We often publish uplifting articles on here about the positive impact of games. 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.
This story’s about vengeance.
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.
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. You’re stuck on an island with limited resources, a bunch of strangers, and total anarchy. 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.