Enter the land of Aeternum ready to face the supernatural frontier with the New World Deluxe Edition. Explore a beautiful open world as you move through the wilderness and ruins of the island of Aeternum.
Join forces with other players to form powerful companies of craftspeople, soldiers, and strategists.
Claim and control territories to direct the development of settlements.
Fight for survival against enemy raiders, the brutal wilderness, and a growing evil.
Gather materials and craft thousands of items, from magical elixirs and deadly weapons to sprawling fortifications.
The Deluxe Edition includes: Woodsman armor skinStand out from the crowd or blend in with the forest with the Woodsman armor skin.Woodsman hatchet skinComplete the Woodsman look with this skin for the versatile hatchet.Mastiff house petMake your house a home with the Mastiff house pet. Access to housing unlocks at level 15 in-game.Rock/Paper/Scissors emote setRock, Paper, Scissors, a light-hearted game with friends or a tool for making difficult decisions.New World digital art bookA collection of incredible concept art from the making of New World.
To A New World Online Free
Fate has summoned you to the shores of Aeternum, the Eternal Isle. In a land hell-bent on your destruction, what will you do to survive?Explore a beautiful open world as you move through the wilderness and ruins of the island of Aeternum.
Join forces with other players to form powerful companies of craftspeople, soldiers, and strategists.
Claim and control territories to direct the development of settlements.
Fight for survival against enemy raiders, the brutal wilderness, and a growing evil.
Gather materials and craft thousands of items, from magical elixirs and deadly weapons to sprawling fortifications.
Still leaning against the incubators he gave them, while the pencilsscurried illegibly across the pages, a brief description of the modernfertilizing process; spoke first, of course, of its surgicalintroduction--'the operation undergone voluntarily for the good ofSociety, not to mention the fact that it carries a bonus amounting tosix months' salary'; continued with some account of the technique forpreserving the excised ovary alive and actively developing; passed on toa consideration of optimum temperature, salinity, viscosity; referred tothe liquor in which the detached and ripened eggs were kept; and,leading his charges to the work tables, actually showed them how thisliquor was drawn off from the test-tubes; how it was let out drop bydrop on to the specially warmed slides of the microscopes; how the eggswhich it contained were inspected for abnormalities, counted andtransferred to a porous receptacle; how (and he now took them to watchthe operation) this receptacle was immersed in a warm bouilloncontaining free-swimming spermatozoa--at a minimum concentration of onehundred thousand per cubic centimetre, he insisted; and how, after tenminutes, the container was lifted out of the liquor and its contentsre-examined; how, if any of the eggs remained unfertilized, it was againimmersed, and, if necessary, yet again; how the fertilized ova went backto the incubators; where the Alphas and Betas remained until definitelybottled; while the Gammas, Deltas and Epsilons were brought out again,after only thirty-six hours, to undergo Bokanovsky's Process.
Showed them the simple mechanism by means of which, during the last twometres out of every eight, all the embryos were simultaneously shakeninto familiarity with movement. Hinted at the gravity of the so-called'trauma of decanting,' and enumerated the precautions taken to minimize,by a suitable training of the bottled embryo, that dangerous shock. Toldthem of the tests for sex carried out in the neighbourhood of metre 200.Explained the system of labelling--a T for the males, a circle for thefemales and for those who were destined to become freemartins a questionmark, black on a white ground.
'For of course,' said Mr. Foster, 'in the vast majority of cases,fertility is merely a nuisance. One fertile ovary in twelvehundred--that would really be quite sufficient for our purposes. But wewant to have a good choice. And of course one must always leave anenormous margin of safety. So we allow as many as thirty per cent. ofthe female embryos to develop normally. The others get a dose of malesex-hormone every twenty-four metres for the rest of the course. Result:they're decanted as freemartins--structurally quite normal (except,' hehad to admit, 'that they do have just the slightest tendency to growbeards), but sterile. Guaranteed sterile. Which brings us at last,'continued Mr. Foster, 'out of the realm of mere slavish imitation ofnature into the much more interesting world of human invention.'
Lenina got out of the bath, towelled herself dry, took hold of a longflexible tube plugged into the wall, presented the nozzle to her breast,as though she meant to commit suicide, pressed down the trigger. A blastof warmed air dusted her with the finest talcum powder. Eight differentscents and eau-de-Cologne were laid on in little taps over thewash-basin. She turned on the third from the left, dabbled herself withchypre and, carrying her shoes and stockings in her hand, went out tosee if one of the vibro-vacuum machines were free.
Our Ford--or Our Freud, as, for some inscrutable reason, he chose tocall himself whenever he spoke of psychological matters--Our Freud hadbeen the first to reveal the appalling dangers of family life. The worldwas full of fathers--was therefore full of misery; full ofmothers--therefore of every kind of perversion from sadism to chastity;full of brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts--full of madness and suicide.
Mother, monogamy, romance. High spurts the fountain; fierce and foamythe wild jet. The urge has but a single outlet. My love, my baby. Nowonder those poor pre-moderns were mad and wicked and miserable. Theirworld didn't allow them to take things easily, didn't allow them to besane, virtuous, happy. What with mothers and lovers, what with theprohibitions they were not conditioned to obey, what with thetemptations and the lonely remorses, what with all the diseases and theendless isolating pain, what with the uncertainties and thepoverty--they were forced to feel strongly. And feeling strongly (andstrongly, what was more, in solitude, in hopelessly individualisolation), how could they be stable?
They entered. The air seemed hot and somehow breathless with the scentof ambergris and sandalwood. On the domed ceiling of the hall, thecolour organ had momentarily painted a tropical sunset. The SixteenSexophonists were playing an old favourite: 'There ain't no Bottle inall the world like that dear little Bottle of mine.' Four hundredcouples were five-stepping round the polished floor. Lenina and Henrywere soon the four hundred and first. The sexophones wailed likemelodious cats under the moon, moaned in the alto and tenor registers asthough the little death were upon them. Rich with a wealth of harmonics,their tremulous chorus mounted towards a climax, louder and everlouder--until at last, with a wave of his hand, the conductor let loosethe final shattering note of ethermusic and blew the sixteen merelyhuman blowers clean out of existence. Thunder in A flat major. And then,in all but silence, in all but darkness, there followed a gradualdeturgescence, a diminuendo sliding gradually, through quarter tones,down, down to a faintly whispered dominant chord that lingered on (whilethe five-four rhythms still pulsed below) charging the darkened secondswith an intense expectancy. And at last expectancy was fulfilled. Therewas a sudden explosive sunrise, and simultaneously, the Sixteen burstinto song:
Five-stepping with the other four hundred round and round WestminsterAbbey, Lenina and Henry were yet dancing in another world--the warm, therichly coloured, the infinitely friendly world of soma-holiday. Howkind, how good-looking, how delightfully amusing every one was! 'Bottleof mine, it's you I've always wanted...' But Lenina and Henry hadwhat they wanted... They were inside, here and now--safely insidewith the fine weather, the perennially blue sky. And when, exhausted,the Sixteen had laid by their sexophones and the Synthetic Musicapparatus was producing the very latest in slow Malthusian Blues, theymight have been twin embryos gently rocking together on the waves of abottled ocean of blood-surrogate.
In a different key, 'How can I?' he repeated meditatively. 'No, the realproblem is: How is it that I can't, or rather--because, after all, Iknow quite well why I can't--what would it be like if I could, if I werefree--not enslaved by my conditioning.'
He laughed, 'Yes, "Everybody's happy nowadays." We begin giving thechildren that at five. But wouldn't you like to be free to be happy insome other way, Lenina? In your own way, for example; not in everybodyelse's way.'
Lenina liked the drums. Shutting her eyes she abandoned herself to theirsoft repeated thunder, allowed it to invade her consciousness more andmore completely, till at last there was nothing left in the world butthat one deep pulse of sound. It reminded her reassuringly of thesynthetic noises made at Solidarity Services and Ford's Daycelebrations. 'Orgy-porgy,' she whispered to herself. These drums beatout just the same rhythms.
But a little later it was reminding her a good deal less of thatinnocuous function. For suddenly there had swarmed up from those roundchambers underground a ghastly troop of monsters. Hideously masked orpainted out of all semblance of humanity, they had tramped out a strangelimping dance round the square; round and again round, singing as theywent, round and round--each time a little faster; and the drums hadchanged and quickened their rhythm, so that it became like the pulsingof fever in the ears; and the crowd had begun to sing with the dancers,louder and louder; and first one woman had shrieked, and then anotherand another, as though they were being killed; and then suddenly theleader of the dancers broke out of the line, ran to a big wooden chestwhich was standing at one end of the square, raised the lid and pulledout a pair of black snakes. A great yell went up from the crowd, and allthe other dancers ran towards him with outstretched hands. He tossed thesnakes to the first-comers, then dipped back into the chest for more.More and more, black snakes and brown and mottled--he flung them out.And then the dance began again on a different rhythm. Round and roundthey went with their snakes, snakily, with a soft undulating movement atthe knees and hips. Round and round. Then the leader gave a signal, andone after another, all the snakes were flung down in the middle of thesquare; an old man came up from underground and sprinkled them with cornmeal, and from the other hatchway came a woman and sprinkled them withwater from a black jar. Then the old man lifted his hand and,startlingly, terrifyingly, there was absolute silence. The drums stoppedbeating, life seemed to have come to an end. The old man pointed towardsthe two hatchways that gave entrance to the lower world. And slowly,raised by invisible hands from below, there emerged from the one apainted image of an eagle, from the other that of a man, naked, andnailed to a cross. They hung there, seemingly self-sustained, as thoughwatching. The old man clapped his hands. Naked but for a white cottonbreech-cloth, a boy of about eighteen stepped out of the crowd and stoodbefore him, his hands crossed over his chest, his head bowed. The oldman made the sign of the cross over him and turned away. Slowly, the boybegan to walk round the writhing heap of snakes. He had completed thefirst circuit and was half-way through the second when, from among thedancers, a tall man wearing the mask of a coyote and holding in his handa whip of plaited leather, advanced towards him. The boy moved on asthough unaware of the other's existence. The coyote-man raised his whip;there was a long moment of expectancy, then a swift movement, thewhistle of the lash and its loud flat-sounding impact on the flesh. Theboy's body quivered; but he made no sound, he walked on at the sameslow, steady pace. The coyote struck again, again; and at every blow atfirst a gasp and then a deep groan went up from the crowd. The boywalked on. Twice, thrice, four times round he went. The blood wasstreaming. Five times round, six times round. Suddenly Lenina coveredher face with her hands and began to sob. 'Oh, stop them, stop them!'she implored. But the whip fell and fell inexorably. Seven times round.Then all at once the boy staggered and, still without a sound, pitchedforward on to his face. Bending over him, the old man touched his backwith a long white feather, held it up for a moment, crimson, for thepeople to see, then shook it thrice over the snakes. A few drops fell,and suddenly the drums broke out again into a panic of hurrying notes;there was a great shout. The dancers rushed forward, picked up thesnakes and ran out of the square. Men, women, children, all the crowdran after them. A minute later the square was empty, only the boyremained, prone where he had fallen, quite still. Three old women cameout of one of the houses, and with some difficulty lifted him andcarried him in. The eagle and the man on the cross kept guard for alittle while over the empty pueblo; then, as though they had seenenough, sank slowly down through their hatchways, out of sight, into thenether world. 2ff7e9595c
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