Choose fur, choose name, choose species, choose hair, choose eyes, choose vest, choose pants, choose badge, choose stripes, choose pants. Choose life.

Once a roleplaying paradise for a scant few, evolved from a corny little human fighting game called DragonSpires. Now a horrific fascist dystopia, Furcadia is fast approaching its 6th year anniversary. The once lovable Owsla, the police of Furcadia, have convoluted and twisted into various factions known as the Beekins and Guardians. The Beekins are an organized group of individuals in the guise of helpers for newbies. They really just want to force their Shoutcast radio stations on you, and eventually succeed to the all holy rank of Guardian. The Guardian is the judge and the jury. If your actions are deemed unworthy of the game, they will dispose of you. If they do not like what you say, you are gone. If they don't like what you are, you are gone. They are the Thought Police.

Furcadia has turned from freeform roleplaying game into more of a glorified chatroom. You have your option of staying in the public areas, or taking your sex partner into a private "dream". Furcadia's package comes with the tools you need to construct these dreams. The population of the game has exploded over recent years, and the furres have divided into groups that don't mingle well together. The roleplaying is still present, crammed in a little corner of Furcadia called the Imaginarium and Goldwyn. If you're the type of male preteen who can't get enough cybersex with other male preteens, then Furrabian Nights is where you'll want to make your home. For the female preteens, New Haven is a great place to run around trying to impress the Beekins so they will invite you into their ranks. The Challenges map is a broken hellhole in which you can find countless lost newbies wandering around, trying to get a grasp on their surroundings.

Allegria is where you can wander into other people's dreams, trying to get a glimpse of the naughty acts they're engaging in. They will most certainly kick you out 5 seconds after you've downloaded their 5 megabyte custom patch made specially for their dream. And then there is Meovanni. Meovanni was the original Furcadia map, back when you had to have a pillow under you to sit down, and everyone could hear you shout. A good number of the furres in Meovanni are the veterans, the ones who just can't bring themselves to go to the other maps. There are stray newbies wandering around too, but the captive veterans often snap on them, and make them feel very unwelcome. The furres aren't very pleasant there.

Furcadia is free, more or less. Constantly you will be witness to advertising of addons you can purchase for your character, like wings, the ability to become a dragon, or to have your own custom portrait. Occasionally, the game's cocreator, Talzhemir, will try to push some of her artwork or sell books for Many poor children with creditless parents will beg and plead for you to transfer your wings and things to them. Some will even befriend you just to get at your addons. Noone will claim to have bought their addons, they will all claim them to be gifts. You'll find yourself wondering where they came from in the first place.

Furcadia has been around a long time, and has a very diverse population. Whether you want to satirize with peers while standing around a pine tree, or chat it up with 40 year old fursuiters who use way too many emoticons, Furcadia is the place for you. But be warned. The game has a strange pull on your soul, and the longer you spend on it, the harder it is to leave. Many of us couldn't leave if we wanted to. Many of us do want to leave. But we keep going back. To our second home. The oppressive and the free. Furcadia.