell swoop. We were stuck in this death cycle for a good 30 minutes, and our pleas for the aggressors to stop - made over both mic and in-game chat - went completely unheard.Įventually, the attackers became tired of toying with us, and finally decided to leave us alone. Having lost all my weapons on the far side of the mountain, I was left only with spare bows, and the situation soon became farcical when my friend and I repeatedly ventured outside - completely naked - only to be mowed down by assault rifles. This is when our base's location really hurt us: with the mountain ridges forming a near circle around the house, for the attackers it was like shooting fish in a barrel. My friend made it back with his loot, but in doing so unwittingly led the marauders straight to our door. One of us didn't make it: me, and I woke up inside our woefully-designed base. What we didn't realise was the snowy backdrop also meant the snipers below had an uninterrupted view of us.īefore we knew what was happening, bullets were exploding all around, and we scrambled back down the mountain to our house. Having reached the snowline, we had an uninterrupted view of the island - which, in theory, would allow us to plan our next moves. One day, our adventures took us to the top of our neighbouring mountain. I no longer have a photo of the base (as the servers get wiped every month), but this is effectively where we were located. Yet we grew restless and, tired of our peaceful abode, we started to push the boundaries in search of other settlements. We didn't trust them enough to let them in the house.Ī few weeks passed without incident, allowing us to get to grips with the basic mechanics and venture out to nearby monuments to grab the occasional item of rare loot. We even adopted another noob and built them a small shack next to ours. Still, it was our home, and my friend and I had great fun decorating the place and exploring the area. It was picturesque and completely impractical: with few clear lines of sight, enemies could sneak up over the mountain ridge, while the base itself was only one wall thick and could quite easily be blown apart. In the beginning, our first base was a small mountain chalet located slightly above a stream. Disclaimer: this story is from about three years ago, which may mean some mechanics are now out of date. But as the saying goes, it's about the journey, and in the process we became the protagonists of a highly satisfying revenge story. To get to that point, however, we had to learn the hard way. ![]() By the time we wrapped up our Rust sessions, my friends and I had constructed impenetrable towers, taken down enemy bases, and produced wall art slightly above caveman level. It sounds like hell (and sometimes was), but clubbing together to survive that absurd environment was a lot of fun. It's Machiavellian power struggle combined with trolling, as I discovered during my first week when I logged in to find myself naked, my shack blown open and "nice base, noob" written on the wall. You're stuck on an island with limited resources, a bunch of strangers, and total anarchy. Rust is one of the few multiplayer games where everyone is an arsehole, and the unwritten aim is to be as big an arsehole as possible. Specifically, it's about my adventures in Rust, the survival sim which had a big moment a few years ago and has quietly but consistently bubbled away on Steam ever since. Whether that be a Skyrim-playing grandma immortalised in the next Elder Scrolls game, or a memorial to a modder's dog - games have an incredible power to heal and soothe. We often publish uplifting articles on here about the positive impact of games. ![]()
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