Python Learning Project: Evennia

As you can tell by my mug shot, I’m someone who likes to tell stories about the good ol’ days.

I taught kids to program computers for my first job at a “Computer Camp” over the summer at a ski resort in Southern Utah. I was sixteen, and after teaching myself how to program Apple ][ computers, I attempted to teach other kids how by writing Basic statements on a small white board, while the kids (only a few years younger than me) would type them in. Then I helped debug their typing mistakes.

The camp counselor brought some computer magazines. Before the Internet, one way of sharing programs was typing the printed code associated with the article. I was particularly interested in an article that described how to build a text adventure game.

You see, after destroying my Dungeons and Dragons books during the Great Satanic Panic of 1980, a text adventure game returned that feeling of imaginative exploration. They were called “text” because the microcomputers at the time had limited graphics, and so they described their fictional world a piece at a time:

You wake up. The room is spinning very gently round your head. Or at least it would be if you could see it which you can’t. It is pitch black.

These games allowed you to type commands to affect these fictional worlds…

> turn on light

Which then responded due to your actions…

Good start to the day. Pity it’s going to be the worst one of your life. The light is now on.

While Fabulously difficult, the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy became my favorite. I spent countless hours trying to get that damn Babel Fish so I could understand the strange language of the Vogons:

> press dispenser button

A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and through a small hole in the wall, just under a metal hook.

What would go on a hook? Surely, not my clothes …

> remove gown

Okay, you’re no longer wearing your gown.

> hang gown on hook

The gown is now hanging from the hook, covering a tiny hole.

I suppose I began this game in such a hurry, I didn’t have time to properly dress, but let’s see if that works before a breeze gives me the flu:

> press dispenser button

A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, vanishing through the graiting of a hitherto unnoticed drain.

Hilarious. Almost worked. What could I use to cover the grate? Of course, this is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and I have my trusty towel:

> put towel on grate

The towel completely covers the drain.

> press dispenser button

A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, landing on the towel. A split second later, a tiny cleaning robot whizzes across the floor, grabs the fish, and continues its breakneck pace toward a tiny robot panel at the base of the wall. The robot zips through the panel and is gone.

Cleverly worded games like this drew me into this imaginative world. The machine only contains four fish, so each progressive victory was punctuated by typing save, so that you could restore a previous state.

My sleeping friend, Ford Prefect, might have something I could use to cover the panel:

> put satchel in front of panel

Okay, the satchel is lying on its side in front of the tiny robot panel.

> press dispenser button

A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, landing on the towel. A split second later, a tiny cleaning robot whizzes across the floor, grabs the fish, and continues its breakneck pace toward a tiny robot panel at the base of the wall. The robot plows into the satchel, sending the babel fish flying through the air in a graceful arc. A small upper-half-of-the-room cleaning robot flies into the room, catches the babel fish (which is all the flying junk it can find), and exits.

At this point, when my friend and I were playing it, we were both laughing and crying, as we spent an hour trying to figure which object would work, but the god of the game required another sacrifice of time.

Good thing, I grab the mail from my house at the beginning of the game. One quickly learns to grab everything not nailed down…otherwise, you had to restart the game.

> put mail on satchel

Okay, the loose pile of junk mail is now sitting on the satchel.

> press dispenser button

A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, landing on the towel. A split second later, a tiny cleaning robot whizzes across the floor, grabs the fish, and continues its breakneck pace toward a tiny robot panel at the base of the wall. The robot plows into the satchel, sending the babel fish flying through the air in a graceful arc surrounded by a cloud of junk mail. Another robot flies in and begins madly collecting the cluttered plume of mail. The babel fish continues its flight, landing with a loud “squish” in your ear.

Imagine the lows of typing wrong commands to the highs of entering that sequence correctly.

Make sure to enjoy the poetry.

Like this Apple II computer from 1984 my favorite game is called a text adventure game. This game called the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, I’ll give you a view of what you were interacting with.

After walking through an antique store with my son, telling them about the intricate series of command, you would have to type in order to get the Babel Fish, he returned the next day. He bought it for me as a holiday present.

Programming this wee beastie is a challenge, as the original Apple II didn’t have up and down arrow keys.

• Make a toy shop of sorts
• 7 sided die