Game: SpaceDweller
Autonomous Empire Satellite #3982 Log:
00:35:11: Performing scan...
00:35:17: No contacts…
02:23:45: Performing scan…
02:23:52: No contacts…
03:14:25: Hostile weaponized NSA ship on direct course towards current position.
03:14:29: Weapons warming up.
03:14:37: Incoming energy payload. Tagged as projectile threat 1.
03:14:39: Projectile threat 1 successfully evaded.
03:14:45: Firing energy projectile at hostile NSA Flagship.
03:14:49: Incoming energy payload. Tagged as projectile threat 2.
03:14:53: Energy projectile missed hostile NSA Flagship.
03:14:59: Projectile threat 2 landed a hit on Autonomous Empire Satellite #3982. Damage sustained.
03:15:05: Incoming energy payload. Tagged as projectile threat 3.
03:15:12: Projec… …. Hit… Sate… …ical…. Sustained…
03:15:14: Au… lite… loss of…
03:15:17: Connection to Autonomous Empire Satellite #3982 has been lost.
Game: SpaceDweller
01:10:00: Currently, everything is all quiet. There is nothing to report.
01:20:00: An Empire Flagship has gone silent. Will attempt to establish communications and I shall personally seek their ship out at their last known location.
01:35:00: The last known location of the flagship is only a bombed out shell of a ship with scattered debris. Did we miss a NSA ship?
01:55:00: Rumors of a NSA flagship that has made it through the first attack are coming in from scouts and from a few service stations. I will be checking for myself.
02:15:00: I have seen the ship myself, now. They were only able to hide for so long. A NSA Flagship appears to have survived the initial attack on the sector due to a few reports. No clue how, but they shouldn’t be too difficult to destroy. I shall wait at the warp beacon so they don’t end up wiggling through my grasp.
02:45:00: The NSA ship has finally arrived at the beacon. Moving to engage.
02:55:00: Connection has been lost. The Hunter Ship is presumably destroyed.
--Log End--
A forum post for a small game currently in development.
As the legend goes, “In the last battle of Great War between demons and humans, the Lord of Demons was fatally wounded. After escaping and evading his pursuers, on the cusp of death, he used the rest of his magic to create a tower. This tower loomed over the battlefield, his enemies stuck at the very base of the tower. Now, the Demon Lord rests at the top of the tower, gathering strength. Terror and destruction are sure to come, should he be able to attack once again."
Hard to tell if it really happened this way. It has been many, many years since the last hero of the Great War passed away. All we have now are legends and stories. But it cannot just be a fairy tale, can it? The tower still stands, and to this day, is still the last unconquered territory of the demon race.
It remains unconquered to this day, and for good reason. Since its creation, it has been full of traps, monsters, treasures, and even contains mysteries that need to be solved. It’s been great for business though. A town was built at the base of the tower, filled with profiteering merchants looking to gain coin to supply the adventurers who are brave enough, and foolish enough, to accept the tower’s challenge and venture inside.
Excerpt from my own, unnamed book.
Zia abruptly awoke to the smell of acrid smoke on the air. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he sat up groggily, followed by a rough collision between his forehead and the bed above his own. Collapsing back into his bed, he turned and rolled off, onto and onto the lavish carpet beneath. He lay there for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips. Cracking one eye open, he scanned the dark room. Glancing up the the coat rack, his coat dangled alone, softly fluttering. Normally, two other coats accompanied his, yet they were nowhere to be seen. Piles of maps were strewn about the room in a haphazard fashion, some piles threatening to tumble and cover the floor.
The solid oak door that separated his room from the hallway outside with shut tightly. A frosted window that took up a large portion of one of the walls of the room let in a pale light. However, it wasn’t bright enough to be morning yet. Another source of light gently drifted in; a warm, steady glow, too orange to be the sun, yet Zia couldn’t place what caused it.