Author: vjjvonschellwitz

“A lone astronaut, on a island of junk and lost memories, trying to find a way onward, to the stars!”

“The Island” is a short 2D pixel-art game, that lets you take control of an unnamed astronaut who seems stuck on a trash-island, in the middle of the ocean. In this small puzzle-game, you have to help the silent protagonist finding a way off the island.

This project tried to let the player experiance a story, without telling a story directly. The player themselves is supposed to find out the background of the astronaut and interpret the things they find on the island.

Link’s coming soon. Game will be up on itch.io at the end of Janurary.

In a time of change, fueled by industrialisation and the desire for development, the past starts to creep up upon the present. While the world of Levain slowly wakens from years of peace and prosperity, now closer than ever to a world wide war, signs and warnings from the old world start to appear, foretelling the End-Times.

 

„When the ten acient seals are broken, and the harbinger returns, all will fall into never ending nightmares.“

 

„Ten Seals“ is a Pen-&-Paper student project, trying to give people a springboard into the roleplay world. While some other PnP-Games can be quite overwhelming with content, rules and lore, we strived to create a beginners-friendly game, bringing the genre to new-players. Of course, there is also enough for veterans to enjoy, if they wish for a deeper pool to dive into.

The idea was thought up by the entire team, while I mostly (now) focus on the overall lore, backgrounds and the world itself. This here will be only a sneak-peek. If you are interested in more of this project, please check out our itch.io site and our Wiki (the latter one being the main dumping ground for everything lore and canon).

 

https://losnessos.itch.io/die-zehn-siegel

<- (Its only in german so far. I’m working on it, ok!)

http://the-ten-seals.wikia.com/wiki/The_Ten_Seals_Wiki

 

The project itself is still work in progress, and therefore still changing and evolving.

Day. 11; Dragonblight, near the Wrathgate

Being in the cold, unforgiving stretches of the Dragonblight, one could almost start to miss the warmth of the Tundra.

The caravane of soldiers and sellswords is on its way to the Wrathgate, to support the troops, stationed infront of it. Under the command of High-Lord Bolvar Fordragon, the the army will breach the main-gate of Ice Crown Glacier and finally take the fight to the Lich King himself.

Eriand was riding ahead, with Gallius and Varen behind him. “Are they really believing we will simply get through that light forsaken gate, kill all undead and bring victory back home? The Scourges strength lies in its numbers! Bashing against will only lead to our death.” Gallius does not look at Varen, keeping his head up.

“Of course not. Whilst we attack from the front, the Argent Dawn will engage from the side and support our efforts to take the Wrathgate.”

“So, old Tiron finally got his Paladins together?”

“The Ebonknights are joining too…”

Varen mouth twist into a smirk. “The Lich Kings favorite pets are with us? Have they truly turned on their master now?”

“Some of them, yes. They have inside knowledge of the Scourge and will be an important asset to this war…”

Varen takes his eyes from Gallius, looking forward still smiling to himself. “Well, you seem to be delighted for them to joins us…”

“It’s an alliance of convenience. You know that. Plus, I saw them in battle. They hate Arthas as much as any other here.” Gallius pulls out a flagon and takes a sip of it. “Let’s just try to be careful. We are the canon-fodder here. Right on a silver plate…”

Gallius grunts and puts back his flask.

 

“Nothin like a chill breeze, wouldn’ ya say lad?” The Dwarf Gurmadir sits on Samins horse, his hands clinging to her armour, making sure he does not fall of the mount. “Reminds me of home!”

Samin tries to see everything as positive as Gurmadir, but often she is too occupied with the grim reality. She joined General Gallius in hopes of a more exiting life, instead of living as a farmer. But this life also brought the always present chance of death with it. Being killed in battle. That weird feeling before a fight, when you feel like shitting out your own guts. Samin had this feeling right about now again.

Trying to get her mind of the thought she looks towards Kamegorn. The Nightelf stares onto the empty snowfield, covered in several hides and shivering like starting-up Gnome machine. Gurmadir lets out a laughter as he sees the Druid. “Ha! Doesn’ get this cold in ya forest, ey?” Kame only responses with a hateful stare toward the red-bearded dwarf.

“Look! Quick! The Wrathgate!” Eriand comes down riding the snow-hill in front of caravane, motioning the rest to follow. The two old veterans, Gallius and Varen, jump of their horses and follow.

“What ya think the boy saw?”

“Don’t know.” Samin turns around towards the dwarf “Jump!”

Confused, he asked her: “Wha-“

Samin threws him off the horse and jumps into the heel deep snow, running towards the hill as well. “Oh… What for me, will’ya!”

 

In front of Varen and Gallius lies a scene of horror. The Alliance and Horde soldiers apparently charged at the Scourge warriors, but now most of them, living and undead, were lying on the ground. A green mist covered the battlefield and the distant screams of those who haven’t died in the fog, could be heard.

“By the Light…” Gallius turns pale.

“This is the horror, the Scourge throws at you, Gallius. Not the death of a warrior, you see. A pitiful one, laying on the ground, choking on your own guts, only to be raised as a mindless monster to kill at his command…”

Inside the gas cloud, soldiers were choking on the poision. Their faces turned white, their eyes milky. The entire army was being gassed. But not only the living. The ghouls and skeletons of the Scourge also tumbled to the ground, falling apart.

Eriand approaches his father: “We have to help them quick!”

 

Varen takes the boy by the shoulder before this one could charge into the battlefield. “So you can die like they do? I think not! We have to report to Wintergarde Keep. Tell them what happened here.” Eriand looks at Varen with disgust. He would never leave soldiers to die.

But the old man was right and he knew that. “You’re  right! Let’s get our men to safety first.” Gallius stands up and knocks the snow of his armour. “Tell them to pick up some speed! We will-.”

 

In the distant sky to the south, red leathery wing could be seen. “Look!” Samin points towards them. “Dragons…” Kamegorn whispers through his scarf. A group of Red-Dragons approach the battlefield, flying over the caravane. They circle around the fogged area, descending with a burst of flame. The Dragons bath the field and everyone on it with their flame.

 

“NO!”, shouts Eriand, ready to run down the hill. Varen again pulls him by his shoulder. “You want to be roasted too? Just wait.”

“But they are killing them! Those beasts!”

“Better don’t let them hears this, boy. The Red-Dragon Flight is a proud one. And wise as well.” Varen points at the largest of the Dragons. “That right there is Alextraza, ‘The Life-Binder’. She is the Aspect of Life, and when she kills, then only with purpose.”

As the flames dimed, mostly ashes remained. But between the ember and smoke, sprouts started to come out of the ground. From the burned out corpse of an Orc-Warrior, a tree starts to grew and the battlefield got covered in a mixture of flame and green.

“Better a quick death through the cleansing flame than this… or worse.” Varen turns away from Eriand, as this one still stares at the scenario before him, shocked and wondered at the same time.

Day. 5; Valiance Keeps, Courtyard

Many soldiers gathered at the Keep, preparing to move east, towards the Wrathgate. Right to the front-door of the enemy. Gallius is giving some of the men instructions and a last debrief. Varen and Jiine are standing on the wall, looking down to the courtyard. The cold, bitter wind of the north cuts right through any clothes, and they are only at the southern regions of the frozen continent.

“We should tell him.” Jiine pays no attention to the troops below. Her gaze is focused on the east, at the north-east. There, in the distance, the jagged Spires of Ice-Crown Citadel pierce through the cloud, looming menacing over the the lower regions of Northrend.  Somewhere there, the monster Arthas sits on his Frozen Throne, just waiting for the mortals to throw their forces at him, only so they can die and be raised by him as new troops of the damned.

“Don’t you think I already did!? The old fool has only ears for his little ‘prince’ now.” Jiine looks at Varen, her shining teal eyes looking right at him. “But you are his left hand, are you not? You fought together in the Second War. There is a deep connection between your souls. I can sense it!”

“’Soul-Connection’ do not matter, when one is blinded by love.” Varen eyes meet Jiines. “The boy wants to fight, and so his father follows. Only thing we can do now is to minimize the damage.”

“Is that’s why we came along? You already gave up on him…”

“Yes…”

Jiine looks back at the Citadel. “You like to believe your hearth is Fel-scared and cold. But there is more to you. The Light is in all of us. Otherwise, we would not be here.” The Dranei points to the east towards the black walls of Icecrown. “We would be standing on the other-side right now.”

Varen chuckles: “Since when do Shaman believe in the Light?”

“…since Warlocks care about other people.”

Varens smile disappears from his face and his gaze falls back down at the courtyard.

Day. 4; off the shores of the Borean Tundra

“Land Ho!” The people on the war-vessel are all the sudden springing with excitement. “About time.”, one of the soldier grunts. It is Kamegorn, a Nightelf Druid whose grumpiness is only toped by the old Warlock, Varen himself.

“Can’t wait to have ground under my feet again.”

“I suggested, you jump into the waters if you miss nature so much, Kame!” A young blonde woman steps up to Kame, only reaching his shoulders with her head. “Bah! So, I can freeze here? Do you want to kill me, Samin?” The woman gives the cranky Druid a smirk. “I’m sure Faulter or I could have pulled you back into the realm of the living, if something would have gone wrong.”

“Ha! I would love to see that asshole resurrect anybody! He probably doesn’t even know how to spell ‘Light’. Some Priest he is…” Samin only answers with the same grin as before, while she packs up her gear into a backpack.

“Everyone on deck! We reached Valiance Keep!” A young Human in shiny armour enters the below-deck through a hatch. “Enough sitting around! Your country needs you.”

That man was Gallius son, Eriand. The boy grew up with the Sons of Lothar on the former planet of Outland. His mother, Gallius wife, followed the heroes through the Dark Portal many years back, trying to stop the Orc-Horde from opening more portals to more innocent worlds. When the raw energies blew the planet apart, the Dark Portal closed, leaving the Alliance troops stranded on this dying corpse of a world. Gallius stayed on Azeroth, falling into a deep depression after losing his wife.

When the Dark Portal reopened, he immediately went through, looking for his wife. The only thing he found of was a grave. But in her time in Honor Hold, she gave birth to a son. Their son. Raised amongst warriors the boy joined his father and became his right hand, returning to Azeroth as heroes after the battle of the Black Temple.

Some of the Soldiers saluted to the boy, whilst some kept packing their belongings. Eriands eyes fell upon Samin. As she turned around, their gazes met. A sense of confusion marks Samins face as he stares at the young Paladin With a sudden realisation, Eriand returns to the realm and hastily stepping back up the stairs.

„Die Feste sah so nah aus, als ich sie von Tal aus sah. Palisaden, so hoch, dass kein Belagerungsturm sie erklimmen könnte. Und auch so massive, dass man Tage bräuchte, um mit Sprengstoff ein Loch hinein zu schlagen. Auf den Türmen wehten die Flaggen des Ordens, eine rote Flamme auf weiß-goldenem Hintergrund.

Einer der Dorfbewohner im Tal meinte, es gäbe einen Pass, der das Gebirge hochführt, hin zur ‚Dämmer-Feste‘. Allerdings meinte er auch, ich solle den Pfad nicht unterschätzen. Hätte ich doch bloß auf ihn gehört.

Zwar war der Boden gut bepflastert, sodass Wägen hoch zur Feste kommen können und Proviant den Paladinen zu geben, doch ist der Pfad länger als ich erwartete. Nach zwei Tagen war ich so hoch, dass Schnee einfach so anfing zu viel und auf dem Boden liegen zu bleiben. Und das im Sommer. Nebel raubte mir die Sicht und wenn ich ein Loch hindurch fand, sah ich Neumark vor mir, das Dorf direkt am Bergesrand und in der Ferne den Dunkelwald.

Als ich endlich an den Toren ankam, waren meine Vorräte bereits aufgebraucht, und die Kälte hatte bereits Teile meiner Kraft ein gefordert. Mein Prelate meinte zu mir, dass die Paladine des ‚Ordens der Göttlichen Flamme‘ Teleportations-Steine nutzen, die jedes Mitglied bei sich trägt, um schnell zwischen der Feste und der Außenwelt zu wandeln. Der lange Pfad ist dazu da, einerseits feindlich Truppen zu ermüden, andererseits ist es der erste Test, um ein Paladin des Göttlichen Rechtes zu werden. Wer schon auf den Weg stirbt, wäre zu schwach die folgenden Prüfungen und Riten zu überstehen.

Ich bin nun seit fast zwei Wochen hier und habe kaum mehr gemacht, als zu kochen und die Gänge des Klosters zu säubern. Doch vielleicht sollte ich mich freuen, dass mein Rücken das einzige ist, was mir weh tut. Doch komme was wolle, ich werde ein Mitglied des Ordens werden, und dann an den Magus-Jägern Rache nehmen, die meine Schwester wie Vieh hingerichtet haben….“

-Auszug aus „Journal eines Klerikers:

Einblicke in die Orden der Göttlichkeit“

Day 2; Somewhere in the Northern Sea

Varen has warned Gallius about this campaign. Normally he listened to his council, but not as much since his boys got older and bolder. Maybe it’s because of his late wife. Varen could understand this. Kind of. He would not be here with Gallius battalion otherwise.

The Tattered Spire. A mockery doing the Outland battles, when they tried to blow a hole into the walls of the Black Temple during its siege. Turned out the crack inside the palisade was exactly what the forces of the Alliance needed to infiltrate the hold and bypass the nearly impenetrable defences of the Illidari. Made them into heroes. Sort of. And when the King called for war against the undead hordes of the Lich king, all the heroes followed his call into the dark abyss.

The salty sea water hung heavy on Varens lungs. He never was much of as sea-man. Deep in the bowls of the ship, he and some other members of the Tattered Spire sat, waiting to arrive at the Valiance Keep. Their spirits were high, and why should they not be? They have not seen what Varen saw, or Jiine.

Varen did not trust shamanistic spirits and such. Arcane and Fel magic! Those were energies he could see, he could understand. Energies which are real to him, which he could bend and use to his desire. But all that talk about Spirits and the Elements was nonsense to him. Until Jiine came. The young Draenei had a born talent for the ability of Farseeing. In her dreams, she sometimes could catch glimses of the future. A talent she has proven to Varen to be real and rather correct all the time. So, when she dreamed of the gruesome deaths of all the folk, following Gallius to the north, Varen was immediately alarmed. Not for him, or the other soldiers and warrior. He could not care less about the short-minded members of this guild. It was for only one of them: Samin. The daughter of the woman he loved.