Barliona: a virtual world jam-packed with monsters, battles - and, predictably, players. Millions of them come to Barliona, looking forward to the things they can't get in real life: elves and magic, dragons and princesses, and unforgettable combat. The game has become so popular that players now choose to spend months online without returning home. In Barliona, anything goes: You can assault fellow players, level up, become a mythical hero, a wizard, or a legendary thief. The only rule that attempted to regulate the game demanded that no player be allowed to feel actual pain. But there's an exception to every rule. For a certain bunch of players, Barliona has become their personal hell. They are criminals sent to Barliona to serve their time. They aren't in it for the dragons' gold or the abundant loot. All they want is to survive the virtual inferno. They face the ultimate survival quest.
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OMG. Commodore 64 is alive
NO. Imagine, if you will, hearing a 15 year old describe in excruciating detail his exquisitely boring time mining rocks in a pixelated universe. It was fascinating only insofar as you had the earphones in your ears watching--well, listening--to an inevitable train wreck. You're waiting and waiting and waiting...and the train just stalls out and comes to an unimpressive halt. If you want to listen to some kid relate, in excited tones, playing what can only be an antiquated game (because it takes soooooooo long to move along), this is for you. But be told, it'll be like listening to that interminable screeching brrping sound as you waited for more game to load and find out its more pixelated boredom on a bun. I cannot for the life of me figure out where all these great ratings are from: the narrator was great, but simply could not make this into anything other than it is: an unimaginative and painstaking relation of someone else's mindnumbingly boring game.
He could have read Ready Player One, any Drew Hayes, Otherworld Dreams--in other words, any decent book based on this premise and imitate the hell out of it. Because if this is as good as he gets, he's got an imagination like mashed potato.
None, but this wasn't the fault of the narrator, who was excellent. But even he couldn't make this into anything other than the literary disappointment that it truly was.
Nope. Nope-ity nope nope.
Move along. There's nothing to see here. Unless you're fifteen and still playing with an OS I thought died out before most of this guy's readership were born. And don't be fooled by the cover art, which implied an intelligent game with some intrigue or, well. . .plot.
Excellent with just one regret...