Obtain vanilla game as 11-year-old in first flower of life's nerdiness. Disk comes packaged in one of those massive 90s-era retail boxes I used to love so dearly. Install and log in after requisite persuading of parental pocketbook, in those days when trusting a web company with CC info still terrified most adults.
Choose server at random, roll dwarf paladin, put all points into DEX for reasons lost to history. Spend one hour turning in note and escaping Kaladim. Approach a bat, begin mashing buttons, figure out that 'a' is somehow associated with combat. Spam 'a' for a solid two minutes trying to attack, despite message in chat box clearly stating, "Auto-attack on." Certain portions of the 11-year-old noodle not yet online. Eventually triumph over bat. Usual newb stuff for another hour or two, time for dinner. Cannot figure out how to exit game. Mash many buttons in many different orders. Click SIT then CAMP but exclaim that I don't want to prepare a camp, I want to EXIT, darn it. Become totally pissed and distraught at this game that won't let me log out, even as my parents call from downstairs what the heck is taking so long. Spam more buttons until, in one last moment of defiance, I decide fuck it, if you want me to CAMP I'll CAMP. Escape.
Next day, realize I have no clue what server I'd rolled on, choose Drinal at total random. From this point on, memory little more than a kaleidoscope of pixels ground and twisted to the MIDI lyres of the Faydark.
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