A dark fantasy universe where the sun has shattered. Three major powers vie for dominion over the shards, while ancient forces manipulate the conflict from the shadows.
Establishing the "Shattered Sun" lore, core factions (Valerian Empire, Drakara, Abyssals), and mechanical systems. Initial character sketches and tone bibles were finalized.
Experimentation with various engines. Ren'Py was ultimately selected for its narrative scalability and superior handling of complex branching states. The asset pipeline for the "Iron Citadel" visuals was developed.
First playable slice featuring the opening chapter and the "Corruption" system introduction. Scheduled for release on website and select indie platforms.
The central continent, a land of stark contrasts. From the frozen northern peaks where only the desperate survive, to the fertile marshlands that feed the Imperial war machine. It is a land of law, iron, and blood.
An archipelago of bioluminescent jungles and massive, skyscraper-sized trees. The humidity hangs heavy here, and the magic of the Shards has caused the flora to evolve rapidly. It is beautiful, but deadly to outsiders.
A scorched wasteland of black sand and volcanic glass. The heat is oppressive. The cities here are built like fortresses against the elements and the giant fauna that roam the dunes.
A rogue continent that floats above the cloud layer, perpetually shrouded in purple mists. It moves with the wind currents, casting a shadow of bad omens wherever it drifts. The gravity here is loose and unpredictable.
"We built the walls. We forged the steel. This shattered world is ours to fix, by any means necessary."
Physically diverse but culturally unified by the Empire, Humans view themselves as the rightful protagonists of history. Their architecture is monumental—stone and iron—reflecting their desire for permanence in a dying world. They control the trade routes and the agricultural heartland.
"Your machines bleed the earth. We only ask that the roots be allowed to drink."
Tall, ethereal, with eyes that reflect the starlight they worship. Elves live thousands of years, giving them a detached, long-term perspective that Humans mistake for arrogance. They weave magic into wood and bone, creating cities that grow rather than are built.
"To serve is to belong. To belong is to be safe."
Lithe and long-eared, Hares blend Prowler agility with Packer cohesion, trading ferocity for a temperament ranging from demure to energetic. As the realm's premier caregivers—stewards, tavern staff, and attendants—they navigate complex social moods, becoming the indispensable glue of every household.
"Walls are for those who can't jump. Rules are for those who can't run."
Agile, feline humanoids who live on the fringes of society. With ears that twitch at every sound and tails that aid their balance, they are natural acrobats. They are a nomadic people, valuing freedom above all else, often serving as couriers, spies, or entertainers.
"The pack is the shield. The shield is the wall. We do not break."
Stocky, powerful canine-kin. They align themselves closely with Humans, serving as elite guards and soldiers. Their loyalty is absolute; once a Packer pledges service, they will die before breaking their word. They are the backbone of the Imperial defensive lines.
"Fire cleanses. Strength commands. We do not beg for what is ours."
Imposing figures of scale and muscle, the Drakara are obsessed with the past glory of their dragon ancestors. Horns, tails, and patches of armored skin mark them as apart. Their culture is a meritocracy of combat and craft; a smith is as valued as a general, provided their steel is true.
"The truth is a dagger. Best kept hidden until the throat is bared."
Violet-skinned aristocrats who dwell in the shadows. They possess tails and slight horns, but their true weapon is their intellect. Abyssals view direct conflict as vulgar; they prefer to pull the strings of global politics, orchestrating wars to weaken the other races for the inevitable invasion.