Any time someone bought gold from a gold farmer to spend on their mount, they were helping deflate, not inflate, the server’s economy.This isn’t to say that there wasn’t inflation at all, but it was far more limited in scope, if less limited in visibility.in 2004, it was the heyday of the Chinese gold farmer.Figuring out who was a gold farmer, and discussion over whether (and if so, exactly how) they were ruining the game, was parlour chatter in guilds across the game, from server to server.Expansion The Burning Crusade (2007) introduced flying mounts, with the price for top speed quintupling to 5000 gold, a sum so vast that few people I knew ever obtained it before the next expansion was released.All of the gold spent this way was removed entirely from the economy of Azeroth.People certainly worried about their friends who farmed metal or herbs for 12 hours straight, but not because they thought it contributed to runaway inflation ruining the server economy.
Everyone needed things to help level up their characters and professions, and because it was a blank slate there was no supply to speak of.
Chinese farmers were not only hunted by Blizzard, third party gold sales being banned under the Terms of Service, but by players. Gank mobs would hunt suspected Chinese for fun, hurling abuse, often with those on the same faction leading the opposing faction to the farmers.
On normal servers players found all sorts of creative ways to ruin a farmer’s day.
After a while, perhaps a month or so at most, supply for basic materials and gear would begin to massively outstrip demand, dropping prices inexorably downward.
As people levelled up and gained access to more advanced materials, the deflation wave would crash over them, and on up to the top end of the scale, with prices eventually settling down to an equilibrium.