And the people — the NPCs you meet on rare, tense runs — carried the weight of actual decision. I remember giving a stranger a bandage and signing on to a short-lived partnership that ended when hunger gnawed the edges off civility. In v395, alliances were brittle. Trading wasn’t just about items; it was currency for trust. I learned to weigh compassion with caution: a shared meal could buy a watchman, but the watchman could just as easily become a liability if resources ran thin.