Messages

Good luck Mandle! I know you can make it!

Best of luck to you!

Just played through Psychopomp, a really nice game!

Terribly sad to hear that you didn't make it, xBRANx, I agree with CaesarCub and Danvzare, your animation looks great and the story and character seemed interesting.

I recently finished my entry myself, here is a link:
http://www.adventuregamestudio.co.uk/forums/index.php?topic=54211.new#new

It's  game about a german soldier in WWII, whom in death gets a new perspective on life. Sort of.
What do you guys think?

The story of a soldier of the german Wehrmacht in WWII who falls in battle and laying lifeless surrounded by an ongoing war,
he starts questioning what led him here and pondering his role in the grand scheme of things...


This game was made for MAGS in November 2016 with the theme "Afterlife" and can be played in English and Swedish.

Link: http://www.adventuregamestudio.co.uk/site/games/game/2108/

I made this game as a standalone story, but the main character also appears in Sniper and spotter being patriotic in case anyone is interested!

Thank you, so very happy that you liked my story!

Awesome, I do hope you will be able to release Neofeud soon.
So excited for this game!

Looks dramatic!

So, this only happens when you debug game from the editor with F5?

Yes, pretty much.

I went trough my game files again, and it seems I must have hit the compile button sometime before I made the backup. I tried deleting the compiled folder, but it had no effect. While I'm not able to test-run the game from the editor, I'm able to make changes to the game and then make a compiled version and play it, all the compiled versions of the game have worked. I think I should be able to work on and finish this project without playing it from the editor, but I still don't know why I can't start the game via the editor, I thought I would be able to start the game in the editor even after it was compiled.

OK, I have a problem, I tried to import a new font and then this shows up whenever I try to play or edit my game:

I tried importing a different font from the SCI-fonts pack http://www.adventuregamestudio.co.uk/site/ags/sci_fonts/, to no effect.
The scary thing is that I'm afraid that the same thing happens to my backup copy, and I didn't even change the font on that one!

What shall I do?

[Best Character:]

Best Character: Stupot+
Best Setting: Stupot+
Best Plot: Stupot+
Best Word Choice: Stupot+
Best Technical Innovation: Stupot+
Most Substantive: Stupot+

Well?

They're perfect.
Well I suppose if I had to be picky, the kitchen does look a little empty. But other than that, I think they look lovely. Especially the living room, which to me looks absolutely superb.

The cloth over the living room table look weird and I agree that the kitchen looks rather large and empty, but otherwise it looks really cozy!

I'd recommend Emily Enough: Imprisoned, it's not just one of my favorite AGS-games, but one of my favorite games, period. It has great story and atmosphere, albeit very dark humor.

The problem is that English speakers use the word "race" for pretty much anything (including humans!) whereas in every other languages this word is only for pets or farm animals.

In Swedish language there is a word for race, and it has been used to describe humans, but it stopped some time after WWII.
The word race in association in humans were too closely associated with the ideas of eugenics and the abuse of Sami and Romani people in Sweden, as well as the crimes committed by Nazi-Germany. Today, using the word race in Sweden is considered, well, racist, and most people instead differentiate groups of people by country of origin, culture or ethnicity in these contexts instead. Race is pretty much only used to describe different breeds of domesticated animals.
So the word race have different connotations in Swedish than in English I'd say.

Great work, always fun to see what new tracks you come up with!

[Because he's BATMAN!]

I was thinking of drawing a cat or owl at first, but since all those were already taken I decided to do something else.

Why Batman?

Spoiler

Because he's BATMAN!

[close]

Not sure why, but this GIF just cracks me up every time I see it!

[The wooden machine]

Well, here is my take on the theme:

The wooden machine

Jacob woke early that morning to the cold sunlight pouring in through the small opening in the wall serving as window. He was well aware that the life he had chosen was one of asceticism
as he sat up in his hard wooden bed and his bare feet touched the cold stone floor, yet he was content in his choice.

He was no stranger to simplicity having grown up on a small farm in a barren land, but as he went from a boy to a man he had seen the changing seasons and what came with it. He had seen lambs grow into sheep giving birth to lambs and men bury their fathers and then becoming fathers themselves, one day waiting for their sons to bury them. Their life was that of a blind snake eating its own tail. With that, he knew that he could never live that life and wandered away, searching for a purpose, as had all the other men that inhabited this ancient and desolate place high up in the mountains.

The sound of footsteps began coming closer to Jacob's room now. Quickly and quietly he reached for his coarse brown robe and pulled it over his head. The bluntly crafted door swung open with a creak as Jacob slid his feet into the leather boots. The man standing in the opening was Bernard, older yet burlier than Jacob and with half his face covered by a grizzled beard. Jacob knew why he had come. It was at last his time to go and work on the machine.

He followed him through the herbal garden and past it's workers hunched over sage, thyme and rosemary. Some men in this place worked with growing plants, breeding sheep and weaving wool, not unlike the tasks performed by the people whose life Jacob had left behind, yet this was different. It was not merely toiling and labouring for its own sake, but a necessary evil for sustaining the men working on the machine, and every sheep, plant and seed was one of purpose.

As they approached he could hear the rumbling sound of the machine and its workings.

When they walked around a corner they were greeted by an impressive sight. A contraption of turning wheels of every size, all perfectly round, and massive ropes and pulleys going back and forth between them, enormous oaken pillars slowly rotating and stairs and ladders connecting them. It engulfed the entire courtyard, different parts of machinery stretching almost all the way up to the roof of the walls that surrounded it. Only a small tower stretched up above it, lone and defiant. Jacob despised the look of it, a still and unmoving stone structure disrupting the grinding and pulsating harmony of the ever moving machine. The tower was a forbidden place, and only a small hemp rope was tied across the dark vault leading into it, but the small rope was enough. Jacob had no desire to go there, and could not see why any soul in this place would want to go there and abandon the wondrous marvel that was the machine, ever moving, ever working.

Barely able to hold back his smile Jacob eagerly asked Bernhard to begin. The sturdy man began cranking a large wooden handle on one of the wheels, and very carefully Jacob took the place beside him. Together with all the other men they worked long until noon. It was hard work and his body aced, yet Jacob was very satisfied, for he was working towards a purpose, and even if he had yet to know it, he was certain of the progress he made in every move. When a new group of hooded men emerged to relieve them, Jacob felt almost disappointed. Even as he joined his peers for supper and later crept down into his bed, he still longed to be back and work on the machine.

And so it continued for days and months, Jacob working on the machine, and happily so. But one day it came to an end. Gradually new components had been installed, someone built another wheel, another tied two pillars together with a rope and new ways to work on the machine were formed. But when Jacob tried to move one of the handles on one of the large wheels that day, it stuck firmly in place. At first he almost panicked and spun around looking for someone to ask for help, but quickly stopped himself from doing so, for what would they think of him, if he could not handle the machine? He wanted to, no, needed to try and solve this on his own first, if he asked another Jacob would deprive that man of his time to work on his part of the machine. Jacob looked around for what the problem could be, but it was no small task as the machine engulfed the whole courtyard. However he looked at it, he could never see it in its entirety, for it was large enough to even obscure itself, with large wheels and pillars hiding the other wheels and pillars behind them. Everything was covered in machinery save the tower, and a forbidden thought entered Jacobs mind.

It was only to get an overview of the machinery, he told himself as he swung his leg over the hemp rope and started scaling the narrow staircase spiralling up to the top, yet part of him felt guilty and his unease grew the further up he came. When he was at last at the top, the unease gave way to a deep sense of dread. The pinnacle of the tower was a high and windy platform without railing, but this was not the reason of Jacob's dread. The source came from the machine itself.

Never had Jacob dared question the purpose of it, instead toiling in the hope that the nature of its contraptions would reveal itself to those of strength and devotion enough to work on the machine. The idea of asking any of the other men working on it had left him not long after his arrival, for it was clear that few, if any of the men Jacob had spoken to knew any more than himself. For years, if not generations the men had worked and strived for the betterment of the collections of mechanisms on the courtyard for the sake of an ever illusive purpose and now the tower had taught it to Jacob in the cruel manner that only the cold and indisputable truth can do.

From above, the machine seemed not the marvel it had appeared from the ground. It did not majestically envelop the courtyard, it cluttered it, an inexplicable tangle of ropes and planks connecting wheels spinning in circles, and small men in robes as brown as the machinery that surrounded them going back and forth turning gears and levers without knowing why they were doing it. From the tower Jacob could see the mountains and moss green moors stretching far around him, yet he could not see the machine connecting to anything outside the small courtyard square. The machine worked on its own and neither produced nor consumed anything, save all the hard work the men naively poured into it. The machine had no purpose, it was merely a grinding contraption perpetually working against itself, and none of the labour put into it would ever bear fruit.

It was all meaningless.

Cool! Shame the characters reflections don't move, but otherwise it looks great!

I too have started on a story, I hope I can finish it in time!

When I read about all this, I wonder if anyone has suggested that USA should switch to a Parliamentary system?
It's hard too see the advantages of a two-party system when it boiled down to a very even race between two widely unliked candidates and a huge number of voters didn't even vote...