Let me set the scene. There I am, standing at The River, looking every bit as enthusiastic as someone who has just been handed a dentist appointment reminder. The cherry blossoms are gorgeous, the Easter décor is adorable, the vibe is genuinely lovely, and I am already internally sighing. Because it is a hunt. And I do not do hunts. Or rather, I do them the way some people do marathons, technically completing the thing while questioning every life choice that led them here, all in the support of Relay for Life in SL. No matter though, I absolutely, unconditionally support people and their creative ideas in Second Life. So there I was. I landed with the grace and confidence of a woman who had absolutely not Googled “how to survive an egg hunt with your dignity intact.” I spotted eggs immediately, which honestly surprised me, and I began clicking with the sort of reckless abandon of someone who assumes they understand the rules. I did not understand the rules.
After a solid few minutes of clicking eggs into what I assumed was the void, the SL universe tapped me on the shoulder and whispered that I might be doing this wrong. Sure enough, I was supposed to collect a basket first. A basket. At the beginning. Before the clicking. This is information that would have been lovely to have earlier if I would have bothered to read the blue pop up menu and get the instructions instead of JUST the basket, but here I was, doing a full reset, walking back to the start with the energy of a woman on her third attempt at assembling flat-pack furniture.
White basket firmly in hand, off I went again.
Now, at this point I discovered the true villain of this story, and it is not the hunt format, although the hunt format and I are not on speaking terms. No, the real antagonist is the rotten egg mechanic, which, as best I can understand it, was designed by someone who genuinely dislikes people having nice things. You click a rotten egg, and it removes a perfectly good, healthy, collectible breakfast egg from your basket. An egg you already earned. An egg you clicked with your own pulsating digital hand. Gone. Just like that. I would like to have a word with whoever invented this system, and I would like that word to be several words, none of them printable here.
And yet. I persevered. I collected all nine eggs, which took considerably longer than nine eggs should take when factoring in the ongoing basket sabotage happening at regular intervals. My collection grew. My patience thinned. The cherry blossoms remained unbothered and beautiful, completely indifferent to my suffering.
Then came the golden egg. The final prize. The finish line.
I searched that area with my eyes. I searched it with my feet. I searched it with what remained of my will to live, and then I did what any sensible person does at the end of a long journey: I used area search. Yes. I cheated. I located the golden egg via slightly technical means, clicked it without shame, and collected my prize.
A Viking. Not a tall, breathing, historically accurate digital knight ready to throw himself at my feet in devotion and defend my honor, unfortunately, but an absolutely delightful little attachment Viking who is now going to live somewhere prominent in my inventory, reminding me occasionally that I earned him the hard way, or at least the creative way.
The River Egg Hunt Destination itself is genuinely stunning. The setting is all soft blossoms and Easter charm and the kind of peaceful scenery that makes you forget you just spent an unreasonable amount of time losing eggs to an invisible thief.
Back home, blogging about it, I realize I still dislike hunts.
The River Egg Hunt LM / SLURL
http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/The%20River/8/11/2510
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