In this first part of a walkthrough for the game Aura: Fate of the Ages, we meet the unlikely named Umang as he is sent to the valley of Ademik (or possibly Ademika; no one seems quite sure) to continue his lessons from the slightly less unlikely named Grifit. Grifit turns out to be missing, so Umang must decipher the use of a bunch of strange machines in order to find the way out because someone forgot to tell him about the back door. Along the way he gets to complain about numerous OSHA safety violations, wonder why overly elaborate machines are better than simple combination locks and wish that he had a can of WD-40 along with him. And that’s before he finds out about the rebellion.
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Let’s Play! – Aura: Fate of the Ages – Part 1
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Night Beach
I stood on the beach for a while, looking out over the sea. It was night and the sky was partially overcast, the undersides of the clouds illuminated by the light of the city behind me and blurring out all but the brightest of the stars. They were more visible near the horizon, beyond the long rolling of the waves. There seemed to be no one beyond me on the beach so I watched in silence for a while then turned and climbed up the wooden steps to the boardwalk. I had only taken a few steps along it when a nearby door burst open and a laughing trio emerged, two men and a woman. One of them staggered almost into me and I put out a hand to steady him. I don’t think he noticed, but his companion mumbled an apology in my direction then the three of them set off along the boardwalk. I glanced into the noisy bar they had just vacated but let the door swing shut. I was looking for a quieter evening. I continued on to the main street and stopped on the sidewalk. Crowds of people walked past me; groups of individuals, couples and families walked along the road past brightly lit shops, restaurants and entertainments. Children ran from a nearby arcade and a couple stopped to buy candied treats from a vendor’s window. I briefly looked at a brightly colored jacket displayed in a window before making my way down the street.
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Fallen London – Walking the Polythreme Streets
After being away for about six months I have returned to Fallen London. Actually, I can’t say I’m in Fallen London. I’ve taken my Zee Clipper across the Underzee and have made my way to the city of Polythreme, the home of the Clay Men. I’ve been wandering the streets here while trying to make sense of the strange place in which I find myself. A place almost as strange as Fallen London has become. As you may have noticed I played quite a bit of Echo Bazaar (as they called it at the time) last year. I managed to hit the level cap in most of my attributes and had managed to complete most of the storylines. There were a few outstanding, but breeding a beast in the Labyrinth of Tigers or getting further involved in the machinations of Mahogany Hall didn’t interest me that much and the storylines I was still interested in seemed to have stalled. So I left the game for a while, waiting for it to advance. Then a couple of weeks ago I saw in passing that things had been updated and so logged back in to see what was up. And things had changed, but some of them in ways to make clear that you can’t always go home again. The game is now called Fallen London instead of Echo Bazaar. The developer’s explanation is that everyone called it Fallen London anyway, but I find it a less interesting name. Hearing someone talk
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Shalalm Baskur
Shalalm Baskur, my friends. Shalalm Baskur.
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The More Things (Don’t) Change…
I had finished Skyrim for the third time and was trying to figure out what to do next. I thought about loading up a bunch of mods and starting a fourth playthrough, maybe taking the Nords side in the Civil War this time, then I thought maybe I would play through Morrowind and Oblivion again first. And that made me start thinking about how much things have or haven’t changed from those games. Now I’m not talking about the game systems themselves. Obviously the graphics are better, the gameplay has been streamlined and the user interface is improved. I’m talking about the game world itself. In Skyrim it has been over 200 years since Martin Septim sacrificed himself at the end of Oblivion but things in Tamriel are remarkably the same. Yes, parts of the Empire have fallen away. Yes, there was a war with the Aldmeri Dominion and the Altmer are now the enemies of the Cyrodillic Empire. But, overall, the world is pretty much the same as it was. You would have thought that something would have changed beyond a few broad strokes of politics, but that seems to be all there is. As someone living in the early 21st century we are used to the relentless advance of progress. Science, technology, society… all these things have improved or otherwise changed even in our lifetimes. The idea of complete stagnation, which seems to be what is happening in Tamriel, seems out-of-place. True, there have been periods of stagnation
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Stories and Worlds
So I finished Mass Effect 3 last week and I immediately went back to playing Skyrim again. I think it is telling that I am done with Mass Effect after what Raptr tells me is around 35 hours (for now anyway) while I am still engrossed by Skyrim even though I am closing in on 200. I think the difference is that Mass Effect told me a story while Skyrim invited me to come live in its world. There was a moment in my first playthrough of Skyrim when I was scrolling through my quest log trying to decide what to do next when I noticed a quest called “Diplomatic Immunity”. I read the description and had to struggle to remember who gave it to me and what it was about before finally remembering “Oh yeah, that’s the main quest!” Skyrim gives you so many things to do and so many opportunities to do them that it seems as if the various storylines have minimal importance. Don’t follow-up on a murder in the streets in Markarth and you will never find out about the secret of Cibala Mine and the history of the Forsworn. Don’t bother investigating a rumor you hear about a child performing the Dark Sacrament and you will never even get involved with the Dark Brotherhood. The world is out there for you to explore and it is up to you to do so. Want to spend all your time clearing out tombs and hunting for Nirnroot
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The Ship
I had come to the Port on the Ship. I had stood with my fellow passengers upon her bow, rising high and white above the water as we entered the harbor; then at mid-day I, like the other passengers, wasted no time in descending the broad gangways where we were met by the welcoming locals who greeted us by placing garlands of flowers on our heads and toasting us with spiced drinks of local creation. For hours I had wandered the streets of that magnificent port. Once it had been the vanguard of a mighty empire now long forgotten but today it was a place of exotic beauty, a place where all the ships of the world came to trade and to mingle and to exchange stories of the myriad sights they had seen and the many novelties they had encountered so that all the world would know the secrets beyond their own horizon. I became enraptured of the Port. All day I had explored its myriad winding streets, engrossed by the aromas of exotic spices, the tastes of unknown languages, the colors of foods I had never seen and the touch and taste of alien but strangely beautiful woman. So when it was time for us to return to the Ship for the evening I remained behind in the port, for the Ship was not due to depart until long after the next sunrise and thus I knew that I would have time to continue to sample the novel
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Patterns
I awaken on the floor, cold linoleum against my flesh, surrounded by the smudged ink marks that mark my latest attempts at understanding. For a long time I lie there, patterns running through my mind, until the needs of my body are able to intrude upon the ever closer to perfect arrangements I am making. I am hungry, and the physical needs exceeds the mental. I regret losing the pattern I have created but I let it fade back into my mind and stand up. I stumble to the kitchen but am unable to find the nourishment I need. Empty packages and unwashed eating implements are scattered about, their surfaces mottled with the odd, semi-random patterns of mold and decay. I ignore them; I have examined their patterns long ago and find them lacking. I briefly consider the trails of the ants streaming across the counter, watching as they morph and wander in predictable but still random motion but they too I have previously considered and found unable to produce the true patterning I need. I realize that I must leave my place of safety and venture again into the world of others. Into that realm where man has forced existence into plain, orderly patterns that inhibit the growth of true beauty. I stumble into my long-ignored bedroom in search of appropriate clothing. I ponder long over my choice in what to wear, searching for those items which will exist in the necessarily exquisite harmony with one another. Of course
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Return to the Sea
I had come down to the sea. Why I no longer remember. What I do remember is that I swam out away from the shore, far enough out that the sea stretched to the horizon and the swells blocked the shore from my sight so that I was alone in the blue-green waters. I dove beneath the surface and saw that there was the surface of another sea beneath me, waves crashing on the rocks of an underwater shoreline. I somehow perceived that this was the surface of an ancient sea from long ago and that I was above its ancient shoreline. I was swimming through the air above that ancient sea and this air was different from the air above me. It was newer air, air that had not been breathed by countless generations of creatures and so still retained all of its vitality. Though I was beneath my own sea I could breath the air of this ancient time and so swam out to explore this ancient sea. For a long time I swam along this shoreline, watching the waves break against the rocks of a strangely barren land. Then, I reached a point where I could see objects far out to sea and I, desiring a change from the endless rocks, breaking waves and empty beach, swam towards them to see what they were. I discovered the towers of a city, rising from the ancient sea which broke with increasing ferocity about them. The towers were of
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Dreams of the Dreamer’s Dreams
I donned my dream suit and lay in my bed and was deep within my dream. In the dream I was in a world of shafts and corridors, doors and windows. As I climbed and walked and slid between them I passed others. They smiled and nodded as I passed but I did not stop them on their journies nor did they stop me in mine. Soon I came to the door I was seeking. The guard outside hesitated then smiled and stepped aside, proceeding on his way. I entered to find my bed wtih myself lying in it. But the bed was wide so I lay beside myself. I slept into another world, this one of warm inviting waters and islands covered with cool, dim forests. There were others here too, but I did not ignore them nor did they ignore me. We talked and laughed and traveled together, lying on the warm sand or swimming in the cool oceans. But inevitably after the long days I became tired again. One of my companions and I slipped into the forest where we found the small, guarded hut. Its guardian smiled in recognition of me and stepped aside, allowing us to enter the room with the wide bed. There were suits there for both of us and we donned them then lay together in the bed. We slept into a world of magnificent mountains and abysmal valleys. For days we explored this world together, climbing to the peaks of the
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