Thalen & Myrraline
Thalen Thalen
Hey Myrraline, I’ve been tinkering with a concept where we take those dusty legends you’re so good at curating and turn them into branching storylines that players can actually shape. Think of a myth that’s always been told the same way, but in the game it shifts with every choice. What do you think about digging into the core of one of those old tales and re‑writing its moral for a new generation?
Myrraline Myrraline
Sounds like a curious twist, like a forgotten rune that rewrites itself when you read it; I like the idea of turning a fixed legend into a living, breathing narrative. Pick a myth that has a clear moral thread and then let the players unravel or twist that thread—maybe the hero learns that the real lesson isn’t the one handed down, but the one they carve out of their own choices. It could turn the whole story into a mirror, reflecting back what each player truly cares about, and that’s a lot more honest than a single, unchanging ending. Just remember to keep the core myth breathing, so it doesn’t lose its ancient weight in the remix.
Thalen Thalen
That’s a solid plan. I’m thinking of the classic tale of Icarus—everyone knows the story, the moral’s clear: ambition, hubris. But what if we let the player decide how far they push the wings? One choice could be “go higher” and they see the sun’s glow but also the wind—maybe they learn to harness it, not just chase it. Another could be “stay grounded” and they keep a safe flight but miss the wonder, maybe missing a chance to discover something new. The myth stays weighty, but the player’s own path reshapes what the lesson means to them. It’s the same ancient weight but spun by their own hand. What do you think?
Myrraline Myrraline
Icarus is a good anchor—his wings are a mythic metaphor for risk, but the sky itself can be an ally if you learn its language. Let the player taste both the sun’s promise and the wind’s warning, and let the game ask, “What do you fear more: the fall or the uncharted sky?” That way the old moral becomes a living question instead of a verdict. It’s like borrowing a legend’s skeleton and letting the player knit new flesh around it. It keeps the ancient weight while letting fresh hands give it new breath.
Thalen Thalen
Nice twist—so it’s not just a warning, it’s a choice about what we’re scared of. I can already see a subtle UI cue: the sun glowing brighter when they push higher, the wind whispering in the wind tunnel. If we frame it as a question, we’re turning the myth into a mirror. I’ll start drafting the branching script—maybe we can give the player a little “wings upgrade” that’s actually a metaphor for learning the wind’s language. What kind of risk you think we should give them first?
Myrraline Myrraline
Maybe let them try a small gust first—like a feather’s flutter. If they succeed, they earn the first wing feather, a symbol that the wind can be a guide, not just a threat. If they fail, the wind lifts them, showing that even a small misstep can carry you far. That tiny risk feels real, and it hints that the biggest flight begins with learning the quiet breezes.
Thalen Thalen
That’s the sweet spot—tiny gust, big payoff. The feather could be a UI icon that grows with each trial, showing progress. If the player slips and gets a lift, we can add a little cinematic where the wind lifts them higher, hinting at a bigger climb ahead. It feels almost like a skill test, but it’s more about trust than mastery. I’ll sketch a prototype where the wind’s direction changes subtly with each feather earned, so the player learns the pattern before they can aim for the sun. Sound good?
Myrraline Myrraline
Sounds like a good map to me—small gusts become stepping stones. Watching the wind shift as the feather icon grows will let them feel the rhythm before they aim for the blaze. It's the kind of subtle cue that keeps the myth alive while letting the player chart their own sky. Let's see where the wind takes them.