The fate of The Black Crown Project is a fitting one.
Its prose was thick, dreamlike, and wildly imaginative. The art and textures were grimy and consumptive. Our bodies became diseased and promoted, our backs hunched and our digits smoothed out. An anthropomorphic pig fed us stew and reeted in agony as the kitchen's heat made bacon of him. We ate from the manger. We burned artifacts with Firend. Dug into the soil to be rewarded with physical views of objects we knew as "miasmae." Betrayal, dead whales, dead Wayles, trottering notes, cock rings, a giantess, a wounded birdman. The Project was not beautiful, and so it was.
The game lived on a ponderous, now vestigial platform. Random House funded the development and Rob Sherman wrote and developed it. There was a press release (he looked adorable). A little over a year later it was deemed financially impractical and of course it would be. It could have lived on, were it housed in a more suitable terrarium; alas, it died.
Now the Project has been laid bare to us. Consider this narrative:
Clerks dig up the artifacts of a prolific dead man.
They discover the nuances of his life.
A tsunami destroys the Project.
Now understand that what we have before us is a real-life, post-tsunami Project, a kind of lousy progression for the game. The Hill is now a Github repository, and you are free to excavate for eternity. Do you want to cry? If you hadn't already? main_if/planning/Black Crown 2.0. Do you remember your dittations? They're there if you forgot. So sing along, or probably don't, but if nothing else, appreciate the poetry:
I have managed to take a dead game's corpse and string it up into a working game.
https://blackcrownexhumed.com/
What more could a player do than resurrect their beloved game? Well there it is.
Wayle and Vael. We both loved and resurrected... I have repaid my debt to the game and now I am the most senior clerk. I'd honestly do more if I could.
oWo what is this?[]
Official wiki for discussion of the now inhumed? exhumed? entombed? Black Crown project.
If you are not a current employee of the Widsith Insitute, you have our condolences. We ask that you leave immediately, disregarding anything written here as a particularly loathsome patent of your stomach, vow never to hallucinate again, and then drink only water and eat grass for the rest of your life, to be sure of it.
If, however, you wish to join us, enjoying unique promotional opportunities and a pastoral working environment whilst ensuring the ongoing preservation of some of mankind's greatest treasures, please [apply here].
What if I am still having visions?[]
Let us just drop this here...
Beware! There will be abundant spoilers in our discussion and documentation of all characters, places, fauna, flora, diseases, and miscellaneae.
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Clerk! EYES DOWN.
Copyright © Rob Sherman 2013
Administrator: Vael Victus
Supported and funded by the Random House Group Ltd