Aussie in a Hole
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Hindsight's always 20/20, isn't it? You can never be sure how wrong you'll be, how quick you'll be to eat your words. Such was the case when I heard about MCG's new survival server. Well, it wasn't new by this point. "Why would I want to play Multiplayer Survival? It's not that fun in Singleplayer, and it's hosted in America, my connection will be too poor to do anything."
Damn my idiocy!
With reluctance and expectations as low as I'd allow, I typed 'survival.mcgamer.net' and added it to my server list.
And so began my first encounter with a survival server. Or factions, whatever. I hobbled over to the rules board, as any good player does. "No trash-talking, mkay, no hacks, duh... raiding is allowed, interesting... glitching is allowed? Alright then."
After that, what more was there to do? After discovering the /kit command and filling my inventory with a few things, including the almighty weekly creeper egg ("Why do I need a creeper egg? I don't want to blow up my base." Ah, the naivety), I took to the south side of the spawn and sprinted as far as my feet and food supply would allow, gawking at the mangled terrain and it's eventual transition to something more natural. Potholes, craters and tunnels, old and new, filled the terrain. There was a jarring transition between a 'war zone', with pristine terrain and manicured trees, to what looked like an actual war zone. "The whole map's not like this, is it?"
***
'/faction AussieInAHole'
"Wait, no."
'/create AussieInAHole'
"Huh?"
'/faction create AussieInAHole'
"Oh. Duh."
Somewhere 5km south of spawn, where signs of life became comfortably rare, I hastily dug into the side of some water-filled alcove in the side of some hill and staircased down. The surface would be bustling with mobs soon, and I didn't want to be a beacon for free loot. I made my way down and lost myself in the void fog, carefully digging out holes and tunnels to hold my stock. I'd heard from someone in the chat that you can't break stuff in another person's faction, so I decided to make my own and use it for protection. So, the one man faction "AussieInAHole" was born. Clearly, the most fitting thing for an Aussie living in a hole.
"Economy? Shops? Neat!" The next several hours were all about carving out a rectangular hole as long as I could make it, and importing sand from a nearby desert to make a large sugar cane farm. Some where along the way I installed a small tree farm, some wheat, carrot and potato farms, and a secret chest for my valuables. I also worked out how to claim land, and promptly regretted my decision to dig willy-nilly instead of going for something aligned to chunks. Mineshafts were dug, diamonds and redstone collected with my awesome mining pick I lovingly named 'TesseracT' (brownie points to the reader if they get the reference!). Several hours over several days were spent shovelling and digging and expanding this Aussie's hole. Oi, get your mind out of the gutter.
***
My heart fluttered a bit. Cautious and excited, I dug a bit more stone away.
"Ah, nevermind, just a small cave."
Oh, how wrong I was! I looked to my left and found a small hole leading to a similarly small room. A hole, just like mine! Well, it was a bit smaller, with a crude lava disposal system, a nether portal recessed into a wall and a few chests, with little else. No claimed land nearby but my own.
What luck! I dug straight into someone's unclaimed base! All I was doing was expanding my main mineshaft, and found more loot than caving could ever grant. The next few minutes I sped between our respective bases, hauling back full inventories of building blocks, potions, weapons and tools, all the while knowing an angry player could come on at any time and do their best to splatter my brains on a nearby wall. But, the deed went off without a hitch. To add insult to injury, I posted a sign on one wall, where it would be easily seen, inscribed "You just got raided! lel (Don't worry, I didn't take *everything*)". Any sense of guilt was dwarfed by excitement. I had just done my first raid!
***
Four or five days had passed, and I had amassed a fair few funds. I figured it was time to move out and construct another hole, bigger and better than this one. Much bigger, with protection, grinders and all! I had quickly taken back my initial thoughts with the server; the block lag was bearable if present, the gameplay new and exciting and the thrill of raiding and trying to not be raided providing an ever-present buzz. Ah, but if I wanted to make a good base of operations, similar to ones I had seen bragged about and showcased, I needed info.
I still remember the details of a conversation I had with
Grada_MC. I posted some noob question to chat, something like "What's the best way to protect your base?", and proceeded to learn about more about the Factions plugin, what was needed to make a good base, how people could get into a base and where a good place to build it would be. Little did I know, that conversation would be the most valuable factions experience to me so far - not only did it give me more than enough information to work with, but it let me know where to find more, and ignited a lust for factions-style gameplay that would last longer than what would've been convenient.
I dismantled the farms I had, constructed a nether portal, and filled my inventory and enderchest with all the valuables and essentials. I stepped through, and said goodbye to the hole where I had made my home.
***
I was quick to develop a therapeutic pastime. Wandering. Exploring. Sitting for hours, either with silence or a good album playing, just walking or boating. Sometimes it was done with a purpose - searching for bases, or travelling to rare biomes for exotic materials. Other times, I did it for the hell of it. It was just so good, and I could never put my finger on why.
Several hours were spent travelling in the nether and in the overworld to get to the site of my next base. To my surprise, I learned that the map was finite. "Makes sense, I guess... but if I can get this far out so easily, well, so can others." A circle of radius 15km. All that would ever happen on this server contained within those bounds. When I stepped ashore a mushroom island intersecting that impassable barrier and found a stray crafting table, the map suddenly felt small. It was on.
***
A stark contrast to my building ethics mere days ago, the next base was planned meticulously. It would occupy all 12 chunks I could provide, in a 3x4 rectangle. It was to consist of a 2x1 centre storage area with the long sides occupied by farms, and the short ends reserved for mob farming and grinders. The corners were left free, to act as buffer in the case that my power dropped and I became overclaimable. Each area was to have 6 blocks unoccupied on each side to leave room for a 3-layer defense system, and the whole base was to be embedded into the bedrock as well as it could be in order to prevent anyone from getting underneath and enderpearl-glitching in.
The coordinates of the corners of each room were written down and double-checked. Armed with a pick, I dug into the ground and began carving out the second hole. Intersecting caves were plugged up and thousands of blocks were removed.
***
During one of my therapeutic meandering sessions, I found a base somewhere towards the outer edge of the map, an obscene distance from spawn. What an odd sight - an ugly box of wood and obsidian, floating high above an inlet formed in an extreme hills biome. It was a small faction - 4 or 5 people, called 'ELO' or something, run by a user with 'Asian' somewhere in their name. Ah, damned if I can remember.
Unfortunately for them, they had built their base slightly out of their claims - jackpot! I cheekily carved a hole in their obsidian shell, exposing fragile oak wood. Right next to the wall, I built a small cannon to blast a hole through which I could get in, and cause more destruction.
They had chests organised and labelled - how kind of them! I knew exactly where to place my TNT and creeper eggs. A few stacks of TNT and an hour later, and I had robbed what I could. I may have blown myself up in the process - all I remember is walking away with chests of loot, from glowstone and ice to inventories of enchanted books.
Being my mischievous self I left a sign with my name letting them know they were raided - y'know, just in case it wasn't obvious. "No hard feelings, yeah?". We later exchanged good vibes. As I would come to learn, this was unusual.
***
I never knew how great it was to be playing on a non-pay-to-win server until some time after the event. Prot 4 was a rarity for everyone, with diamond sets going for thousands. It had value. Slaving over a one-spawner zombie grinder, labouriously collecting experience and enchanting books was worth something. I can't help but miss it. There was something so satisfying about squatting in a dingy hole and making so much out of it. Thankfully, all my sales went over scam-free - I think I made over 10k this way. Not a stupid amount, but substantial nonetheless.
***
'deathsquad' looked like the noobiest faction ever. There was only a small building constructed with an appalling mix of spruce wood and netherrack (and some miscellaneous materials) to serve a faction of 10 or so. It was hardly protected at all, only some lazily placed water serving to stop cannons.
Despite my inexperience, I managed to make a hole in their roof - and while the owner was online! I donned my best gear - a set of Prot 3 armour and a Sharpness 5 Fire Aspect sword called 'Vildhjarta'. What a badass name for a sword (once again, brownie points if you get the reference). I stepped in, and found a foe clad with chain and leather armour wielding an iron sword. "Pah, too easy!"
Well, so I thought. I was still bad with the factions plugin. My chat became cluttered with 'cannot hurt a player while they are in their territory!'. "Crapcrapcrap..." Without an escape route - I had no enderpearls - I clumsily scrolled through the faction help lists. Some 20 seconds later, down to 2 hearts I typed '/f enemy deathsquad'... but, it was too late.
I think he was bragging about his new sword for some time after that. I did never get it back, although a replacement was easy enough.
***
Can't say I've ever had a brush with fame. I'm not the kind of person who follows pop culture and I hardly go outside to talk to people (too busy playing MC, y'know?). Still, I find it hard to forget a time when there was around 80 players on and
ThatOneTomahawk logged on. Granted, I wasn't a fan of him at the time, but I knew he was kind of a big deal. Few thousand subs on YouTube or something.
During the commotion, he posed a few questions to the chat. I called on my knowledge of chemistry and the sciences to try and answer one.
"Anyone know what the formula for ammonium is?", he asked.
"That's NH3+.", I answered.
"Actually, it's NH4+. NH3 is ammonia."
"Oh yeah, that's right."
The 'brush' was more like an awkward nudge than anything. I kept quiet as I usually did after that.
***
"'Unraidable?' Sounds like a challenge!" Turns out it was. I still had no clue how to properly get into bases, and there were no weak spots to cannon. Only a 3 man faction, and they had created a daunting skybase. Presumably rich. I set one of my homes there, and came by every now and again to try and figure out how to get in or to wonder into the nearby roofed forest for mushrooms.
Giving up on the idea, I sold the coordinates of the base to another person asking for a raid. He asked if I had a home set by so that I could teleport him there. "I'm not getting myself killed.". With hesitation he took to horseback to travel the several kilometers to get there, recounting his journey to me as he went.
However, a uproar in chat began. Members of the faction were arguing with those who were allegedly attempting to raid their base at that moment. So now, there was one group going in for the steal, and some guy on horseback, just by coincidence. I wound up refunding him. It seemed cruel to sell coordinates to a base that, by the time he got there, would be freshly raided.
I have little recollection of what happened, but I did notice that the faction tag had changed to 'Piss off Australians'. Still makes me giggle.
***
"'Can't resolve hostname?' Hmm, let me check the forums."
It all went down while I slept. The proverbial rug suddenly pulled out from under our feet. The details were muddy - and I guess they still are - but as I learned Dave (or someone else? Hell if I know) had come on, and wrote "By order of the Owner the server is now closed!". The server was then taken offline. Later, 'drama' was cited as the motivation. There were rumours of friendships being destroyed and personal details shared openly.
It struck me as being odd. I recalled all the positive moments - getting copious amounts of help, selling items to other players, my run-in with the owner of a faction I raided, and so many other things... Well, the staff know better than me. Laments were shared on the forums, and people eager to share screenshots, stories and videos.
The 'Survival Server' section of the forums lives on, occasionally breeding yet another thread about how to bring it back, or why. Each attempt is futile, and the 'can't resolve hostname' message persists today. I still find myself occasionally cursing, shouting to whatever is listening "why didn't I start playing earlier!?". Selfish, sure, but damn was that a lot of fun.
And that ends the recount of the first experience I had of a survival/factions server, an experience that ended too soon. This Aussie still lives in holes, just on other servers - ones unfortunately inferior to MCGamer's.
********
...sweet Jesus that's a big wall of text.
I hope someone enjoyed that server as much as I did. I don't think many people have written about it yet.
It probably won't come close to winning, but it was good fun to write regardless. Good luck to all the participants!
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