MY WORK ON CROWFALL
Initially, my goal while working on Crowfall was to become a narrative designer. But gradually, I developed an interest in the creation of the game's worlds and designing scripted experiences for the player. This interest helped me progress from a part-time intern to a full-time designer. My primary responsibilities included designing the New Player Experience, using our procedural generation tools to create new maps, and contributing to essential worldbuilding features.
THE NEW PLAYER EXPERIENCE
Crowfall is a difficult game to explain to new players, as it strays away from the usual MMO archetype. It focuses on PvP and player freedom, creating an interesting dilemma. You can't hold the player's hand too much, as a core pillar of the game is player freedom. Yet, you need to prepare the player enough for PvP, so they don't get defeated and quit. This proved to be quite the challenge, but it gave me the opportunity to learn a lot in a short amount of time. For a year, I gradually added more content and tutorials to the experience. Then, in early 2021, I was given the chance to work with a strike-team on reworking it. This new version allowed for me to use the skills I'd learned over the past year to create something truly special. I was given the responsibility of level design, and below are images of the maps I made and some special environments I'm especially proud of creating.
WRITING
While interning at Crowfall, I primarily focused on writing lore. One my major projects was the final draft of a short story about the Enbarri an enemy race that split from the Centurs and established their own culture in the mountains of Pelion. Despite the Centaurs' invitation to rejoin the Legion, the Enbarri refused, leading to an inevitable clash. The story can be found below.
ENBARRI LORE
Doirin looked upon the remains of his cavalry, worry etching deep lines into his face. They were breathing hard, their coats and skin lathered with sweat. In these brief calm moments, as the reality of their situation settled in, a couple in the back broke down into shuddering sobs. One threw up what little food she'd managed to keep down.
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This was a battle they could not win.
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Doirin turned to look behind him where the force from the Legion was bearing down on their tattered contingent. His jaw clenched. He knew the Legion’s armaments could never rival the quality of Enbarri craftsmanship but, through sheer numbers alone, the Legion would surely crush them. They were still several hours’ ride from the relative safety of the slopes of Mount Baltsobus, and all hope of losing the Legion in those winding passes waned.
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Doirin was pulled from his thoughts by something—or, more specifically, someone—tugging at the loose end of the cloth wrapped across his chest. He looked down to see an Enbarri colt with a fistful of Doirin’s plaid, trying to get his attention.
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“What will happen to us?” the boy said, his face already smeared with dirt and tears. Doirin didn’t know, and if he did, he certainly didn’t want to say. But he knew in that moment he had to say something. He gave the boy a reassuring smile, though he couldn’t keep the sadness from his eyes, before turning back to his regiment.
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“Friends, family,” Doirin shouted, raising his spear over his head. “Heed my call!” The remaining Enbarri in the unit all turned to face his thundering voice. “I can see the weariness in your eyes. I can see the fear. The Legion stands upon our doorstep 20,000 strong. The Gleaming Gate Pass is just beyond our fingertips. The lure to bend the knee is greater now than it has ever been.
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"But hear my words: to surrender here is to plunge the history of our people into the fire. They will shackle us with the chains of assimilation and wipe from our progeny the stories of our people. To further our retreat is to be run down by the hooves of the Legion. To stand and fight is to die, and to hold them off just a moment longer. By our lives, the fledglings among us may find safe passage.” He looked to the group of Enbarri foals near the back of the unit, their tails twitching against the restrained instinct to flee. A rallying cry rose up among the warriors. “It is through them our story will be told. If we die today, we will have died for our heritage, our honor, and our culture. We will have died carrying the voice of every Enbarri who scraped out survival in the hills. Seek strength from Valkyn, who named us the mightiest race of all. Seek courage from Maeve, who believes we are the greatest of Her warriors. And above all, make sure they remember the Enbarri!”
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He whirled on his haunches then and charged forward, hurling the spear with all his might. It flew through the air and embedded with a thunk into the chest of a leading Legionnaire. Chaos erupted. The Enbarri unit bellowed a war cry, the cacophony doubled by the shaking of weapons and banging of shields. They exploded into movement behind Doirin, and swept against the wave of the Legion while their children fled desperately through The Gleaming Gate. The discord of battle rang across the steppe, and above a crow soared, eagerly awaiting its next meal.
