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Last Updated: 5th December 1997

 

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Dafel: Bloodline Scrap Metal












[CoD - updated: 27th September 1997]
Dafel: Bloodline
CODE NAME: Dafel

Coders
  Liz Tucker
Jason Hayman
Richard Hodger
Ray Price
   
Design & Scripts
  Jason Hayman
Graphics
  Ai Van "Umbro" Bui (Ingame Graphics - 2D)
Ben Brosdahl (Animation Sequences)


DESCRIPTION: A very in-depth, involved, top-down RPG with gorgeous graphics and full Manga style animated film sequences between and during the game. Game has two engines, a Zelda type affair and a Street Fighter between-level engine.

Our current project is called "Dafel: Bloodline" , mixes the old Zelda type game to modern Beat-em-ups with good old RPG characters, speech & puzzles thrown in for good measure. The game runs on any AMIGA with AGA chipset displaying the graphics in glorious 128 colours. All the characters in the game are controlled by sophisticated AI routines, so the game will always play differently, even if you completed it once before.

 

Dafel trekking through the
mountain wilderness
 
Dafel trekking through the
mountain wilderness

 

We all believe that with this type of game a strong story line is essential to pull the player into the intricate world of "The Child of Darkness". Each level has been viewed as a chapter, thus a script has been written but we won't put it up here and spoil the fun of the game for you, instead you can read the prologue, the script for the animated introduction in the game. At the end you will be able to view some early sketches for the prologue.

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Prologue

'Tell me of the histories, Samson,' a voice asked, it was heavy with maturity and full of self-respect, a commanding yet peaceful voice.

'Histories, Dafel?' a whispery, ancient voice answered. A bent man with wispy grey hair and a crooked leg turned to face the middle-aged warrior. The dark haired knight looked splendid in his half-body armour, his broad shoulders and huge frame a menacing site to even the most ardent of enemies. The sun glinted of his nearly blue armour from the open archway of the towers window opposite the frail old man who stood with as much self-respect as the knight, but with a more dishevelled look about him, his hair wiry, his clothes smudged in dirt.

Samson glared at the knight’s armour and at the interlocked star that was painted atop the mans heart over his breast plate, he bit back a heated retort for such armour and what it signified, but Dafel had been a valued student of his many years ago so deserved his quiet, respectful tongue, even if he had deserted and gone with that cursed holy-man. He paused before he spoke then sighed. 'Why would a warrior-priest require knowledge of the histories?' Samson chortled. 'Has your Holy One finally seen the errors of his ways?' There was no respect in that taunting voice, only contempt and bitter spitefulness.

'No, Samson,' the armoured man answered with a wry tone. 'I do this for my own sake and not the King’s.' How could he explain to Samson why he had left him to serve the priest who had become King? Samson could be a bitter man at times, wise true enough, but terribly bitter. Dafel just wished that his master and Samson would see sense and work together to destroy the evil that was coming, but then he doubted Samson would ever forgive his King for the burning of his only love at the stake for being a witch. That galled at Dafel, there was no truth in it at all, the only time he had ever seen his mentor - his King - taken revenge into his own hands.

'Your own sake!' the old man bellowed. 'Hah! You are a fool Dafel! Your quest will only bring you death!' The old man mumbled amongst the sound of his shuffling feet as he approached the open window and gazed out into the blue dome of mid-summer sky. 'Death too us all. It is already too late.'

Samson’s tower had been erected upon the highest mountain in the kingdom over looking its rolling vastness. Clouds normally obscured his view looking like morning mist draped along the ground only the ground in this case was miles below. There not twenty leagues away on a twin pinnacle like his own and as small as a dolls house was the Keep of Souls, the house of Dafel’s most recent master of these long fifteen years since Dafel had last come to him for council, the master who had been a holy-man and now ruler of this damned kingdom. And how unhappy the kingdom had become.

‘Not until the evil is born and destroyed will I give up my quest. You taught me that, old man.’ Dafel said warmly to soften the insult.

Samson span on Dafel, that old teasing look about his weathered face that sent waves of forgotten memories of his lectures rushing through the warrior-priests mind. 'The Evil is among us already, my boy!'

'But -' was Dafel’s shocked, wide-eyed reply. How could the old man still so easily surprise him after all these years?

'Did I bring you up to say 'but', Dafel?' the old man didn't wait for an answer. 'The Evil was born not eight spans ago.'

'Eight spans!' Dafel barked. 'Why was I not told! You know of my oath, you were there those twenty spans ago!' Samson didn't answer. 'Why?' he almost pleaded.

‘I sent a message to your master nearly nine spans gone now, telling him of the coming evil and who would bare him. Dafel, he sent the poor wretch back whipped and bleeding. He was called a heathen for spreading such vile, pagan lies and was made as an example to others.’ Samson turned from his view out of his window, his usually soft eyes suddenly hard. ‘Your master is too wrapped up in his own worship of himself to care about the histories or what they foretell. He has become a King, Dafel, and as soon as that happened he was no longer Holy. His eyes are closed to the truth now, the fool, and we’ll all suffer for it.’

‘But the histories, Samson! What do they tell about the evil?’ Dafel beseeched.

Samson smiled, a tight, nasty smile that made Dafel shiver. ‘That we should have killed the boy at birth!’ Samson spat. ‘Or better, his mother.’

There had been an extra meaning behind the word when Samson had said ‘mother’, as if he knew something Dafel didn’t, something terrible. But then Samson always had secrets and only on rare occasions would he tell them, so Dafel shrugged the uneasy feeling away. Slowly he rose to his feet, majestically and confidently. ‘Then tell me where he is, Samson, and I will do as the histories demand. I will slit the evil child’s throat.’

Samson suddenly burst out laughing, jigging on the spot like a fool.

‘What’s so funny, Samson?’ Dafel demand hotly. ‘I see no mirth in the fate of our world?’

‘It’s not that,’ Samson replied, still smiling broadly. He hobbled from the window and pushed the large man in the chest forcing him with surprising strength back into the seat. ‘Do you want to know why I laugh, Dafel? Do you want to know my final revenge over your holy-king?’

‘I do,’ the warrior-priest replied, still unsure why Samson had laughed and wary of his answer. Somehow he knew he wasn’t going to like it.

‘The evil, my boy, is the baby son of your King.’ Dafel could only stare back, his mouth agape like a bemused first year apprentice.

‘My master ...’ Dafel’s voice trailed away as he tried to comprehend this truth. He had seen the boy on many occasions, had even been at his birthing rite to acclaim his as the future heir. He liked the boy who had grown into a strong eight year old, he had a charm about him that Dafel liked. He would make a good King when he came of age, better he would have to admit, than his current master who mixed religion with kingship into a dangerous combination.

How could he possibly kill the son of his devoted master and more importantly, the son of his sister ... his own nephew?

[Story (C) copyright Jason Hayman 1997]

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ALL IMAGES COPYRIGHT (C) Ben Brosdahl & Desktop Corruption

SKETCH 01: Dafel [pronounced: Davel]. Our main character.

SKETCH 02: The Priest/King. The main evil character.

SKETCH 03: Samson. Dafel's mentor.

SKETCH 04: Various sketches of Samson.

SKETCH 05: Basic guard sketch.

SKETCH 06: Cut-scene where Samson, while young, tries to rescue his lover.

SKETCH 07: Cut-scene showing the "burning". Adult content!

SKETCH 08: Cut-scene showing the flames from the "burning" reflecting in the Priest's eyes.


















[SM - updated: 14th November 1997]
Scrap Metal

Coders
  Ian Chisholm
Liz Tucker
Jason Hayman
Garfield Benjamin
   
Design & Scripts
  Ian Chisholm & Jason Hayman
Graphics
  David Howe (Ingame Graphics - 3D)
Ben Brosdahl (Animation Sequences)


DESCRIPTION: Pre-rendered 3D driven strategic/shoot-em-up mining game. A cross between Command and Conquer and UFO with a hint of Elite.