Progress updateFirst off let’s welcome our new programmer Jonas!
As of this week we have a new programmer working here at the office, throw him a welcome in the welcome thread.
During the last week art has spent a lot of time using the brand new loot system to add a ton of new random and hidden crates, chest, urns etc to find all over Sarducaa and Myrland. Work has been put into building the jungle and this final part of Sarducaa is now really starting to take shape, you can see some of it among the screenshots this week.
On the programmer side we are starting to see UI fixes coming in from the new dedicated UI guy and we hope that we can solve most of the UI issues before the patch.
Apart from that most of the time right now for the programmers is spent fixing new bugs from the test server reported by the QA but also old things that have been floating around in the bug tracker.
The cover art for today (click it for a larger version) depicts a man of great importance for the entire continent of Sarducaa.
You can read all about the great Ibn Kazar in this week’s massive lore section!
Ibn KazarNot more than five generations ago the desert was a disarray of nomadic tribes and small settlements. Warlords had roamed the land longer than anyone could remember. With bands of mounted thieves and murderers they tried to gain control of the Krrft trade through ruthless violence and terror. And terror begat terror as the vendettas spiraled into a vortex of blood and punishment. The tribes drifted further and further apart and became more isolated. Fear, hate and suspicion were passed on to the children and the children’s children. The sound of thumping hooves still makes Sarducaans uneasy to this day.
In the middle of it all was Zanthenes, the one city the raiding bands avoided. Since ancient times the city was ruled by Labbah Madar – Mother of the Flame – who governed this isolated sanctuary which was protected by huge walls and the strange magis in the nearby oasis of Yesil. This alliance seemed to have little or no intention of peacemaking, gathering tribes or ruling the lands outside of the small region – which probably would have been impossible anyway, should they have tried. The war of Krrft brought the prices down and the treasure chests slowly grew with the trade, however at the same time a high price had to be paid in blood and money by the caravans to and from the city.
When times seemed most dire there was a humble man in the north desert. Born a bastard child of a raped mother, he was orphaned at the young age of seven by raiding thieves led by the warlord Luz the Hideous. A saddle maker found him homeless in dirty rags and begging in the village and took him on as an apprentice of his trade. The saddler raised him as his own and taught him all that a man should know, but for one thing, hate. The saddler was a pure pacifist and a believer. He saw it as his mission to end the vengeance blood thirst in the younger generations, and his young apprentice followed the peaceful code as he grew up to become a master of the craft himself and saw his teacher die of old age.
He was a quiet and gentle man with the burly physique of a stone-cutter. Whenever the raiders came to his settlement he would shy away and stay out of trouble. He did what he was supposed to and spent the nights smoking the Krrft and praying to the gods. Then one day he found a little girl begging in the settlement. She was an orphan due to raiders just as he, and he adopted her and raised her to become a craftsman as well. There was something special about the girl he adopted her as his daughter. She made him smile and he began to greet his neighbors and sing when he tanned camel skin to leather in his shop. But his singing stopped when the raiders rode in to the settlement, one silver moon. They took all the women and bound them to their horses and rode off. No one heard from them for many days until a carriage dragged by a mule came back. The bodies were beaten and mutilated almost beyond recognition and the little girl whom the saddler loved lay on top of the pile. Her blue lifeless eyes pierced his soul as he lifted her off the carriage and carried her slowly through the settlement and out to the open desert. The tribe followed him and carried their own dead women and children. He finally stopped by the stone arch of Bos Talia and buried the girl by the eastern post.
On the back of his camel he spoke to the tribe with a sword in his hand, “I, Ibn Kazar, son of a murdered mother and father to a murdered child will not rest until I have sought repentance from these thieves, murderers and rapists. And all of you will go home and wait for the next full moon and then return to this place. You may not seek blood for blood on your own.”
The tribesmen wondered who he was to give such an order. They all wanted revenge for the raiders’ savage actions and cried for the heads of the guilty to be placed on spears. Ibn Kazar looked upon them and calmed the troubled tribe to silence.
“I am the chosen one and will be the last in this tribe to sully my soul in vengeance. If you feel your blood boil in hate and you reach for the sword in anger, I urge you to reach for your pipe instead. To forget is divine and to smoke the Akreps oil is godly.”
And so Ibn Kazar rode off to the next settlement and told them what has happened and what he intended to do. He learned that they too were mourning their women who had fallen by the hands of the raiders. With haste he rode from tribe to tribe, all over the Sarducaan desert and they were all victims of one and the same warlord, Luz the Hideous. The tribes wanted to follow Ibn Kazar and seek revenge, but he told them as he told his own tribe, to meet him under the arch of Bos Talia the following full moon and they agreed under the Krrft smoke cloud.
It was close to dusk when he rode into the raiders’ camp on his camel. The sun was setting behind the ridges of Bos Kamin. In sheer confusion the savage raiders just watched him ride all the way up to the warlord’s tent. Luz the hideous stormed out from his tent in rage and screamed for the raiders’ attention. Within seconds Ibn Kazar was surrounded by a hundred raiders with swords and spears pointed at him. He calmly stepped off his camel and gazed into Luz the Hideous eyes.
What is the meaning of this? Are you a mad man who wishes to die?” said Luz the Hideous and drew his sword.
“I have come to seek your repentance. Ask the gods for forgiveness and promise to stop your wicked ways and your life will be spared. I give you three chances to repent”, said Ibn Kazar with his empty hands in the air. “Repent!” he shouted. “You truly are mad. The Krrft oil must have rotted your mind!” laughed Luz the Hideous and the raiders joined in, pointing and laughing. Ibn Kazar steadily lowered his hands.
“Repent!” he shouted again. They stopped laughing and moved closer. The tension rose and they could feel the vibrations in the air.
“Repent!” he shouted a third time.
Luz the Hideous pointed at him a screamed, “Archer!”, and a single arrow flew through the camp and burrowed its iron in the camels head. The camel fell to the ground instantly with a thud and thick dust blew up in the air. Quicker than the akrep stinger Ibn Kazar drew his sword and swung it through the dust cutting one raider after another. With his swift feet he danced with his sword around the disoriented bunch. He slashed off a limb for every life they had on their hands. There were no raiders left standing when the dust finally settled, just hands, feet and heads spread all over the sand. Luz the hideous dropped his sword and fell to his knees crying. Begging for his life and promising that he would repent. Ibn Kazar kicked him to the ground and said that the time for repentance was too late and bound him on the back of a donkey.
It was the night of the following full moon when they arrived on the donkey to the arch of Bos Talia. All the Sarducaan tribes had gathered and stood in silence as Ibn Kazar rode up a hill. He placed Luz on the ground and told him to stretch his arms to the sky.
“This is Luz the Hideous. He is the one who has plagued us with fear and blood in the desert. His followers have already been punished, he is the only one left”, said Ibn Kazar and let his blade sever the reaching hands of Luz the hideous.
“If you have a stone in your heart, take that stone and throw it at his head so there will be peace” he said and one by one the tribesmen picked up a stone and hurled it at Luz the hideous. Soon his body was only a broken pile of flesh, blood and bone.
The march of the thousand nomads began and within days they arrived in Zanthenes. The Labbah Madar met them outside the city gates. Ibn Kazar knelt before her asked for her forgiveness.
“My queen, for too many generations have we been spilling blood in the desert, separated by hate and greed, all because of the wealth from Zanthenes pouring into the chests of warlords. This ends today if you accept my unified army of nomads as yours. Then will we be united as one single tribe under the Labbah Madars’ rule and keep peace in the desert. My requests are that the trade of Krrft is solely handled by the desert tribes and that we have the right to live our lives in peace.”
The Labbah Madar agreed and exclaimed the nation of Sarducaa to be born. The city of Zanthanes became Beth Jeddah, “Home of the mother”. She gave Ibn Kazar the title of Protector of the desert, which he kept for the remainder of his years.
The songs of the brave saddler Ibn Kazar are still sung to this day in the tents and huts of the desert.
New MobsWe are still waiting for the final sounds for the 3 monsters we have been following but we have now settled on their names.
They are known by the Sarducaan people as Lesser Charul, Am Yarasi Lurker and this last one is Dev Murah.
Here is a in engine screenshot of the Dev Murah!
ScreenshotsToday we show you a early screenshot from the jungle but also some shots from the glas furnace.
Please keep in mind that this is work in progress!