Hello, I’m Dan, and I play video games. It all started back in the mid 1990s, with the family computer running MS-DOS. We had a host of educational games to teach my sisters and I all the important things like math and reading; one of these games was Mickey’s ABC’s: A Day at The Fair. Obviously, though, with me being born at the end of the ’80s and going through adolescence in the ’90s, video games became an integral part of my life; and that old family computer was no exception. A few of the games I remember best and loved the most were Freddy’s Rescue Roundup by IBM and Oil’s Well by Sierra-Online.









When my dad got a new computer at work running Windows 95, life got awesome. I remember being excited any time I could go to his office when he wasn’t needing his computer. That computer had the “entertainment pack”, and with the “entertainment pack” came games. Lots of games (to me, at least). There were a myriad of solitaire and poker clones as well as puzzle games. Most of these didn’t interest me though (very few of them even interest me now). The two games I spent my time on were SkiFree and Chip’s Challenge. Now that I think about it, the yeti in SkiFree still vexes me to this day; Yeti, bear, stick-figure-with-a-round-body… point is, he still vexes me. It was if the creator of the game had a personal vendetta against my little dude on skis. This vendetta was so vehement that every time I managed to get past the yeti, a new one would appear out of no where, gulp me down, and use the ski pole as a toothpick. Thanks, Chris, thanks a lot.

In 1997, my family moved to a small town where my dad took the pastorate at small church. Along with the move, my grandparents bought us our very own Gateway 2000 running Windows 95, and along with it came the games I had grown to love! It was then that I dedicated myself to beating Chip’s Challenge. This took multiple years because of distractions and loss of enthusiasm, but I am proud to say I have beaten it. That game is still awesome. With the new computer came new educational games from the Reader Rabbit franchise and Ohio Distinctive Software. Even though I played these games a lot, there were other games I played more. Hover was great, and Pole Position, Dig Dug, as well as the rest of the Microsoft Arcade were favorites.

Then, one day, something magical happened that would forever change my gaming experience. I was shopping with my mother at the grocery store, doing the normal aisle-to-aisle shopping routine. This time, though, something got the attention of the usually bored (and probably whiney) little boy: Chex cereal, a cereal I hated then and still hate to this day had advertised on the cover the fact that a free game was in the box. After convincing my mother that I would eat all of the cereal, she informed me that my father would still have to approve the game before I could play it. Eventually, my parents sat me down and explained to me that this game was different from other ones I had played up to that point. It was a game where you see the game through the eyes of the protagonist, sort of like Hover, but in this case you had guns and shot at aliens.

This game was Chex Quest. The first First-Person-Shooter I would play. It was basically a kid-safe version of the FPS Doom. I was only allowed to play this game because you never kill anyone in the game – instead, when you shoot the aliens, they get “teleported” back to their own dimension. Chex Quest was awesome. I played it over and over, and even got to the point where I could vividly see the game whenever I closed my eyes. I made the mistake of mentioning this to my mother, who grounded me from the game for a brief period. One thing was certain, though – I loved video games. If not before Chex Quest (doubtable), I definitely did afterwards. This intensified when I got my own computer in Jr. High. It was an old Packard Bell Windows ’95 machine that used to be my grandmothers. I wore that beast out playing games like Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six, Seven Kingdoms 2, and Age of Empires (my first RTS).

Most of my gaming was done on the PC. During this time I never had a console, but my friends did. I got a decent dose of the NES, SNES, various Atari and SEGA Systems, and eventually the N64 and Playstation. A friend introduced me to emulators, and I began playing through all of the classic NES and SNES games like Mario and Final Fantasy. Final Fantasy and Chrono Trigger gave me a huge respect and love for role playing games; I loved the stories. I had always been an avid reader (still am), and playing games with deep story lines that would take hours to complete just seemed like a natural progression.

In high school, I fell in love with games like Medal of Honor and Call of Duty, but still found myself constantly going back to classics like Age of Empires, Mario, and Final Fantasy. When I turned seventeen, I bought my first M-Rated game: Hidden and Dangerous 2. Hidden and Dangerous 2 was a first or third person squad-based WW2 shooter. The game was slightly old at the time, but I still think it is a great game. I played a TON of first person shooters, but I still played a lot of roleplaying games as well.

When I graduated high school and got a laptop for college, I got a gaming laptop from Sony. I immediately installed Fable and Warhammer 40k: Dawn of War. Dawn of War was my first truly 3D real time strategy. Fable was a crazy awesome roleplaying game, which I played through multiple times; I have also now played Fable 2 and Fable 3 and have enjoyed all of them.

When I left for college, I was a gamer. I had under my belt somewhere over 100 first person shooters, and I don’t even know how many roleplaying games or other genres.

I loved video games. I was a gamer. Hardcore. Not what most people consider a gamer these days, playing a couple hours a week to relax or kill time on Facebook or other social media sites, or on an iPhone during the 15 minute ride to school or work. I was willing to shell out 60 dollars cash regularly for a game, and then spend hours playing it. I didn’t sleep much in high school. I was doing school, working, reading, spending time with my family, and playing video games. Lots of video games.

Now, five years after graduating high school, things have changed a lot.

But first, lets take a quick jump back to junior high again. I loved games and computers. But more than just loving games, I liked making them. Creating stories or ideas, and creating a game from them. I had already started programming in C and qBasic, and the idea of creating games was fuel for the flames. I wrote several text-based adventure games, teaching myself new programming skills along the way. Eventually, I bought Game Maker back at version 4, and started designing games for Windows. Most of the games were side-scrolling platformers  or top-down shooters. I even ventured into raycasting and Doom-like first person shooters. This continued through high school and into college where I minored in computer programming.

In college, life got busy. Schoolwork had to take priority, at least that’s what everyone was telling me, and between homework, work and programming, gaming slowly started to take a back burner. I did make several like-minded friends, however, who also had a love for video games and programming and stories. Freshman year we began working on a paintball game using the Quake 3 engine. This eventually fell through, but we didn’t quit working on games. Sophomore year we started making 2D games for Windows and the Xbox360, as well as doing some heavy modding for Counter-Strike. By the end of junior year, grades were tight and funds were tighter, and all the while designing and creating video games steadily took priority.

After junior year, my best friend, Zak, and I left school and moved 600 miles from our homes in Ohio to Greenville, South Carolina. Our goal: work whatever jobs necessary to pay the bills, and start our own video game studio. Two years and lots of hard work and prayer later, and our company, Demergo Studios, is off the ground (barely) and we will soon be releasing our first game.

This has taken a lot of time. And over time people change.

I am not the gamer I used to be.

I no longer dedicate hours of my week to playing video games. I no longer spend 60 dollars on games like a kid does in a candy shop when his grandpa is paying. Now, it takes me a lot longer to play through games, and I don’t have the funds to buy games like I used to. With less time and funds, I buy and play a lot fewer games than I once did. My time is taken up by working (to pay bills) and working (to create video games). Now, I have to prioritize my game playing and set aside time to play games, or it doesn’t happen at all.

I still love video games. But now I have to dedicate my time to designing them instead of playing them. I still haven’t gotten through Final Fantasy 13, and half of the games I own for my PC through Steam I have only played a few hours (or even minutes) of.

I still love video games. I believe that video games are one of the most amazing (and largely un-tapped) means of story telling and entertainment.

I still love video games, but I cannot play them as much as I want to.

I still love video games.

I am not the gamer I used to be.

Hello, my name is Dan, and I play video games. I am not the gamer I used to be, but I am still a gamer.

I redid my trees (still not great but definitely an improvement). I also created a mountain brush and began filling in the mountains that separate the peninsula from the rest of the world. Progress is slow but I’m enjoying myself (which is the primary reason I’m doing this in the first place). I’m hoping to work on a little bit of coloring next.

Sevaryd screamed in pain, but with Teyvyn’s help regained his footing and momentum. He was bleeding, he could feel the warm stickiness of his own blood as it poured from multiple wounds, the worst of which was in his leg.

He could hear screaming coming from all around, as people – his people – were all trying to escape the attack.

Sevaryd clenched his jaw, shook off the dizziness that was starting to cloud his vision, dancing around the edges of his eyes, and continued to run farther and farther into the Black Wood.

“We have to keep moving!” Teyvyn gasped out between breaths.

Sevaryd could tell Teyvyn was growing weary under the extra weight of carrying him.

“Tey,” Sevaryd said, “you need to leave me and go it alone.”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Sev,” Teyvyn shot back, the very thought seeming to renew his spirit, if but for a moment.

“Teyvyn! I am spent! I’ve lost too much blood, and I can barely even move my leg…”

“I couldn’t save anyone, Sev.”

Sevaryd could see the determination in his friend’s eye. He knew Teyvyn wasn’t going to save himself at the loss of another friend. They had grown up together, raised by an old hermit of a man who was only a part of the fyold because he was tougher than he looked and no one could throw him out. By the time the old man had passed on, they were both in their mid-daygh and were not (by fyold law) allowed to be thrown out. They had joked with each other that the old man had waited for the very day of their turning to die just to spite Jelg-Hyath. Of course, once their mid-daygh was over, they would immediately be attacked, and if they couldn’t fend for themselves then they would be thrown out; but that was still a few summers away, and they were already making plans to leave the fyold when a good chance appeared.

“I couldn’t save anyone,” Teyvyn said again.

Sevaryd knew Teyvyn always wanted to help everyone, even though he personally did not think they owed anyone in the fyold anything. Teyvyn had always been that way, a strong and willing set of shoulders ready to lift anyone’s burden.And now, that burden was himself.

A crash of a fallen log being broken as it was hurriedly stepped on not too far behind brought Sevaryd’s mind reeling back to their present plight: escape. But they weren’t running from the fyold; the fyold was burning less than a mike away at the edge of the Black Wood. No, they were running from something much worse, more vile, and scarier than what he had imagined as a small boy, sitting around a fire with Teyvyn as the old man told them dark stories of the evil that haunted the Black Wood, the Whe’ga’dohl.

Teyvyn’s shin suddenly struck a low branch from a black tree, and the two of them crashed to the mossy earth. Teyvyn cried out in frustration more than pain, but was already starting to get to his feet, still holding Sevaryd’s arm. Sevaryd on the other hand was already too weak to make much of a sound and lay in a clouded stupor on the ground.

“Come on, Sev,” Teyvyn said as he pulled Sevaryd back up, “I’m not going to carry you!”

Sevaryd gurgled out a mixture of blood and sounds, attempting to say “You practically are”, but Teyvyn didn’t hear him or didn’t care, because onward he lurched again without reply, half dragging half carrying Sevaryd with him.

As they continued on, the sounds of screaming grew fainter as they entered deeper and deeper into the Black Wood. The muffled silence of the wood was only broken by the sound of their rushed advance and the pursuing Whe’ga’dohl behind them.

As Sevaryd slipped between varying degrees of consciousness the sights of the dark woods around him mixed with darker images of the fyold in flames and people running between the cart-houses and tents. Their screams played a terrible dissonant melody in his ears, as the Whe’ga’dohl crashed through the outer circle, hewing down every man, woman, and child in their path. The sight of a particular larger-looking Whe’ga’dohl cleaving a warrior in two who had been standing right in front of him; the hot spray of blood had hit him, the shock causing him to lose his footing and trip. As he scrambled to regain his feet the Whe’ga’dohl came after him and he barely managed to jump out of the way as the dark rusted blade sheared through the air where he had just been standing. As Sevaryd turned and ran, the Whe’ga’dohl gave chase through the fyold, only stopping to hew down people who got in the way.

Adrenaline caused by a jarring pain cleared his eyes, and Sevaryd could see that they had fallen again. Teyvyn was gasping for breath, and Sevaryd could tell that he was out of strength. He could also still hear the Whe’ga’dohl crashing through the trees, getting very close.

“Tey,” Sevaryd managed to say, “remember when the old man would tell us about the Black Wood and the Whe’ga’dohl?”

“Yeah, Sev,” Teyvyn replied with a sly grin that Sevaryd remembered got them into a lot of trouble as boys, “those were great stories.”

As the darkness started to overtake Sevaryd and his eyes slowly began to close again, he sighed, “Don’t seem so much like stories now…”

“No,” said Tevyn looking one last time at his unconcious friend, “they really don’t.”

As Teyvyn passed out, dreams overtook Sevaryd, dark dreams of stories of old times and older things; stories the old man had told him and Teyvyn as boys in order to scare them; stories of the Black Wood, the Whe’ga’dohl, and the Krah’Ved. And as the two boys’ sleep freed them from the harsh world around them, more screams from the Whe’ga’dohl echoed through the night. Screams that went silent as a high-pitched, echoing sound – unlike any sound heard or remembered by any man alive – split through the Black Wood, as if silencing the very world itself.

Yeah, yeah. Don’t laugh. I am not an artist. Overall though I think I’m getting the hang of things. I’ll keep posting updates each day that I get work done. If the map turns out well, I might even make an interactive version that will show where parts of the story take place. Maybe.

Violence breaks through last defenses,
Caring not whose blood it spills.
It burns the town , its homes, its fences,
Destroying bridges, farms, and mills.

It haunts the mighty, the poor, and weak,
Caring not whose life it takes.
It silences the sword, the quill and ink,
Leaving suffering in its wake.

In shrill terror voices cried,
But the cries it never heeds.
The town was burned, its people died,
And Death walks on with greater speed.

~Teller Vis

“Is that really all you can tell me? Did you miss something or make a mistake?” the girl
spat, her mouth hidden in the shadow of her hood in false safety.

“Do not be indignant with me, child!” the crone shot back without hesitation, “If you
wanted honey and lies you could have gone to the tellers of the Keepers in all openness
instead of slinking your way here to me in the dead of night.”

The girl sat forward in her chair, hands gripping the arms firmly ad if the chair would run
away from under her.

“Do not call me a child!” she said, vehemence on every word though her voice was but a
whisper. The old crone just laughed.

“Child, dear child, when you have seen more men delivered to Haeigis’ Keep than you’ve
seen delivered into this world, everyone looks like a child. Now, do you want to hear it
out again – without interruptions, mind you?”

The girl slowly sighed as if releasing a heavy burden, and sat back in her chair.

“Good,” said the crone, “let me begin again.”

The old crone took up several small bones from the table before her, and after some time
of kneading them between her fingers, she slammed them down again. She slowly looked
over the bones, and at long last said,

“It is the same as before. Change is coming to Anvaris, and the whole of it shall be
rendered in two. Wars, famines and disease shall accompany it. Be aware of the iron
raven’s eyes. This is all I see.”

“But what do we do? How do we avert the change? How do we save Anvaris?” the girl
softly asked, her very frame shaken and pleading.

“You cannot stop change,” the old crone said, “you can only face it. There is no we but
many who must each do their role.”

“But what is my role?” the girl asked, “What must I do? Beware some eyes and hope for
the best?”

“Hope is something you will wish to have before this is over. Be aware of the iron raven’s
eyes: that is what you must do. Nothing else is commanded of you.”

“But what do I do about the change? How do I prepare?”

The old crone leaned forward and spoke in a harsh tone, “This always comes in two parts;
first, a warning of the future, and second, something you must do. These two things do
not even have to relate to each other. I have told you, with my sight and with my wisdom,
all that I can.”

After a long silence, the girl offered a quiet ‘thanks to Haeisys’, stood, and exited back out
into the night.

The old crone sat back in her chair, muttering lines of an old rhetoric.

“Kings are fools, and Queens naive,
Heroes are made and not conceived.”

The old crone rolled her bones again, and stared at them, continuing her muttering to
herself,

“Kings are fools, and Queens naive,
Heroes are made and not conceived…”

Her cracked and wrinkled face cracked wider with a smile both haunting and wise.

“Heroes are made… not conceived… or are they?”

Anyway, we’ll see how this goes! I’ll be posting the prologue soon!

So the man set out
With all his might
To prove to the mount
That he was right

Said the man to the mountain
“Listen, here!”
But the mountain to the man
Gave no ear

So the man swore oath
With all his breath
To humble the  bluff
Else quit in death

Said the man to mountain
“Vagabond!”
But the mountain to the man
Did not respond

So the man yelled loud
“Lazy, languorous oaf!
“River and plain,
“I beat them both!”

Said the man to the mountain
“I’ll beat you too”
But the mountain with the man
Did not share views

So the man drew close
And swung his arm
Though the mountain still
Showed no alarm

Said the man to the mountain
“My wrist is bent!”
But the mountain to the man
Still was silent

So the man went away
His wrist all broken
And the mountain to this day
Hasn’t spoken.

Am I alive, Or am I just breathing?
Because I don’t like, What my eyes are seeing.
That what was once ‘we’
Is now only me
Left here alone,
And I don’t know how
I’ll survive now
That you’re gone.

As I say my last goodbye,
And the tears fall from my eyes,
I still can hardly see…
you meant everything to me.

Am I awake, Or am I just dreaming?
Because I can’t take, All of these feelings,
As I search my mind,
The memories I find
Are only of you.
And I do not know
Where I should go
Or what to do.

As I say my last goodbye,
And the tears fall from my eyes,
I still can hardly see…
you meant everything to me.