specterwrites

[specterwrites]

What advice do you have to someone who has several years of writing experience outside of video games (in my case, a combination of marketing, freelance tabletop RPG materials, and nonprofit grants), but is interested in transitioning their career into game writing and narrative design?

You, more than anybody, probably realize that writing for marketing is different than freelance tabletop RPG materials, which is different from nonprofit grants. Writing for games is as different from what you’ve done as the various different things you’ve done are from each other. I could give you my standard advice of “Learn to design games”, because that’s what I say to all of the people who claim to be writers and want to get into games. But I’ve decided to try to do something a little different today.

Beamdog (the Baldur’s Gate: Enhanced Edition developer) was hiring for an entry level narrative designer very recently. Since that’s the job you want, I’ll break down their job description, and add a few comments for relevant stuff. 

Qualifications:

A University/College degree (in a related field) preferred

You must demonstrate the ability to write quality branching dialogue and narrative, which includes a command of both the principles of game design as well as the English language

The ability to work positively within a collaborative creative environment and to use team feedback to evaluate and improve upon your work during iteration

Preference will be given to those with previous professional game industry experience, and those with previous game writing experience in particular

A passion for video games and an understanding of interactive storytelling

A working knowledge of Dungeons & Dragons (and other tabletop games) a plus

 You must be authorized to legally work in Canada, and willing to work locally in Edmonton, Alberta (relocating, if necessary)

Immediately, you should recognize that a narrative designer is a game designer first and foremost. That means that you need to understand game design principles like player agency, meaningful choice, scope, player psychology, and the interworkings between design and other disciplines like engineering and art. Second, you should realize that you won’t be working alone - you’ll be collaborating as part of a team, and that means you’ll have peers who review your work, editors who will change your work, and a boss who will tell you what to write and how many words you can use to write it.

Beyond that, you’ll need to understand how branching narrative works. One of the largest constraints in any game’s development is scope. You can’t just write whatever you want. You need to deliver completed work on a schedule in order for the game to ship by the deadline. Broadly diverging paths might be super fun for the player, but they take an awful lot of design time to implement and test. You’ll also have to be constrained within other limitations - the quest you’re writing absolutely has to take place in an ice cavern because the level designers and environment artists are already working on it and they aren’t going to change it because you decided it would be better in a swamp. You probably won’t be coming up with the main story arc either - you’ll start with side quests and one-off characters. You’ll also need to work within a word budget - there’s only so much text you can fit on screen at once, and reading too much will bore most players.

“Sure, I can do all that,” you might say. Cool. Let’s get on to the next part - the actual application. Here is what was required of all submissions:

Submission Requirements:

An outline for a short side-quest in the Dungeons & Dragons universe – the outline itself should be no more than 5 pages (preferably less), focusing on how the quest is obtained, the steps the player takes to go through it, and the resolution. Make sure the player has agency in how to complete the quest, and that the quest has more than one resolution based on how it’s completed.

A single written game dialogue which would occur during that quest, showing your command of branching and player voice. You may use any game style which is an existing Beamdog or Wizards of the Coast franchise, so long as the player is able to choose responses which encompass a variety of tones/playstyles.

Include voice direction in the above dialogue, as well as directions to fellow designers who would presumably be implementing your quest – we want to see how you communicate your ideas.

This dialogue should be no longer than 2500 words and can be written using Microsoft Word (using hyperlinks for the choices) or Twine (of these two, Twine is preferred as it will require you to use basic scripting language in order for the dialogue to function).

This is a good list of what an entry level narrative designer will actually do. If you were working on the game, you’d probably be given some kind of bare-bones quest outline with a setting/location, a rough quest length, and possibly some characters to include. Then you’d be told to fill out the details with something fun and engaging. The outline you came up with would then be reviewed by your boss and some other narrative designers, and you’d be given feedback - fix this, change that, merge these characters, what about this situation?

Then you’d have to start actually writing the dialogue. Notice in #2 that it mentions the variety of tones and playstyles. When you are allowing player agency, it’s important to recognize what sort of gameplay will be supported - the player might be valiant, paranoid, or socially awkward. The player might be a pacifist or a stone-cold killer. You’ll need to present players with a voice consistent with their internal view of their character via the options they may choose, and still provide them agency in how to complete the quest. If you were actually working as a narrative designer, you’d be writing all of the dialogues for every character in your quest.

Further notice that you need to provide voice direction and communicate with other designers. That means more than just narrative designers. You need to be able to communicate your ideas to the system designers, the level designers, and whoever else might be a stakeholder in the narrative you’re working on. You need to be able to convey your ideas to them, as well as take direction from them, but you cannot assume that your way will always be the best. Remember, collaborative effort. If I were the level designer for the quest area, I’d want some ideas on what you envisioned how the characters and environment would be laid out in the area but, between the two of us, I’m the expert on space and layout. You need to be ready to give notes and suggestions, but also be ready to take criticism and work with other stakeholders.

This is what game writers do. They work within the confines of somebody else’s creative vision, coming up with the interstitial glue that holds the plot together while providing the players with the agency and choices they crave. They collaborate in teams with others like level designers, gameplay programmers, environment artists, and other narrative designers. If you want to do this for a career, then you can start doing stuff like this on your own and building up a reasonable portfolio that you can show in addition to your resume.

[specterwrites]

Hello! I dont know if you've seen the news but i want to share this info from another post: Dashingdon is closing soon and if you have a WIP hosted there, you can add it to cogdemos.ink (or other place) if i remember correctly!

Thank you very much for telling me! I will remove the link in the pinned post on this blog (and try to update it on the forum post, though I don't know if I'll be able to edit it because it's been locked due to inactivity for some time).

If you want to play the game up to chapter 4, here is the new link: These Reluctant Years.

[specterwrites]

Plans for 2025

First, let me express that I hope everyone reading this had a wonderful holiday season.

My Patreon page is currently "under review" and I unfortunately don't expect to see any immediate reinstatement. Not including holidays and weekends, it has been under review for some four days, and some people online have apparently had to wait up to a month for someone to review their pages.

I will continue to search for another full-time job, but in the meantime if anyone has need of a narrative designer/editor/writer for their personal projects, I am always available for freelance work.

Regarding Years, I will of course keep working on it. Chapter 5 will have a lot of big, decisive moments, so it's likely to take me more time than I usually do to complete a chapter. Just as an example, if chapter 4 is around 114,000 words (and keep in mind this includes all four possible paths and variations within), then I anticipate chapter 5 will probably be at least 120,000. I may be able to wrap things up without a chapter 6, and then could move on to writing epilogues.

[specterwrites]

A Song Unsung

CONTENT WARNING: The following text contains ADULT CONTENT. It may include descriptions of sex, nudity, profanity, and adult situations.

THE FOLLOWING WORK HAS BEEN DECLARED APOCRYPHAL BY THE HIERARCH OF THE HOLY FELLOWSHIP OF THE FIRST SOVEREIGN. IN HIS INFALLIBLE WISDOM, THE HIERARCH MANDATES THAT ANYONE IN POSSESSION OF THIS DOCUMENT SUBMIT THEMSELVES TO THE NEAREST FACELESS GUARD AS A TRAITOR AND A HERETIC. FAILURE TO DO SO AND/OR THE REPRODUCTION, CURATION, DISSEMINATION, REPETITION (VERBAL OR OTHERWISE), AND THOUGHT OFF THIS TEXT IS PUNISHABLE BY EXECUTION.

______________________________________________________

[This work, one of many similar tales, is noteworthy both for its content and the lengths to which the Hierarchy will go in order to suppress its existence. After the Schism, massive piles of A Song Unsung and other "seditious literature" were burned in Central City, the capital of the Mainland. As a result, remaining accounts of any romantic attraction between Whitaker and His Beloved Knight are badly fragmented, though stories of their great love still circulate within Heroic and peasant communities (behind closed doors, of course). It is written both in prose and verse and, though it no longer rhymes, one can assume that it did in the Ald Mainlander language.

It should also be noted that the author, who claims to be the official court scribe of the First Sovereign, is presumably using a pseudonym. "Galen Shryven" is never mentioned in any records from Whitaker's time, and indeed may simply be a pun meaning something like "enchanting confessor".]

... ... ...

I, Galen Shryven, once the First Scribe to Ani Whitaker, First Sovereign of the Main Lande and Lion of Central City, do swear to commit to history nothing save the truth about the relationship of our Dear Lord Lion and His Beloved Knight.

Let the Ladies and Gentlefolk of the court laugh and blush and deny me as they will, but let them first heed the song of the Great Love between the two Heroes!

First, it must be said that the Boy Whitaker and the Child Knight were companions in their youth. The Child Knight was sent as squire to the Boy Whitaker's father for his heir to keep. Even then, the Would-Be-Hero Children loved each other well, and lived, trained, supped, and hunted together.

Before Unifier cleft the Main Lande, many Kingdoms claimed dominion over it. Whitaker's father was a minor King with poor land and few men who lived near the Wilderfolken Frontier. He had counselled many times with the Witch-King, father of Grimdiis, and as consequence the Three Heroes had cause to meet.

____________________

[The segue from the introduction into the first part appears to be missing.]

"And what might I call thee?" Grimdiis asked with her clever Witch Tongue.

"I am a Son of House Ani, called Whitaker, anon King of my father's lands," he answered.

"Aye and nay." The Witch-Princess had a Proud Character. "Thou art indeed a Son of House Ani, and called the White Acre, yet thou will never holy thy father's lands."

The Boy-Whitaker, who (understandably) thought this was a Witch-Trick, insisted she was wrong. "Who are you, that dares be so bold in front of me?" he demanded to know.

"I am She Who Inherited the Gift of the Dreaming, the Daughter of Witches, anon Queen of my father's lands," she answered.

Whitaker grinded his teeth when he realized he had been ensnared with tricky Witch Words, and went to strike Grimdiis, but His Beloved Knight took his fist in their hands and soothed their Lord's Fire.

"And thou...?" The Witch-Princess also had a Curious Character.

"I have no name but Squire."

Grimdiis laughed. "Thy House is a Den of Liars, Lord Ani! This one be not 'Squire,' but 'His Beloved Knight!'"

Neither the Boy-Whitaker nor the Knight-Child were quite sure what her Meaning was, but she Laughed like they were sharing a Joke among Friends.

____________________

"Our Dear Friend has gifted you a Sword, has she not?" wondered His Beloved Knight.

"You are correct, My Beloved Knight, yet I have long held a Mighty Sword -- even before meeting our Dear Friend," Whitaker boasted.

"Aye, my Lord, I Know your Sword well," the Knight confirmed. "It is my Duty as Your Beloved Knight to maintain your Sword."

"Yes, my Knight, you are a Helpful and Dutiful one, indeed... Each night, of your own volition, you enter my Chambers and assist me by Polishing my Sword. Every Stroke of your Hand across my Blade keeps It Straight and Stiff, as a Sword ought to be."

"It warms me to hear such, Lord Whitaker. Tell me, does your Sword still need Practice? Last Night, you told me that you were having Trouble Thrusting It."

Lord Lion shook his head. "No, My Knight -- I know enough about Thrusting from our nightly Sparring Matches. However, the Tip of my Sword has not Pierced anyone in a great long While..."

"How can this be...? You and Your Sword are well-renowned for Penetrating Friend and Foe alike!" His Beloved Knight lamented.

"We shall just have to keep Training, My Knight... This Evening, when you enter my Chambers to Polish my Mighty Sword, I will Show you how my Sword Penetrates, and we will proceed from there."

"Surely that would take all Night, my Lord?"

"Yes, My Beloved Knight, all Night and into the Morning..."

____________________

"And do you Love her, my Lord?" His Beloved Knight asked.

"I Love her well, as I Love all our Dear Friends and Companions."

"And yet you have Known her as a Lover..." The Knight's voice wavered at these words.

"I have, but I have also told you that I do not Love her as a Lover. Are my Words not enough Assurance, Beloved Knight?" Whitaker was moved by His Beloved Knight's lament.

"Perhaps... if there were Some Way to Express your Words..."

The First Sovereign Embraced His Beloved Knight. In the Evening, he proved both his Devotion and his Reputation for having a Tricky and Dexterous Tongue. The Knight, Whitaker's Beloved, Laid down at their Lord's side. In the Morning, the Sovereign Called his Good and Faithful Scribe, who Committed to History the Great Love he Shared with His Beloved Knight.

[specterwrites]

Rumspringa

CONTENT WARNING: The following text is ADULT CONTENT. It may include descriptions of sex, nudity, profanity, and adult situations.

This series of short stories were originally available on my Patreon page. They show a little bit about what Corporal Prudence Pri was up to before she joined the Corps as a Frontierswoman.

"Well maybe I don' wanna be a 'lady'!" Prudence protested. The familiar debate with her familiar excuses had been going on for fifteen minutes, already. Poor, sweet Chaplain Kirk was trying to persuade her for (at least) the five thousandth time to abandon her wild, fanciful nature and take up her place as a proper gentlewoman of House Pri. If not for the sake of the chaplain's or her family's sanity, then at least to uphold the Natural Order, as all noble folk ought to do... The future corporal would not hear it, however.

"It is the duty of those of your station to-" Kirk tried again.

"-Me 'duty' can go hang!" Prudence scoffed. "Get one o'me sisters ta be yer 'lady' -- but I ain't it!"

She stomped out of the little chapel she had spent so much of her childhood in. House Pri had always maintained a close connection to the Hierarchy. Indeed, her uncle Burton was the Hierarch, the ultimate religious authority in the Sovereignty. Somewhat ironically, though, the Hierarch's "holy" qualities apparently did not extend to his family. Burton's brother and Prudence's father was famous in the capital for being a romantic and a libertine. He was quite happy with his existence as a perpetual bachelor, and fathered several children (all daughters) with whatever new paramour happened to catch his eye. Once his children were born, though, he of course abandoned them and their mothers to a provincial life on his house's ancestral lands. The mothers themselves did not necessarily have a claim on noble blood, but his daughters were treated as any forgotten child of a nobleman was -- with distant, expectation-filled detachment.

Prudence scowled, picked up a rock, and hurled it into the forest next to the chapel. She narrowed her eyes, spit to the side, and decided to take a walk through the woods to relieve some stress. A short way into the forest, just when she could no longer see the chapel behind her, Prudence paused on the dirty bank of a dark, still pond. She sat down in the rich forest soil that stank of life and death and leaned back against a tree. There, she scuffed her heels into the earth and absently traced smiley faces into the leaf litter beside her.

Until the sound of a breaking branch caught her attention.

With a soldier's instincts, she sprang to her feet and brandished a particularly pointy twig in the direction of the noise. A mousy, doe-eyed young man stared back at her from behind a tree. He crept forward and blinked slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure that what he was seeing could be real.

"Is it... Is that you?" he whispered.

Prudence was momentarily confused. Understandable, because she had seen him since they both grew up. His button nose, though, all covered in freckles like an artist had painted them across his face with a brush... She remembered those, and soon she remembered him.

Yeah, I remember... she thought. "Amal", I think 'is name was, though I called 'im "Sprout" on account of 'is size...

It was true: Amal was very small, a trait which was exaggerated to an almost comical extent when compared to Prudence's height and musculature. He cautiously emerged from behind the tree and approached her.

"It is you, isn't it?" he said, marveling at the coincidence.

"Er, uhh... Yeah, Sprout... S'me..." Prudence awkwardly responded. She usually never got tongue-tied, but this was a special circumstance. She had last seen Amal before they sent her away, and she still fondly recalled the warm summer nights her first love spent in her arms. That was years ago, though, and there was no way of knowing if he even still felt the same.

Silence descended around the pond as the atmosphere slowly grew more tense. In times like these, when one has a reunion with another who they never had the chance to properly say good-bye to, the emotions they'd suppressed during their last meeting tend to stir in each's bellies almost immediately. This reunion was no exception, and the pair lunged into an embrace in an expression of pure emotion. As they held each other, they rocked back and forth, as if to make certain that the other was tangible.

"Yer still-!"

"I can't believe-!"

They pulled apart to speak, but at once realized that nothing more needed to be said. Gently, Prudence placed her hand on Amal's shoulder and drew it toward his face until she held his cheek in her palm. She ran her thumb across it, and he smiled.

"I missed you terribly," Amal said. "I've been wanting to... ... ... to do something, I..." He trailed off, lost in her eyes. "I... ... ... want..."

"I want this, too," Prudence breathed.

Amal gulped, not seeming to know how to proceed. Prudence chuckled, placed her hand back on his shoulder, and guided him back to the tree she had been leaning against. She pushed him against it, and sank down so that he was sitting and she was squatting. Amal delicately reached for the top button of her jacket, hesitated for just a second, and then began to frantically undo them all. She tossed the opened jacket aside and leaned in closer.

Amal placed his hand on her shoulder, as she had done to him, and slowly traced the curvature of her skin down to her bare breast. Prudence exhaled excitedly when his hand came to rest just above her right hip. She slipped her fingers into the top of his trousers, and they simultaneously exposed their amorous intentions. Prudence cradled the back of his head, let it sit on top of her shoulder, and embraced him in quite a different way than the first time.

He writhed in ecstasy and softly grasped at her shoulder blades as they continued to share what could not be expressed in words -- how filled with regret they were for what could never have been between them, how safe he feels in her arms, and how much they will both treasure this reunion of two hearts, two spirits, and two bodies.

As Amal reached his limit, Prudence gasped and shivered. With much reluctance, the pair disentangled themselves and laid peacefully naked beside the pond. Prudence rolled over onto her side and propped up her chin with her elbow. Her "Sprout" was looking into her eyes, a pleasant blush making his freckles all the more vibrant. For just a moment, at least, they could be apart from the world, together.

But though each wished they could remain in blissful passion for the rest of their days, the time eventually came for them to part again. Once fully clothed, Prudence again embraced Amal, but this time picked him right up off the ground. He smiled and leaned into the hug and her touch.

"You didn't forget..." he remarked to no one in particular. "I didn't forget, and I never will..."

"Never," Prudence promised.

She dragged her feet on the way back to her house's lands, and he was lost in wistful memories as he returned to the fields.

____________________

Long, long before Prudence joined the Frontiersmen Corps, she was expected to follow her family's example and enter into the Fellowship. Many of her sisters had already taken their rites, and Temperance had become a catechist of the Order of Missionaries. Prudence, however, was destined for different things.

After being caught holding hands with a farmhand, Chaplain Kirk advised her father to send her away to a convent... In order to "preserve her modesty for marriage", apparently... At thirteen, she was shipped off to an all-girl's boarding academy that specialized in "setting disruptive young ladies straight". Every effort was made to mold her into a proper gentlewoman... and (as a completely unintentional bonus, you understand) gain favor with the influential House Pri.

Her tutors were thorough, though she already knew all of what they taught. In class, she excelled in rhetoric, logic, and reasoning... though never in the way she was expected to. Prudence, obviously a gifted athlete, was also adept at communication and camaraderie. The instructors at the academy fretted over her frank attitude and commoner's affect, they had to acknowledge that Prudence had a way with people that inspired confidence in her and all she did.

One afternoon, while she and her classmates ate lunch by the sports field, the discussion turned to a nearby academy, similar to their own save one aspect: this one only admitted boys.

"Yeah, boys is all right, I guess. They's sweet, at least," Prudence commented before taking another bite of her apple.

"You didn't see the way we looked at each other, Prudie..." Simone Sai sighed. She was one of the eleven siblings of House Sai, whose large family was and still is a favorite subject of gossip in Sovereign's Refuge. "He was in the lobby to deliver a letter that was wrongly addressed, and our eyes locked... He took my hand, bowed, and kissed it..."

"He has to be noble," another girl added. "No son of the Landed Elite would act so well."

"Pssh..." Prudence scoffed. "Any ponce can act all proper -- house 'r no house! 'Ere, watch..." She rolled her shoulders and sauntered gallantly over to the bench where Simone was seated. Miss Sai smiled bashfully and looked to the side.

"M'lady Sai," Prudence addressed her as she bowed with a flourish. She gracefully picked up Simone's hand in her own, brought it up to her lips, and kissed it softly. Simone grinned wider and began to blush.

"Why, Lady Pri," she pretended to gasp, "that is indeed how a noble ought to act!"

Prudence winked at her and jerked her head over to a nearby equipment shed. Simone fluttered her eyelashes and nodded. The two gentlewomen exchanged presents, secrets, and kisses in that shed every weekend for three months until they were caught. Nowhere in the Sovereignty is safe for those considered "deviants", and same-gender coupling is punishable by execution, just like every other "deviation" from the so-called Natural Order.

If they both hadn't been nobility, the pair would doubtlessly have been shot without trial by a Faceless Guard. The Sovereignty does not tolerate "deviancy", even in teenagers. However, due to their noble status, they were given a choice: denounce their love as a work of evil and return to Society forever marked as a "deviant", or accept a life in exile as a member of the Frontiersmen Corps. Before the deadline came to make their decision, Simone came to Prudence, weeping.

"It isn't fair, it isn't fair..." she repeated over and over as she clung to Prudence's elbow.

"I know... I know..." Prudence whispered back with an edge and bitterness to her voice that Lady Sai had not heard before.

The following day, Simone returned to her family and Prudence was conscripted into the Corps.

____________________

"Naw... That can't be right! Lemme see!" Prudence insisted. She knew she scored higher than that. But there, typed in red ink, on her assessment were the words: "SCORE ADJUSTED FOR DEVIANCY". She huffed and slammed the test results back on the table.

O'course they'd lower it... she thought.

Prudence had been in bureaucratic limbo for two weeks, which was thirteen days longer than she had patience for. Normally, recruits into the Corps are given some vague directions by some vague authority figure and everyone endeavors to forget the whole process. Due to her prominent heritage, however, the Sovereignty was taking its sweet-ass time. Containing the scandal that the Hierarch's niece was a "deviant" required significant damage control, and damage control requires time. And so, for the moment, she was stuck in the middle of nowhere -- an abandoned farmstead appropriated by the Sovereignty to serve as a launching point for the Frontiersmen.

An older man was observing her curiously, and went to sit next to her.

"I can't help but notice you stickin' out, here, girlie," Reid prompted. "What's it you're doin' here, for...?"

"Workin' 'ard fer nothin'..." she replied bitterly.

Reid was surprised both by her candid answer and her commoner's accent. Prudence had the look of a noblewoman about her, or at the very least she seemed like one of the Landed Elite. It was understandable, then, that he wondered what in the bloody Blessed Unconsciousness she was doing here with the rest of the dregs of the Sovereignty.

Not wanting to further sour her mood, he changed the subject. "Say, girlie... I was thinkin' you look a lot like Whitaker... Some missionaries came into my work, one day, 'n they brought this picture-book -- real lovely pictures, too -- and, anyway, one of them pictures was of Whitaker, and you look like him real well... ... ...

"'Cept you're a lady, I guess..."

"Ahaw, haw, haw!" Prudence laughed. "I may be a woman, old-timer, but I ain't no lady."

Reid thought this was quite clever and, whenever he took it upon himself to introduce Prudence, he would say that: "the Corps's got some women in it, but there ain't no ladies, nowhere!"

____________________

"P-please, don't... ... ... don't stop-!" the young woman gasped breathlessly.

Prudence grinned and continued exploring her hair with one hand while she explored much lower with the other hand. Since becoming a militiawoman, she had fully embraced the soldier's lifestyle... and all the broken hearts that came with it. That night, she was tangled in the sheets of a slumlord's daughter, as she had been for a week before while she was in town.

She regarded her lover's choice of rendezvous location with particular disdain. Oh, she was sweet, but something rubbed Prudence the wrong way (while she was rubbing someone else the right way)... The bedroom, tucked away in some overly-partitioned corner of a ramshackle apartment building, was furnished as sparsely as possible. Her dingy Frontiersmen jacket seemed oddly fitting among the grimy room, but out of place in the presence of such a wealthy bachelorette.

After their love-making had crescendo'd, Prudence threw on her jacket, hung her feet over the side of the bed, and stared at the floor. A folded piece of paper caught her eye, and she reached out for it. The slumlord's daughter saw her doing this, and became flustered.

"O-oh, no! That's nothing, really... It's just something silly -- a piece of litter I happened to pick up..." she tried to excuse the radical pamphlet lying in her room.

Prudence hardly heard her, however. She skimmed the first few lines, asked if she could borrow it, gingerly kissed her lover on the forehead, and descended down some rickety steps into the cool, crisp night.

Goldendoor, Goldendoor... she repeated over and over in her head. What are you up to, now?

[specterwrites]

Patreon Update

After looking into the matter, I have come to the conclusion that I should be able to reopen my Patreon page without going public with my legal identity as long as there is no accessible adult content. To that end, I have deleted all adult/18+ short stories from Patreon (and edited the proper tiers to reflect their absence going forward). I have submitted a request to Patreon to get the adult content flag removed from my account, so hopefully it doesn't take too long.

I have also decided to make the deleted short stories ("Rumspringa" and "A Song Unsung") available on Tumblr.

[specterwrites]

I hope your patreon situation gets sorted out soon

I just found this Years WIP yesterday and feared it was dead so still glad to see any news :D

I hope your patreon situation gets sorted out soon

You and me both. (;

I just found this Years WIP yesterday and feared it was dead so still glad to see any news :D

Glad I didn't disappoint!

[specterwrites]

A Long Overdue Update

Whelp I have some bad news and some news that could be good or bad depending on one's perspective.

Firstly, the bad news: I've been fired. I will need to navigate the hurdles of medical insurance, rent payments, and caring for elderly relatives without a stable income.

Additionally, my Patreon (which I've not updated in quite some time, so this is entirely my fault) was suspended for lack of update and/or inability to verify my identity. As I'm sure everyone can imagine, it will likely be difficult to verify my identity given my pen name is not my legal name. I take my privacy very seriously, and may have to establish an LLC in the near future to deal with legal issues such as this.

I have also been candid in the past on this blog about trying to repair the old laptop on which I wrote most of my, well...everything. I took it to three different repair shops, with every one of them concluded that it is well and truly unsalvageable. There's a small silver lining in that technicians were able to recover its data, so I am not literally beginning from zero (just very, very close to it).

The good-or-bad-depending-on-one's-perspective news is that I will have time to work on personal and freelance projects while I search for a new, full-time job. Last time, it took around two and a half years and thousands of applications, so I do not anticipate anything solid for at least a couple years more.

I ask for your patience during this difficult time in my life. I understand that many people have been waiting for an update to Years for, well...years, but I would appreciate some grace from my readers as I navigate everything.

[specterwrites]

Hey, are you doing okay? You've been silent, and I hope you are doing well, and life is treating you with kindness.

Thank you for the kind words, Anonymous! I'm doing fine -- I've just been very busy. My "day job," as it were, is still writing for a small game studio, and production is ramping up somewhat.

I hope life is treating you well, too!

[specterwrites]

Love the game, love the story, and also the MC's kindness has no limits.

Really great game though, I love it.

Love the game, love the story

Really great game though, I love it.

Thank you very much! I'm glad you like it. (:

the MC's kindness has no limits.

The only limiting factor is the brutal, imperialist dictatorship! And, er, the UI, apparently...

[specterwrites]

Hey! How are you doing? Any progress with your game?

Hey! How are you doing?

Well, I'm not dead, which might come as a welcome update!

Any progress with your game?

Unfortunately, not so much. A major shake-up at work and the fact that the computer I did most of my writing on started to refuse to turn on mean that I haven't had much time for personal projects.

[specterwrites]

Is it strange that, our of all the characters, I would most likely romance Faceless Guard 11 if he was an option xD

I don't know, the politeness despite being your enemy and the fact that you can actually talk him (?) Down, I just like him xD For now though, I will stick to our strange "Soulmates" :3

Otherwise though, I am glad I was reccomended this WIP on Reddit, it really sucked me in! I quite like it :3

Is it strange that, our of all the characters, I would most likely romance Faceless Guard 11 if he was an option xD

Alas, Faceless Guards only have room for one love in their hearts: whoever happens to be sovereign. ):

Otherwise though, I am glad I was reccomended this WIP on Reddit, it really sucked me in! I quite like it :3

I'm so glad!

[specterwrites]

hii I hope that you are doing well?? how are you?? :)

Thank you for asking! Things are pretty stressful at work, lately, but I'm not dead!

[specterwrites]

Hi, hope you´re well. Just wanted to ask how´s the game doing?

I'm well, thank you. (:

Years is still going, though I can't really say that it's going very fast. My situation at work is still busy, which means I don't have a lot of time to spare on personal proects. Thank you for your understanding! (:

[specterwrites]

Hello there! How are you doing dear author?

I have been exceedingly looking forward to further updates since your last one. "The paths to greatness" was seriously underrated, but "Those reluctant years" is an incredible upgrade beyond any expectations. Are you still working on it ?

Hello there! How are you doing dear author?

Hello! I'm doing fine. (:

The paths to greatness" was seriously underrated,

Thank you! I'm glad at least one other person than myself thinks so!

Those reluctant years" is an incredible upgrade beyond any expectations. Are you still working on it ?

Firstly, thank you for the kind words! I am still working on Years, but both work and my personal life have haulted the once-steady pace I had a few years ago. When I was doing freelance work, substantial jobs could be months apart, which gave me time to write These Reluctant Years on a more set pace. Working in a studio setting is great because of the job security, but it gives me less free time to work on personal projects.

I work on it when I can, but you can imagine that a few hundred or thousand words added here or there spread out over the course of months isn't going to make as much of a dent in the remaining work as having the majority of daylight hours to devote solely to finishing Years.

[specterwrites]

Don’t know if you’ve already answered a question like this, but I’m curious to how the ROs would ask MC to be their valentine?

I love this game by the way; every time I play it, I find this new piece of dialogue. It’s crazily detailed!

Don’t know if you’ve already answered a question like this, but I’m curious to how the ROs would ask MC to be their valentine?

Lázaro: I think he would find the whole concept somewhat silly and forego asking, but he'd accept an invitation from an MC.

Belvidere: Artfully asked in gilded calligraphy inside a box of the finest Mainland chocolates.

Prudence: She would just ask -- no room for bashfulness in this squad!

Blythe: He would "ask" very imperiously, like: "You will be our valentine." And then he would expect MC to do something for him (without doing anything in return, of course).

MC1/MC2: Up to the reader, though I don't see a Sovereignty-supporting MC1 to lower themself to speak with MC2.

I love this game by the way; every time I play it, I find this new piece of dialogue. It’s crazily detailed!

Thank you very much -- I'm glad you're enjoying it!

[specterwrites]

Hello! And a happy New Year to you, dear author! I've been enjoying your WIP for quite some time, and I must say that you have a fantastic talent for writing, and your story just gets better and better with time, keep it up! I was wondering, would we be able to kill our brother, if we played as 100% loyal to the sovereignty cause? I mean, our father is certainly not very happy with him, but I see that if our character wants respect from him, we must deserve it, and it seems like a perfect case f

Hello! And a happy New Year to you, dear author!

Happy 2023 to you, too!

I've been enjoying your WIP for quite some time, and I must say that you have a fantastic talent for writing, and your story just gets better and better with time, keep it up!

Thank you very much -- I'm glad you've enjoyed it!

I was wondering, would we be able to kill our brother, if we played as 100% loyal to the sovereignty cause? I mean, our father is certainly not very happy with him, but I see that if our character wants respect from him, we must deserve it, and it seems like a perfect case f

Oh, no! It looks like the Faceless Guard got you mid-sentence for spreading treasonous thoughts about a fine, upstanding member of the Sovereignty!

In all seriousness, though, yes -- I do think Abner III will have a chance to get what he's given, as it were. Whether or not this results in his death will be up to the player, I believe, but l try to treat non-player character arcs the same way I treat player characters. That is, there are some story-mandated things that have to happen and might be advantageous if you're taking advantage of a privileged position in society, but even the most well-positioned person cannot act like a complete irredeemable mooch and expect to get out of conflict completely unscathed.

Even if he makes it through the revolution alive, let's just say that it wouldn't surprise me if he were found sometime later shanked in an alley or """disappeared""' by the Faceless Guard for having a smart mouth.