Once upon a time, there was a magical world with quaint medieval villages, wizards, dragons, epic battles and romances, but it all came to an end--on Aug. 31, 2000.

That's when the plug got pulled on "Meridian 59," the first and much beloved online game where people from around the globe could meet to play out elaborate fantasy scenarios or just check in with friends, the vast majority of whom they would never meet in real life.

The world of Meridian was shut down by game giant 3DO Co. in the face of competition from more elaborate and technologically advanced online games, such as "Ultima Online" and "EverQuest." But in the virtual world, death is not always final.

Hundreds of veteran fans, as well as newbies entering "M59" for the first time, have been flocking to a mysterious unauthorized Russian site to continue the now somewhat primitive adventures that are the hallmark of a service created six years ago, an eternity in Internet development time.

American players also have found their way to little-known non-English versions of the game run by Germans and South Koreans in a last attempt to hold on to their world.

The Meridian community today is a pitiful shadow of its former self, with just a few hundred players scattered across the globe.

But for those who had invested a bit of their souls in Meridian, the survival of their world is a hopeful sign that as long as the bits and bytes exist, a piece of their dreams can persist.

Meridian's fate will eventually befall other online worlds as they become outdated, surpassed by newer realms with sharper graphics and more elaborate adventures. If they're lucky, the die-hard fans will find a way to keep their waning worlds alive too. But "M59"

had a homeyness that made its fans' devotion especially heartfelt.

"It's totally cool that it lives on," said Andrew Kirmse, who created "M59" with his brother Chris. "The graphics may be from 1995, but the real reason people still go there is to be with their friends. It's all about community."

"M59" was special, at least in part, because it was the first graphical role-playing game in which players interacted online as animated characters. But it's far from the most commercially successful--current online RPGs such as Microsoft's "Asheron's Call," Sony's "EverQuest," and Electronic Arts' "Ultima Online" often have tens of thousands of people playing them at a time. "M59" rarely had more than a few hundred.

"The big games are so large that you don't get to know individual people nearly as much," said longtime "M59" player Rick Costa, 28, of Colorado Springs. "You can walk for days through different areas and never see anyone you know. Meridian was Mayberry."

"M59" grew so complex that players could develop characters with subtle personality quirks and carefully honed powers, all while accumulating life-protecting powers, weapons, fighting skills and the ability to cast magic spells. Building a finely honed character could take weeks or even months.

Greg Shaver, 34, played almost from opening day. "In the early years, I would be on there for eight to 10 hours a day--it was insane. We would form guilds, have big battles. I met wonderful people," said Shaver, a Web master in Atlanta.

Jerry Hobby, 38, an account manager for EDS in Houston, was recently on the Russian server as Chesira, a character he had long honed as a helper, especially to newbies.

"She's a real sweetheart," Hobby said. "On the other hand, I've raised an assassin who was a killing machine."

Killing and death were certainly at the center of Meridian's culture, but even the mayhem led to people connecting with others.

"I met the first American I ever spoke to in my life, " said Robert Pike, now a student at Durham University in England. "Had a chat, followed him outside and was promptly killed by him casting the Earthquake spell."

Love also bloomed. Jennifer Keltcher-Delisle of Kansas City became so close to another "M59" player that they had a virtual wedding in 1988, "with Guide Snowflake performing the ceremony." Their love transcended the virtual--later that year the two met in person and eventually married in the real world.

It all added up to a place that was less a game than a world where inhabitants created new lives and relationships they thought would go on forever.

Then it all seemed to come to an end.

Within a short period, some players discovered that 3DO had licensed the game to German and South Korean companies that put out versions in those languages.

"There were a lot of desperate 'Meridian' players who went to the German server to get their fix," Costa said. "Luckily, there were players there who could speak English."

Costa recently ventured onto the Korean server, where after much trial and error he managed to get into the game. He was told by English speakers that he was the only non-Korean-speaking player to ever venture onto the server.

"The hour I spent on the Korean server reminded me of how great 'Meridian 59' is," he said. "I had people staring at me in total curiosity, many people trying to be friendly and communicate with me. A couple guys were chanting 'U.S.A' repeatedly."

Just a few weeks after the U.S. shutdown, an unauthorized English-language "M59" popped up on a Russian site. 3DO officials said in a recent interview they were not only unaware of the Russian outpost for "M59," they didn't know how its operators could have gotten a copy of the game's computer code.

However it was obtained, it works perfectly well even though it is free. "From what I've seen, the players are about 50% Americans, 25% Russian and the rest from everywhere else. The fact that it's alive again and free has brought people out of the woodwork," Costa said. E-mail by e-mail, the word spread that an English "M59" had been reborn somewhere in Russia.

The refugees have found a world that is much smaller in population but looks identical. For many, it's a homecoming.

"There was a time I joined 'Ultima Online' and then I also went to 'EverQuest,' " Hobby said. "But I came back to 'Meridian' and the people there. You develop relationships you don't want to give up."

But for others, there is no replacement for the original "Meridian 59" and its old guard--with their bitter rivalries and sworn allegiances.

"I never went to any of the other role-playing games," Shaver said. "I just didn't have it in my heart."

That a game should evoke so much passion is a grand achievement, especially considering its humble roots.

The Kirmses started to play online games in the mid-1980s when they were both in junior high school.

Their favorite was "Scepter of Goth," a multi-player fantasy that was, like all online games at the time, purely text. Players would type, for example, "north" to take one step in that direction and the computer would tell them that they were walking toward a castle and could pick up a weapon.

In the early 1990s, when both brothers were interns at Microsoft, they began to develop a way to add graphics to an RPG. In late 1995 they uploaded their crude first test of "M59."

"It was just one small town with an inn and a place where you would go out to kill monsters," said Andrew Kirmse, who had just gotten his master's degree in computer science and was living in his parents' basement.

"The night before the alpha test went online my brother and a designer stayed up until 4 a.m., madly adding a hidden quest. It's something we figured people would not find for a few days."

After getting a couple hours of sleep, the Kirmses awoke to find their new world already had been discovered. "One guy had already been everywhere, killed all the monsters and did the quest." Kirmse said. "He told us it was the greatest thing ever."

The game expanded quickly during this free testing period, and less than a year after the basement project began, 3DO--one of the major game developers--stepped in to buy it. In October 1996, "M59" made its commercial debut, requiring players to make a one-time purchase of software for about $50 and pay a monthly $10 subscription fee.

No such fairy-tale ending was in store for "M59." The Kirmse brothers felt they never fit into the corporate culture of 3DO. "We didn't get the support--more artists, more resources--that they said we were going to get," Andrew Kirmse said. They left the company in 1997.

For its part, 3DO officials said the game was never the commercial success they hoped it would be. "By the time we shut it down, I think it had only about 300 users," said Mike Meyers, a 3DO spokesman. "It didn't even support the cost of the server to keep it going."

On the day it was shut down, many of the old-timers returned to say goodbye to virtual friends and trade stories of battles lost and won. "It was in the middle of the afternoon when it suddenly all came to an end," said Andrew Kirmse. "The screen went blank and on came a message that the connection to the server had been lost."

Though the disconnection was a shock to many players, some accepted it as a natural cycle of life and death.

Shaver said he spent so much time in Meridian that when it died, it gave him an opportunity to focus on his real life again.

"I have an addictive personality," Shaver said. "When 'Meridian' shut down, I said I would not go back. I'm a married man now, with kids. My wife would divorce me."

Times staff writer David Colker covers personal technology.

Source: David Colker, LA Times - David.colker@latimes.com