Solo-built MMORPG · In development
The mountain opened. It was never a mountain.
The world
You hold a mountain. Your line has always held it: the grey slope above the treeline, the shrine cut into its flank, the old god sleeping in the rock that your grandmother fed.
It is not a mountain. Nobody alive knows that.
Six centuries after the world went quiet, what is left of Earth belongs to three peoples who cannot read a word of it. They pray to machines because there is no better word for them.
The three peoples
They go down. Into the flooded lowlands, the drowned coasts, and the vaults that drown everyone else who tries.
They read the dark by sound. Their warrens run vertical, through cliff and sinkhole, and their keepers carry history as riddle and hymn.
They hold the high forests, and have held them a long time — by being harder to remove than the trees.
Something came down
Now the sealed doors are opening. And something has come down through the sky that is clean, and precise, and has never once warmed at sunset the way this world does.
The long fire
Development logs, early art, and world-building — and a place to argue about which of the three peoples is correct. Follow along, and help shape it while it’s still being built.
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