Developer Journal looks at the game's playable races
An important feature we have incorporated with The Chronicle is a diversity of playable races and avatar customization. We believe that it is a vital part of a player experience to truly feel unique and diverse in the game world, where players can be recognized by appearance rather than the text floating above their heads. Although the text floating above your head feature would be really cool in real life, we believe that players want more diversity than that in their gaming experience. Our attempt at this diversity comes through our expansive list of playable avatars and the distinct customization of each unique avatar. In The Chronicle, we are featuring nine playable base races with a total of 27 sub-races. That is 27 different avatars which each have distinct and unique customization options. We will discuss customization in a future developer journal and will focus on introducing our future explorers, warriors, heroes, empire rulers and evil nemeses.
Welcome to The Chronicle and those that inhabits these lands:
Having split into five distinct sub-races well before the End of the Past, it’s no surprise that humans have emerged once again as the most populous race on Vinthryl, spreading far and wide across the land of Ithesin. Though most of the ancient cities they once inhabited were reduced to ruins by Marothuvius, they have reorganized and rebuilt several cities, some almost reaching their former glory.
Humans are by far the most versatile of all the sentient races, bearing few talents but few deficiencies as well, able to assert themselves in any direction they choose. A unique trait they possess is that they are almost as easily influenced as they are influential to those around them. As such, humans were the first and only race to immediately take to worshiping the remaining five creator gods of Vinthryl. Humans are also known for their mysterious survivability, not because of any great fortitude or willpower, but from something else that no one really understands. When the flood withdraws, the earthquake calms, and the fires die down, it’s usually a human that somehow crawls from the wreckage, while hardier, quicker, smarter races don’t make it.
As far as anyone knows, the elves have always been a segregated race, adhering vehemently to their divisions and geographical locations. The notion is all the more believable from the fact that the elven sub-races, more than any other parent race, bears such distinct separations in both physical form and social organization. Noble elves are natural leaders, wild elves are unequaled in wilderness proficiency, wandering elves are adept with magical energies, sea elves are much sturdier than their land-bound cousins, and the dark elves are as smart as they are quick.
Unlike humans, who tend to worship divine entities, elves have always followed ideals instead. Each sub-race of the elven heritage largely adheres to a single ideal, though crossovers have been known. One thing is certain, however; elves are no less dedicated to their chosen ideal than devout humans are to their patron deities, including all ceremonies, duties, and sacrifices. The noble elven ideal is tradition, the wild elves favor change, wandering elves cherish knowledge, sea elves have a connection to cycle, and the dark elves focus on the self.
Hardy, precise, and diligent, the dwarves of Vinthryl have carved themselves an existence from mountains and caverns. Originally two separate breeds, the Mountain and the Deep, a third sub-race eventually emerged and came to be known as Surface Dwarves. They were the first of their kind to build cities under the sky and associate often with the other races that dwelled above ground, initiating a growing contempt from the remaining two, who already had their own disquietude over the centuries. The three sub-races share a common thread, though, in their ineptitude and resistance to magic.
For a race so rooted in honor and tradition, an oddity among the dwarves is their nearly unanimous agnosticism. Their common response to inquiries regarding faith and religion is what a profound waste of time it all is, time that would be better spent mining, building, or drinking. Some have speculated over the years that anyone who labors their entire life digging into the ground probably doesn’t know very much of the heavens above. Either way, dwarves aren’t embarrassed or proud of their lack of faith, thinking that even talking about religion, or anything they’re disinterested in for that matter, is a waste of time.