I used to play Horizons, and when I wasn't gallumphing about the countryside as a land-bound dragon-cat, I played Bashev.  Bashev was a lowly blacksmith whose great dream in life was to become a mason and build grand, sweeping palaces.

Unfortunately you need a stoneworking skill of 150 before you can become a mason, so Bashev slaved away.  He made tons of money selling tools to young crafters, but it was an empty pleasure.  All he could think of, all that drove him was the thought of walls, and forts, and mansions.

Well, that and naked men. For reasons Bashev never understood, there were usually naked men running around the crafting zones.  He had no idea why anyone would craft in their briefs; he was sure that it invited sparks in very tender places.  But there was no denying the fact that many, many men seemed to craft in the buff.  Bashev kept his clothes on and tried to ignore the sweaty, naked men jostling him at the anvil.

Finally the day came when he turned 17th level and his stoneworking popped above 150.  Filled with joy, Bashev presented himself to Hilary the Mason Trainer and told her he'd like to join the mason's guild.  To his shock, Hilary informed the young smith he wasn't good enough to be a mason.  After a bit of checking I discovered that your base stoneworking skill, not your actual skill, had to be 150.  Translation: I needed two more levels.

Crushed, Bashev abandonned his mercantile pursuits.  He locked himself up in an isolated wood-mill north of Mahagra and proceeded to make hundreds and thousands of wooden spatulas, sure that this would impress Hilary.  Days later, when the forests had been clear-cut for miles around Mahagra, Bashev emerged from the wood-mill.  Dazed, covered in saw-dust... but 19th level, with a base stoneworking of 150 (and I'm not going to try to explain how making spatulas increases stoneworking; some things RPing just can't handle...)

Once more, Bashev travelled to Dalimond.  Once more, he found Hilary and begged her to accept him as a mason.  "Are you sure that you wish to join the Mason Guild?" Hilary asked him somberly.  I clicked yes...

...and all of a sudden, Bashev's standing there, stark naked.  All the beautiful cargo armor he'd bought has vanished.  His clothes have vanished.  He's wearing nothing but a polka-dot speedo.

"WTF?!?!?" I yowl.

As I scrolled up frantically, it became clear what had happened.  When you switch to an advanced class, like mason, your level drops to 1.  My equipment required level 4.  So it automatically unequipped itself and went into my backpack.  My mind quickly put two and two together.  I can't wear my armor until I'm higher level.  I can't gain levels until I craft
things... which means I'm going to be running around the crafting areas, stark naked, for the next several levels...  The Mystery of the Naked Men in the Smithy had been solved.

But what cracked me up was thinking about this from a role-playing view...

"Are you sure that you wish to become a mason?" Hilary said, her eyes lingering on the young man's bronze forearms.

"Yes," Bashev swore. "I'd do anything to be a mason."

"Anything?" A cold smile twisted the corners of the Mason-trainer's mouth.  "Let's test that, shall we?"

The camera panned to the full moon.

Hours later, Bashev stood before Hilary, naked.  A cold sea-breeze blew up from the docks, but his heart was warmed by the knowledge that it was done.  He had sacrificed his youth, his pride... but he had won the prize.  The humiliation was over.  He was a mason.

Hilary's eyes crawled along his thighs.  "Minion," she said, "make me a spatula.  No!" she snapped as he reached for his pants, "Did I give you permission to clothe yourself, slave?  Make me a spatula... as you are."

"But Hila... but Mistress!" Bashev gasped.  "I'm naked!  I can't go out in public like this!"

"You can.  And you will... if you ever want to make it as a mason..."

Stomach sinking, Bashev remembered all those men who had worked in the smithy beside him.  Stripped, ashamed to meet his gaze.  And he realized, with dawning horror, that it was his fate to join their ranks.  To humiliate himself, again and again, until he grew old and the Mistress of Masons turned her cruel, jaded eyes on a younger candidate...

Who would have thought that MMORPGs were so racy!

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