Category Dev History

<poem> In the beginning, there was the War and the War hovered over the void in a nameless form.

Over the void drifted the spirit of Alex Alex said "The War is in our galaxy" and it was so.

Alex said "The War is between only Humans, no other species shall be mentioned from herewithonwardsforth" and it was so.

Alex said "I will define the Universe, so that other spirits may join with me and create" and it was so.

And other spirits came, and the first of these was Sargoth.

And Sargoth spake great Racisms unto Alex, and Alex beheld, and saw that it was tolerable but Sargoth, altho true of Heart and Racism, was not productive of the Arts.

So Alex brought other spirits to the void The spirits were Skyway Daemoria Oblivion Strangelet Norsehound Bellerophon Ikarus

And many others whose names live only in myth.

And from the fabric of the Word of Alex, did the spirits weave and bind, pushing at pixels and pulling at polygons and there came to be form in the void, and that form was given a name.

The Homeworld Naval Combat Operations Mod Alex, and his fellow spirits looked upon it, and saw that it was good.

They bestowed their creation upon the public of the Homeworld Community, who also looked and saw that it was good.

Though not as good as Alex and his spirits thought it was.

Together the creationists dawdled over their beloved creation, adding content and fixing bugs, until one day, one of their fellowship looked at the Mod and saw that altho it was good, it was not good enough.

And so it came to pass that Strangelet, of all those who created for Alex, raised his voice in dischord saying "verily, we hath created awesome. but might not the awesome be compounded one thousand fold if the player could actually run around inside ships?"

And so the seed of destiny was sown amongst those who created. Each of Alex's beloved spirits put forth his own contribution on how this increase of awesome might be achieved.

Daemoria, Djinn of the Intuos, drew wonderous shapes and forms. Oblivion, Master of Max, arranged confabulous assemblies of prodigious polygony. SkyWay, aesthete of the linear and the curvature, drew his beziers and filled them with subtle bevel.

The other spirits brought forth offerings of their own, just as mighty and wondrous, except for Bellerophon. Bellerophon was a belligerent spirit, and offered nothing but contradiction and distain for the offerings of others.

His weapons were code and design, altho none had ever seen them used. Spake he "I will build us a great engine, the like of which hath not been seen upon the face of the universe." "It will have Dynamic Damage, and trees that grow in realtime."

The spirits of creation were young then, and innocent, and believed they all the words of Bellerophon as he spake in majesty.

Aeons passed.

After the passing of Aeons, the spirits grew restive and inquisitive as to the progress of the greatest of engines, and began they to speak with increasing sternness unto Bellerophon, saying "Hath ye not promised us dynamic damage?" "What shall we call it" "We should have classes like CS" and other diverse comments.

And so it came to pass that Bellerophon, who had not progressed upon the engine in the smallest part, grew wroth with the spirits and declared "Ye are a bunch of cuntes, I am leaving"

And great was the lamentation and the rending of Sargoth's clothes.

For it was upon this day that we learned that if a thing is to come to pass, it should be by thy hands alone.

More Aeons passed, and in parts there was great alarum and terrible awe at the coming of the great Make Something Unreal contest. The spirits of creation, who were idle and disconsolate, viewed this spectacle with great interest, taking up the tools of the Unreal Engine and becoming learned in their ways.

Strangelet the Derailer (as he had become known) chose once more to spake in disharmony, saying "might not we pursue our dream of awesome upon this platform which is so evidently built from pure win?"

And there was a great mumbling and grumbling amongst the company of creators, for none of them knew the first thing about the Unreal Engine. And so the discontent was settled, the issue remained unpressed, and the dream of awesome was once more dormant.

More Aeons passed and a new dawn spread rosy fingered light over the now swollen company of creators. New spirits had gathered, lured by the bright lights of render art. This age brought us Nistrum PeteMilligan SonOfMan LegionDD and many others,

Including one spirit touched by madness and vodka, and his name was called TreeForm

TreeForm was not an ordinary creative spirit. He had the power of universes in his fingertips, and had already created an engine such as the creators sought. And he had called it... "Galaxis"? I forget. Alex and Strangelet parlayed with TreeForm for many moons, seeking dominion of his power and product.

Eventually an accord was reached. TreeForm would join the creators and bestow his gift of Engine upon them in return for the much-sought after Art and there was a great rejoicing and spilling of Sargoth's beer.

The creatives toiled again, happy in their labours after so long with no purpose, constructing their fleets and units anew to properly fit the new Engine that was the gift of TreeForm until it came to pass that with great majesty and lensflares, AFF: The Second Antarean War went into beta.

Again we bestowed our product onto the public, forming our own constellation of players in the void. And the players played, and the explosions exploded, and that was the end of the second age.

Aeons, as they have by now been shown to do, passed.

As time drew on, the public and the spirits of creation grew tired of their new toy, and although it had pleased them mightily, it proved problematic to bugfix. Thus, TreeForm declared that the age should be closed, the beta ended and the project once more returned to research and development.

But Alex and his collection of creatuers were dissatisfied in their souls. The snake-words of Strangelet had set their hearts afire with temptation, and they knew of that which was reasonably possible with current gen tech.

And so it came to pass that Strangelet said "fuck it" Petitioned he from Alex the blessing to start a new project within the void, and it was called Planetstorm.

Thus began the third age.

The creators toiled as never before, filled with wonder at the capability and complexity of their new tools. Many amongst them asked at first "Why do we not use The Source Engine? It hath better graphics and is not as buggy."

But Alex and Strangelet said "nay, it will come to pass that the third engine of unreal will rule in these lands. great will be our glory if we choose this path"

And as their third product grew in beauty and stature, yet more spirits drifted in from the darkness outside, and these were called Jetfire Sarcen Farseer Xyx and many, many more.

Combined, the powers of the newly allied creators were unbeatable. Ikarus, spirit of the second age, wrought sleek iron birds which flashed across the stars. Sarcen created life from nothing with the power of words and expressions. Oblivion, spirit of the first age, erected mighty structures of filligree and steel, framing the battles in the hearts of the creators. Jetfire brought order, every piece within its allotted place. Xyx brought planning, sage wisdom defeating future enemies. Farseer brought the colour purple, and rainbow unicorns.

All the other creators performed their arts in a whirlwind of incandescent effort, and the void once more filled with form and the form filled with color, and the color filled with textures, and the textures were masked with bumps.

And it came to pass that the Make Something Unreal contest was again upon the horizon. And so redoubled they their efforts, until the Planetstorm was as beautiful as a lovely cow, as fast as a small horse, and as cool as a skink.

With such a fine weapon as the product they had created, the contest was no match for Alex and his spirits, (almost) all opposition crumbled before them and on the day of judgement stood they upon the podium, in the third of places.

And there was much rejoicing and using-up of Legion's lipstick Once more the public hummed to the sound of being shot in the face aboard starships, and there were many servers. Verily, even the French played it.

And thus was the end of the third age.

But in the darkest recesses of their hearts, the creators knew that this was not as awesome as their product could get. But they cast about saying "But we shall never be able to afford an unreal engine license" and prepared they to submit to the will of Satan Publishers.

But in the distance a clarion call was heard. And from the Mountain of Epic, Tim Sweeney stepped down fire in his beard, and lightning in his biceps "This is thy UDK that we have given to you" he spake "Use it for good or for awesome, we careth not"

And once again there was much rejoicing and swinging from Sargoth's beard. Forearmed with Aeons' worth of powers over the Engine of Unreal, the creators foresaw that they could at last make the awesome they had dreamed of from the beginning of time. And so rolled they up their sleeves, and held they onto their butts, and began development

And that was the start of the fourth age, and the story of how all of us came to become. We tell this story that it may be remembered, but every day we must continue to write it. So that others may tell of the next ages, when we are but dust.

At the start of the fourth age the latest spirit saw the awesome of creation and the Suda of Zima joined, young was he but with a mind full of fire taken from the gods.

There was a great dissonance between the spirits about the nature of awesomeness however. A great clash of titans between the spirit of Strangelet and the spirit of ancient wisdom, only after fierce battles had fate decided to cast out the latter. Distraught Sarcen had enough and said upon himself: "cast him out so he may never ever return" and it was so

Freed from these heavy burdens the remainder of the spirits took it upon themselves to give all. It was a time of great progress and innovation After time the first artificial people were breathed into life, an old wish of the creators

Now with the end in sight, the once void has taken on shapes unimaginable by the first spirits. For the wheels of industry are turning in our favor. </poem>