Sit down ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time a lonley noob logged onto his first server, the great London III Test server to be precise. I never left this world but instead began my time mingling with the local flora and fauna, once mauled by a bear in the dead of night as I was escaping from angry Russians with Assualt rifles and another gunned down by an angry helicopter as I inspected by loot, stolen from the corpse of an unsuspecting man.

I started with my small 2 x 2 hut which lasted the staggering time of 27 minutes before I was beaten to death by angry men with rocks - Note to self, I really must get a lock for that door. They took my Wilson, torch, stone hatchet, blueprints and hammer, then disappeared into the night.

Lurking around on chat I found an active community whom deemed me friendly, I joined them only to discover they were actively at war with another "clan" - the lonely noob was cast into a great battle and was soon geared and ready for combat!

It ended in a hail of gunshots and looked like a scene from Mafia as my body was thrown against a stone wall from the sheer quantity of Thompson bullets hitting my frail body. I respawned in my bed, aptly named "Liquids S**g sack" and collected my meagre belongings - they team assisted me in taking a small and poorly guarded home on the airfield for myself. I joined with a few other solo'ers as we crafted and reinforced our little part in the world, we sent out supply runners and traded with the larger clans, all whilst maintaining good relations with the other server dwellers.

The day before the wipe, everything changed. Darkness fell that night as usual, I sat atop my tower with a team of three - we waited for the sunrise but little did we know we would be cast into a recreation of the purge. It started small, a few skirmishes here and there, the odd burst of gunfire or stray arrow but soon out outer wall was slowly chipping away. The Russians had found us and they were determined to get in, I moved around silently on our upper tower and peaked around, only to be met by the sound of my skull crushing under the weight of a finely timed rifle shot. I respawned quickly at the tower sleeping bag and retrieved my equipment, shaking I moved around to the lower firing platform and thats where I saw them, several members scatted on the rocks - I look aim - FIRE! I direct hit, his wails could be heard and my position was met by a barrage of fire. Wood splinted and the stone clanged as the air was filled with lead, we had lost the base, the encampment that has stood the test of time but in the end we were undermanned and out gunned.
My allies fell and with no local sleeping bags made were banished to the unknown of the darkness.

A messaged appeared in the chat - "We are coming." - Our saviours had arrived, the local smaller groups had combined into a roving kill party to assist us. As I sit under my stone stairs bandaging my wounds, the cackles of fire eminated from outside, the rumbles of F1 granades, the sound of whizzling lead and the thrum of arrows was all around. Dirty, bloody and glorious.

The fire fight died down outside, I crept towards the sniping perch and peered out. It was done, we were victorious. We lost some brothers in arms but the day was won, I ran down stairs to greet my new brothers, opening my airlocks and reaching the front door. The door flew open as the electronic lock pinged, the team had assembled outside I walked to towards them and ... BANG. BANG. I fell to the floor, screaming and bleeding. The voice chat icon appeared "We are sorry", they stepped over my body and began looting my gatehouse.

So ended my Rust adventure.
The treacherous "allies" will fall, I swear this. The first light dawned on a fresh server wipe, I look out upon my new grassy home. I smile. "Soon."

TLDR - Best Business simulator ever.

Update: Still pretty much the same, but with screaming Russians running minicopters into your base. It's a good thing.