That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
You kids are so cute. Let us all keep pretending like I'M not going to pirate the shit out of every god damn thing that moves.
Just going to literally sail straight out of Achaea and into Starmourn for some space piracy
Let's do this thing.
Space Battleship Yamato.
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
totally digging the humans so far. Planning out my badass space marine. Ooh-Rah!
Human?! I guess the imperial guard are the meat and potatoes of imperium of man. Your service is commendable human. I'll take my geneseed and augmentations and fight xenos in the grim darkness of the far future.
Okk tells you, "You 'woof'ed on a house channel in a conversation with the Lord Bard."
totally digging the humans so far. Planning out my badass space marine. Ooh-Rah!
Human?! I guess the imperial guard are the meat and potatoes of imperium of man. Your service is commendable human. I'll take my geneseed and augmentations and fight xenos in the grim darkness of the far future.
Hah. All I need is a machine gun, a knife, and my never ending crate of whoop ass.
totally digging the humans so far. Planning out my badass space marine. Ooh-Rah!
Human?! I guess the imperial guard are the meat and potatoes of imperium of man. Your service is commendable human. I'll take my geneseed and augmentations and fight xenos in the grim darkness of the far future.
Hah. All I need is a machine gun, a knife, and my never ending crate of whoop ass.
Oh no... he meant these Space Marines:
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
totally digging the humans so far. Planning out my badass space marine. Ooh-Rah!
Human?! I guess the imperial guard are the meat and potatoes of imperium of man. Your service is commendable human. I'll take my geneseed and augmentations and fight xenos in the grim darkness of the far future.
Hah. All I need is a machine gun, a knife, and my never ending crate of whoop ass.
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
They remind me of those fish peeps from Blue Submarine No 6:
Cept with more teeth and shark features
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
If this turns into some Earth Eteneral furry bullshit I'm out!
I doubt Furries would fit the theme they're going for. Otherwise they'd have made cutesy looking fish people.
More like in the Mass Effect direction (which has no race of giant space anthromorphic humanoids).
That is not an ordinary star, my son.
That star is the tear of a warrior. A lost soul who has finished his
battles somewhere on this planet. A pitiful soul who could not find his
way to the lofty realm where the great spirit awaits us all.
but if I play a shark-man it's obviously going to be with the expectation of biting some people's heads off, and those mouths do not look large enough
Nah yeah It's fine though, I think I just have mismanaged expectations. The Amaian association seems to be 'broadly carnivorous spiky fish-people' more than 'sharks'. The animalian aggressive connotation is being parlayed into a militaristic, know-your-place-within-the-hierarchy/food-chain, possibly expansionist culture, which is interesting. Sharks have the connotation of much more of a force of nature, motivated by hunger and biological imperative, the ultimate predator that if you foolishly enter its realm you cannot triumph unless you have far superior technology. Those traits do not necessarily translate to a compelling intrinsic racial narrative for a player character.
Uncover existential riddles woven through the fabric of matter, energy, and life itself. Pulling at threads unravels a web of evidence leading to revelations about ancient civilisations, advanced races who lived in a younger, intermediary phase of the universe, on planets now dead, who directly or indirectly caused the existence of my race. We are the universe experiencing itself.
Learn that beings masquerading as creator deities are really just aliens. And then kill them before they kill me, Warren Ellis style.
Investigate alien civilisations who have sublimed: advanced science to the degree that they transcended space and time, leaving this universe (mostly) behind. And loot their stuff. But without having made the social, ethical, philosophical advancements that should have accompanied this new power and knowledge if it was gained natively, my uplift/developmental leapfrogging will have grave consequences.
Meet a parallel universe version of myself. Maybe s/he's diametrically opposite to me, my antipode. Maybe there's a seduce option, just saying
Maybe like, enter a black hole, a super-dense singularity from which no information can escape. Because information cannot be sent out, this also prevents my personal life-sense transponder from - after it's registered and confirmed my death - sending out the quantum-entangled infoburst necessary to trigger the nearest resurrection facility to clone me a new body and download the latest update of my consciousness into that body. Nevertheless, having detected my proximity to the event horizon, tracked my vector on a course into the black hole, and registered no further trace of me afterwards, my death would be concluded to within a reasonable margin for error (99.999999999999999997%) and the cloning process would be commenced anyway. But I actually did not die in that black hole but rather travelled through it like a wormhole, and now I'm back, but there's also a rez-clone of myself who thinks he's me running around the galaxy doing me stuff, and this puts both of our existences on shaky moral and legal ground. Shadowy authoritarian groups who don't like shaky moral or legal ground send their kill-squads after the both of us, and also open up a bounty that either of us can claim on the other: whoever dies last gets to live.
Simulate the universe. Abandoning the real one, I can spend my play-time in my simplistic, simulated sub-universe, where I make the rules and have ultimate control.
Randomly encounter alien space flies who will pay me a princely sum for the contents of my ship's septic tanks, Gazillionaire style. I'm assuming I'll be getting my own ship. I'm assuming everyone will get their own ship. Once you finish the newbie tour, congrats, here's your starship, big enough to host a motley crew of rag-tag no-gooders, time to pick a name. No really, we get our own ships right?
Explore rogue planets and moons and find them empty of life. But, due to lax decontamination protocols, leave trace bacteria upon their surface which, over millennia - accelerated by cosmic rays - evolve into sentient races that come to view my likeness as the face of God. Maybe I can shape their morals and exploit their servitude as a source of resources, although this would obviously be a gruelling commitment, and I may eventually be tempted to just abandon them for good, ceasing to answer their paltry prayers. "God is dead," they'll cry, as they undergo civilisational renaissance and begin the first step upon their own road to spaceflight and entrance to the galactic community.
Maybe when I have an important decision to make, an eyepatch future version of myself shows up and tries to kill me, implying that my eventual choice was not the right one.
Accidentally have parts fall off my spaceship because I went for the cheapest repair option. They'll fly through space, never losing inertia until they eventually collide with an escape pod launched from a dying civilisation, one carrying that world's hopes and dreams and last infant son, which is instantly obliterated by a fragment of my ship's off-brand heat shielding travelling at near-light speed. Oh dear.
Explorers. I have this mild obsession with the concept of simulation, of Laplace's demon, the supercomputer weather modelling idea: that if you have full knowledge of the present location and momentum of every atom (or subatomic particle down to whichever level concerns the prevailing paradigm) in the universe, plus sufficient computing power, you can use classical mechanics to calculate their past and future states. (This invites the philosophical argument that free will is an illusion, because every choice is predicated upon a mental state which is determined by a combination of past mental states and external stimuli - but that's its own subject.) Replacing Achaea's rather colourless Fellowship of Explorers, you could have a group who pursues this absolute knowledge of the present state of the universe, using player-characters as their surveyors, with the implied end-goal of deterministic omniscience. For each explorer rank gained past a certain threshold, they might provide desirable favours to the player.
Comments
Damn straight!
Just because it's in the same 8bit style
And I'll be cruising around in my Eagle 5
This project sounds pretty neat. I will be really interested to see how they manage to bring a sense of scale to things without too much repetition.
Roughnecks... hoo-rah!
brought to you in part by Space @Daeir
The Arcadia from Space Pirate Captain Harlock
http://www.starmourn.com/amaians.html
They remind me of those fish peeps from Blue Submarine No 6:
Cept with more teeth and shark features
WRECKED.
More like in the Mass Effect direction (which has no race of giant space anthromorphic humanoids).
but if I play a shark-man it's obviously going to be with the expectation of biting some people's heads off, and those mouths do not look large enough
Nah yeah It's fine though, I think I just have mismanaged expectations. The Amaian association seems to be 'broadly carnivorous spiky fish-people' more than 'sharks'. The animalian aggressive connotation is being parlayed into a militaristic, know-your-place-within-the-hierarchy/food-chain, possibly expansionist culture, which is interesting. Sharks have the connotation of much more of a force of nature, motivated by hunger and biological imperative, the ultimate predator that if you foolishly enter its realm you cannot triumph unless you have far superior technology. Those traits do not necessarily translate to a compelling intrinsic racial narrative for a player character.
But still.
Anyway, more stuff I hope I can do in this game:
Uncover existential riddles woven through the fabric of matter, energy, and life itself. Pulling at threads unravels a web of evidence leading to revelations about ancient civilisations, advanced races who lived in a younger, intermediary phase of the universe, on planets now dead, who directly or indirectly caused the existence of my race. We are the universe experiencing itself.
Learn that beings masquerading as creator deities are really just aliens. And then kill them before they kill me, Warren Ellis style.
Investigate alien civilisations who have sublimed: advanced science to the degree that they transcended space and time, leaving this universe (mostly) behind. And loot their stuff. But without having made the social, ethical, philosophical advancements that should have accompanied this new power and knowledge if it was gained natively, my uplift/developmental leapfrogging will have grave consequences.
Meet a parallel universe version of myself. Maybe s/he's diametrically opposite to me, my antipode. Maybe there's a seduce option, just saying
Maybe like, enter a black hole, a super-dense singularity from which no information can escape. Because information cannot be sent out, this also prevents my personal life-sense transponder from - after it's registered and confirmed my death - sending out the quantum-entangled infoburst necessary to trigger the nearest resurrection facility to clone me a new body and download the latest update of my consciousness into that body. Nevertheless, having detected my proximity to the event horizon, tracked my vector on a course into the black hole, and registered no further trace of me afterwards, my death would be concluded to within a reasonable margin for error (99.999999999999999997%) and the cloning process would be commenced anyway. But I actually did not die in that black hole but rather travelled through it like a wormhole, and now I'm back, but there's also a rez-clone of myself who thinks he's me running around the galaxy doing me stuff, and this puts both of our existences on shaky moral and legal ground. Shadowy authoritarian groups who don't like shaky moral or legal ground send their kill-squads after the both of us, and also open up a bounty that either of us can claim on the other: whoever dies last gets to live.
Simulate the universe. Abandoning the real one, I can spend my play-time in my simplistic, simulated sub-universe, where I make the rules and have ultimate control.
Randomly encounter alien space flies who will pay me a princely sum for the contents of my ship's septic tanks, Gazillionaire style. I'm assuming I'll be getting my own ship. I'm assuming everyone will get their own ship. Once you finish the newbie tour, congrats, here's your starship, big enough to host a motley crew of rag-tag no-gooders, time to pick a name. No really, we get our own ships right?
Explore rogue planets and moons and find them empty of life. But, due to lax decontamination protocols, leave trace bacteria upon their surface which, over millennia - accelerated by cosmic rays - evolve into sentient races that come to view my likeness as the face of God. Maybe I can shape their morals and exploit their servitude as a source of resources, although this would obviously be a gruelling commitment, and I may eventually be tempted to just abandon them for good, ceasing to answer their paltry prayers. "God is dead," they'll cry, as they undergo civilisational renaissance and begin the first step upon their own road to spaceflight and entrance to the galactic community.
Maybe when I have an important decision to make, an eyepatch future version of myself shows up and tries to kill me, implying that my eventual choice was not the right one.
Accidentally have parts fall off my spaceship because I went for the cheapest repair option. They'll fly through space, never losing inertia until they eventually collide with an escape pod launched from a dying civilisation, one carrying that world's hopes and dreams and last infant son, which is instantly obliterated by a fragment of my ship's off-brand heat shielding travelling at near-light speed. Oh dear.
Explorers. I have this mild obsession with the concept of simulation, of Laplace's demon, the supercomputer weather modelling idea: that if you have full knowledge of the present location and momentum of every atom (or subatomic particle down to whichever level concerns the prevailing paradigm) in the universe, plus sufficient computing power, you can use classical mechanics to calculate their past and future states. (This invites the philosophical argument that free will is an illusion, because every choice is predicated upon a mental state which is determined by a combination of past mental states and external stimuli - but that's its own subject.) Replacing Achaea's rather colourless Fellowship of Explorers, you could have a group who pursues this absolute knowledge of the present state of the universe, using player-characters as their surveyors, with the implied end-goal of deterministic omniscience. For each explorer rank gained past a certain threshold, they might provide desirable favours to the player.