04-30-2013, 03:14 PM
Overland is a survival, exploration sandbox, inspired by games like Minecraft. I spent some time writing and rewriting the rules, but when I found RPG Solo, I figured I had to try in this format. Usually, this game ends in death. The trick is to find a meaning to that death.
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My father was a lumberjack, did I follow in his footsteps?
Yes, but...
As I grew, I learned the way of the woods from my nearly silent father. Quiet but strong. He would heft his huge ax upon his shoulder before heading out in the early dawn as the amber sun rose over the horizon. He would not wake me, so I had to sleep lightly lest he leave before I opened my eyes. I would trail behind him in the dark, frightening guttural sounds coming from the shadows.
When I grew, I became a lumberjack as well, but it was never something I loved. Not like him. I was always more interested in exploring new vistas and dark places. Not chopping wood all day. I left home when I realized that I needed to live, to experience life on my own. I took my ax and a torch and just started walking.
I walked through deep, green forests where the sun barely filtered through the leaves. Did I stay there?
No.
I walked through misty rain forest, giant vined trees looming overhead and strange monkeys chittering out of view. Did I stay there?
No.
I sloshed through tepid swamp, moss hanging from trees like witch's hair. Unseen slithering things gurgling and splashing under the brackish water. Did I stay there?
No.
I trekked through blazing desert, scurrying from what little shade I could find to the next. The heat made the air waver like water and I learned to drink from the cacti that I found. Did I stay there?
Yes, but...
It was three days into the desert that I ran out of water. I should have planned better, but you know what they say about hindsight. Too far to go back now, I could merely push on. I knew that I would die if I could not find water this day. My skin was dry and baked like hard leather and my face felt alien, a stranger's face. Ahead, I saw a depression in the sand. Was it an oasis?
No, and...
I got excited and dashed towards the depression, ready to throw myself into the water. It was too late when I realized that it was no oasis, but a deep pit leading into the earth. In the side of the pit, a cave entrance looked ominous and uninviting. Yet, I heard a sound. A drip of water. I listened closer, believing it was a trick of my sun maddened senses. Yet, I heard a second drip.
I lit my one torch and held the ax in front of me like a weapon and walked through the cave entrance. Was there something in the cavern before me?
No.
The cave tunnel was dry and dusty. Every sound seemed to echo and assaulted my ears. If there was anything hostile in this cave, I would not be sneaking up on it. I edged forward, dreaming of a pool of cool subterranean water. Did the cave keep going?
Yes.
Was there something in the cave?
No.
Further down I crept into the cavern. My shoulders ached from tensely holding the ax and torch out in front of me. I was dehydrated and starting to hallucinate. I saw demonic faces in the shadows which disappeared when my torchlight stuck them. Did the cave keep going?
Yes.
Was there something in the cave?
No.
I sat down in the dust and ate my last bit of dried meat. It barely went down as I had nothing to drink. I sat in depression for a while before getting myself back up and walking further. This cave will be my savoir or my death. Did the cave keep going?
No.
I don't know how long I had explored the cave when I came to a dead end. The cave just stopped. I would have sobbed had I any water in my body to spare. Starving, hungry and exhuasted, I resolved to make it back to the surface. Did I make it back up?
Yes, but...
My torch ran out just as I reached the entrance of the cave. I dropped the steaming piece of wood and cloth. Overhead the moon was full and lit the desert around me. I could travel at night and try to find a way from this hell. I climbed out of the pit and made off North by the stars. Did I make it out of the desert?
No, and...
As I trekked through the darkness in the sand, I heard a howl far away. Then another closer. I strained to see what foul beast would utter such a chilling call, but could see nothing. I took up faster, walking as quickly as my tired legs would take me. Ahead in the moonlight I saw a twisted shape, a thin shaggy beast on four legs. It's eyes glowed in the luminescence and chilled me to the core. It howled and I heard two others reply behind me. Did the beasts attack?
Yes.
The beast in front of me sat patiently, staring poisonously at me. Then I heard a rush and the spilling of sand behind me as one of the other two rushed me. I spun and swung wildly with the ax. I'd used the ax all my life to cut trees, but never to strike a moving creature. Did I hit the rushing beast?
No.
The beast bowled into me, knocking me over. It's dripping maw smelled like dead flesh as it breathed into my face. I held the snapping teeth at back with one hand on his neck. The hand with the ax, I tried to cut into his pelt. Did I hit the beast?
No.
The beast pivoted before I could sink the ax into his side and it bit into the sand only. He grabbed hold of the free arm in his strong jaws and held me as I heard the other two beasts closing in. The flesh tore on my arm as it bit deep to keep hold. Did the other two beasts reach me?
Yes.
Did the beasts slay me?
Yes, and...
The three beasts began to tear at my body, snapping chunks of flesh away with sharp teeth. I thought of my father on the day I left telling me that it was a dangerous world. He did not know how true that was.
--------
My father was a lumberjack, did I follow in his footsteps?
Yes, but...
As I grew, I learned the way of the woods from my nearly silent father. Quiet but strong. He would heft his huge ax upon his shoulder before heading out in the early dawn as the amber sun rose over the horizon. He would not wake me, so I had to sleep lightly lest he leave before I opened my eyes. I would trail behind him in the dark, frightening guttural sounds coming from the shadows.
When I grew, I became a lumberjack as well, but it was never something I loved. Not like him. I was always more interested in exploring new vistas and dark places. Not chopping wood all day. I left home when I realized that I needed to live, to experience life on my own. I took my ax and a torch and just started walking.
I walked through deep, green forests where the sun barely filtered through the leaves. Did I stay there?
No.
I walked through misty rain forest, giant vined trees looming overhead and strange monkeys chittering out of view. Did I stay there?
No.
I sloshed through tepid swamp, moss hanging from trees like witch's hair. Unseen slithering things gurgling and splashing under the brackish water. Did I stay there?
No.
I trekked through blazing desert, scurrying from what little shade I could find to the next. The heat made the air waver like water and I learned to drink from the cacti that I found. Did I stay there?
Yes, but...
It was three days into the desert that I ran out of water. I should have planned better, but you know what they say about hindsight. Too far to go back now, I could merely push on. I knew that I would die if I could not find water this day. My skin was dry and baked like hard leather and my face felt alien, a stranger's face. Ahead, I saw a depression in the sand. Was it an oasis?
No, and...
I got excited and dashed towards the depression, ready to throw myself into the water. It was too late when I realized that it was no oasis, but a deep pit leading into the earth. In the side of the pit, a cave entrance looked ominous and uninviting. Yet, I heard a sound. A drip of water. I listened closer, believing it was a trick of my sun maddened senses. Yet, I heard a second drip.
I lit my one torch and held the ax in front of me like a weapon and walked through the cave entrance. Was there something in the cavern before me?
No.
The cave tunnel was dry and dusty. Every sound seemed to echo and assaulted my ears. If there was anything hostile in this cave, I would not be sneaking up on it. I edged forward, dreaming of a pool of cool subterranean water. Did the cave keep going?
Yes.
Was there something in the cave?
No.
Further down I crept into the cavern. My shoulders ached from tensely holding the ax and torch out in front of me. I was dehydrated and starting to hallucinate. I saw demonic faces in the shadows which disappeared when my torchlight stuck them. Did the cave keep going?
Yes.
Was there something in the cave?
No.
I sat down in the dust and ate my last bit of dried meat. It barely went down as I had nothing to drink. I sat in depression for a while before getting myself back up and walking further. This cave will be my savoir or my death. Did the cave keep going?
No.
I don't know how long I had explored the cave when I came to a dead end. The cave just stopped. I would have sobbed had I any water in my body to spare. Starving, hungry and exhuasted, I resolved to make it back to the surface. Did I make it back up?
Yes, but...
My torch ran out just as I reached the entrance of the cave. I dropped the steaming piece of wood and cloth. Overhead the moon was full and lit the desert around me. I could travel at night and try to find a way from this hell. I climbed out of the pit and made off North by the stars. Did I make it out of the desert?
No, and...
As I trekked through the darkness in the sand, I heard a howl far away. Then another closer. I strained to see what foul beast would utter such a chilling call, but could see nothing. I took up faster, walking as quickly as my tired legs would take me. Ahead in the moonlight I saw a twisted shape, a thin shaggy beast on four legs. It's eyes glowed in the luminescence and chilled me to the core. It howled and I heard two others reply behind me. Did the beasts attack?
Yes.
The beast in front of me sat patiently, staring poisonously at me. Then I heard a rush and the spilling of sand behind me as one of the other two rushed me. I spun and swung wildly with the ax. I'd used the ax all my life to cut trees, but never to strike a moving creature. Did I hit the rushing beast?
No.
The beast bowled into me, knocking me over. It's dripping maw smelled like dead flesh as it breathed into my face. I held the snapping teeth at back with one hand on his neck. The hand with the ax, I tried to cut into his pelt. Did I hit the beast?
No.
The beast pivoted before I could sink the ax into his side and it bit into the sand only. He grabbed hold of the free arm in his strong jaws and held me as I heard the other two beasts closing in. The flesh tore on my arm as it bit deep to keep hold. Did the other two beasts reach me?
Yes.
Did the beasts slay me?
Yes, and...
The three beasts began to tear at my body, snapping chunks of flesh away with sharp teeth. I thought of my father on the day I left telling me that it was a dangerous world. He did not know how true that was.
