Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

---

Hi ya'll. It's been awhile since I've posted anything, so hi again =)

This is a general discussion about a possible combat system for games. If this shouldn't be here, I apologize, and will move it to a suitable location. Thanks for your patience.

I've just watched a gameplay demo of Star Wars: the Old Republic, and I just couldn't take it anymore: why-oh-why do developers still stick to the old combat system? You know the type: I stand here, you stand a couple of feet away, both characters do their own time-based combat animation with no sync, no timing, and just deal damage according to a fixed DPS.

So, I started thinking: is there a better way? I'm writing here because I have an idea, but I have no idea how feasible it is, and I think that, if it is do-able, the combined skill and expertise of Newgrounders would be the way to go.

The idea is to have two avatars locked in a synced-up combat animation, based on stances. If for example one character is on offensive stance, one on defensive, then the offensive would 'lead', like in a dance, and the other would 'follow' with blocking manouevres. One move would follow another smoothly and logically, such as an upper-right to lower-left diagonal swing would logically be followed by another swing from left-to-right (diagonal or straight can be randomized, for a more natural effect).

The idea is to set up a balance here. Without intervention, this combat animation is continuous. Stats would come into play affecting details of how the combat plays out. If the offensive character has overwhelmingly greater strength, the defensive character would be forced backward with every strike. Speed of consecutive strikes would be determined by the offensive character's speed stat, for example.

It would of course be boring if that was all.

So, let's say characters have two 'life' stats: stamina and health. Stamina is consumed so long as you are in battle, and depletes depending on the combat situation and stats. Defending requires less stamina per second, attacking requires more. Wielding a heavier weapon consumes more stamina. Being forced beyond your normal pacing (opponent's speed stat much higher) causes extra stamina drain. Depletion of stamina ends a character's will to fight. Health, on the other hand, covers everything. A drop in health causes a drop in all stats, maybe even causing extra penalties (bleeding causes even faster stamina depletion, arm wounds cause lowered damage, for example).

So far, we have a continuous combat animation going on, with a fixed stamina depletion rate for both parties based on combat situation and stats. Boring and deterministic. Leaving the combat to carry on on its own would definitely favour one side, and so skills come in to tip the balance. For example, offensive character with high-strength pummels at a defensive character --> defensive character's stamina is dropping at an alarming rate. Foreseeing a bad end should this continue, the defensive character can, just before a blow from the attacker, perform a feint and evade move, which, if the attacker continues to attack, would result in the attacker losing balance. This opens up a chance for the defender to perform a wounding move (reducing health instead of just stamina). Perhaps this could be done with a pseudo-quicktime event? A button flashes across the screen, if attacker presses first, he regains balance, if defender presses first, then a wounding blow is struck. We could even play with these things based on passive skills --> a certain skill allows you to see the quicktime button just a fraction of a second sooner?

There's more, but I'm may already be overstaying my welcome. If anyone out there thinks this is a good idea, do-able, then maybe we can continue this discussion? Thanks for reading through such a long, rambling message.

---

Aw, man... Mine didn't make it either.

No worries. There's always next year =)

Nicely put together. Kudos to all involved.

---

Whoa... First of all, thanks for the comment, xTY3. Really appreciate it. I was pretty certain that by now, that work would be old news, and no one would really care.

While I agree that the angel works conceptually, I have to say that in this particular piece, it seemed unnatural and out of place. It's more my lack of skill with the piece, rather than the fault of the angel itself. Still, if I could've make it work, it would've been cool, but at the moment, I can't, so I left it out.

But thanks for the advice. Maybe next time if I figure out how to do it right, I'll post up a version with the angel =)

---

"You must now face those who have fallen by your hand," said the voice softly.

The smirk upon the Tyrant's face remained unchanged. He scoffed.

"One? Against thousands?" he asked, gesturing to his band of monstrous soldiers that stretched from horizon to horizon. Some laughter broke out from among them. Others remained silent, perhaps lacking the intelligence to recognize the absurdity of the situation, or perhaps merely having a far more cruel and physical sense of humour.

From his throne, placed upon a dais of ivory and gold, carried upon the backs of twelve men, the god-like Tyrant glared down at the stranger.

"For this... you have made me stop our march."

The Tyrants voice was lower now, but far more threatening. It carried an edge of death and pain. His horde has heard this voice before. It was the voice which called upon their blood to kill and pillage. Some of them licked their lips. All of them reached for their weapons.

The stranger still knelt upon the floor, dressed in sleek armour of blue and silver. They contrasted against the Tyrant's own red and black plates, forged of steel and obsidian. Rising from the kneeling position, the lone knight picked up the enormous sword, also of blue and silver, which had been laid to a side. As the wind picked up the knight's cape, the great sword was raised and pointed purposefully at the Tyrants head. In the howling that echoed through the canyon, a voice could be heard, cutting clear through:

"I may be one, but I carry the will of a thousand!"

The knight charged, the horde wailed. Axes and swords, pikes and clubs, all came at the blue and silver streak from all sides. Screams challenged the hot wind's howls as arms and heads were lopped off from their disfigured bodies. The dusty ground, dry for centuries since it last saw water as the bed of a mighty river, was now wet with crimson blood. Slowly but surely, the blue cape travelled through the savage band of monsters, leaving a trail of corpses and deep red mud.

The Tyrant, confident before, began to grow alarmed. Turning around, he signaled to his band of cowled servants. All thirty of them stepped forward, their faces deep in the shadows of their dark red hoods. Pulling back their capes, their revealed their naked bodies, scarred from blood rituals and prescribed torment. Softly they began chanting, drawing deep, bloody cuts into their arms as their sharpened nails drew vile symbols in their own flesh.

Further away, but getting closer every minute, the knight fought on, oblivious to this change in the battle plan. Already parts of the blue cape were tattered and torn. Deep dents could be seen on the once-perfect metalwork of the armour. Still the knight showed no signs of slowing.

Deep dark pools of energy were forming upon the hands of the cowled wizards. As one, they raised their right hand, each drawing his dark nucleus of power to a point at his fingertip. Their chants begin to coalesce, forming into a clear drone beneath the screams of the dying. Suddenly, they stopped.

The knight glanced up.

The mages screamed. Their screams were of pure agony, formed by the pain of a lifetime of torment inflicted upon their bodies by their own hand and the hands of allies and friends. Their wail was one that would grate upon the soul, like a baby's scream in the night as its arm is slowly pulled from its body. It was a sound enough to drive a person hopelessly into insanity.

Purple-blue darkness streaked from thirty fingers. The horde cleared a path. They knew what the darkness held.

Sensing the lull in the battle, the knight raised the great sword into the air, and then plunged it deep into the ground. Ramming a shoulder into the sword, the knight braced for impact.

The sword took on the blasts of energy, but then something unusual happened. The metal parted where the bolts hit, revealing swirling pools of nothingness beneath. The pools absorbed every blast that connected. Eventually, the screaming stopped. The wizards lowered their hands. Their eyes widened as they saw the pools flow together like beads of quicksilver. They turned to run, but they had barely gotten a few steps before the bright shaft of light hit them. It emanated from the blade, shredding the fowl sorcerers and all who stood between them and the knight to faintly glowing ashes.

Slowly the knight stood up. Everyone else hesitated. With some effort, the sword was pulled from the ground. Seeing this, some of the horde turned tail and ran.

Heaving the giant sword, the knight charged once again. Some of the horde stood their ground, more ran away. Many of them perished that day.

The Tyrant was now on the verge of panic.

"Kill him! Kill him!" he screamed, yet he watched in horror as more and more of his men went down, spilling guts and losing limbs before they were left wreathing on the ground. Slowly, however, he began to regain some confidence. He smiled as one axe left a crack in the sword. He grinned as someone tore the cape in half. He nearly cheered when a stray blow knocked the blue and silver helmet onto the ground, revealing a head crowned with long, shoulder-length hair. His glee was short-lived however, and he drew back as the knight made an inhuman leap, and the sword came crashing down, burying deep into the dais exactly where the Tyrant had stood just seconds before.

The knight raised her head.

Realization dawned upon the evil dictator. A woman, he thought.

Indeed the knight was a woman. She had shoulder-length hair of silver and gold, and in her blue eyes was a great determination. Her eyes made him uneasy, for in them he found not hate, nor a yearning for vengeance. It was something that his own sinister mind could not comprehend. It was the look of a person touched by fate.

Now, as he takes the time to study her, he finds his usual arrogance returning to him. Parts of the armour had been knocked clean off, and some parts had been cleaved and split, and beneath them were revealed deep cuts and dark bruises. She was breathing heavily, and it was clear that she had little energy left. The Tyrant, on the other hand, was a very skilled tactician and swordsman, and he was fully rested. He glanced down the side of the throne, and counted still hundreds of his men still standing.

"And what will you do now, fair knight?" he shouted.

His voice echoed through the canyon, now red with a river of blood.

"What can you do now, one against so many?"

The Tyrant gave her a lopsided smile.

The knight continued to give him a steady stare. When she finally spoke, she spoke softly: "I came bearing the souls of a thousand..."

Gripping the hilt of the sword, she pulled herself up to her feet.

"I am now inspiration to a thousand more."

It started as a whisper at first, but it slowly grew into a roar, sounding like a torrent charging down the ravine.

"Down with the Tyrant! Down with the Tyrant!" they shouted, the voices of thousands of people; they were peasants, workers, soldiers; men and women, young and old. They were people who will no longer suffer the brutality of the Tyrant. They were those who have learned to stand up for themselves. They lined the canyon on all sides, cheering the knight on, proclaiming her their savior. They were not an army. They were not fighters. They were not heroes. But they would no longer leave their fate in the hands of monsters.

Yes, they were not an army, but their will is strong, and their number many.

As the Tyrant turned around to take in the faces of the rebels, behind him came the sound of a sword being pulled from his throne of ivory and gold...

---

With your superior intellect, tell scientist "hang on a sec" in a very clever fashion, then proceed to reprogramme yourself, raising dexterity to Cirque-du-Soleil-performer levels.

*yes, it isn't very good. But I just didn't wanna feel left out* =P

---

Hey, J-qb. It's been awhile, and I'm sorry this took so long.

I decided to sort-of-redo the pic. It's a bit of a rush job, and I'm still not too familiar with using a tablet, so it might not be as polished as the original.

I've removed the angel after some thought, though. Lemme know if it ended up being too empty.

PNG dump here

Funnily enough, the guy in the pic turned out looking a lot like me, for some surreal reason... 0.o

---

At 5/24/10 11:12 PM, MajesticBob wrote: Hand drawn WIP

Just thought I'd try to contribute. It's just some advice, though, so feel free to take what is of value, and ignore what isn't.

I think what Big Johnny said makes sense. The body is a wee bit too short, but another thing to note is that the hip segment seems to missing or distorted, which might explain why the person looks a little squashed.

As for the legs, generally the thighs taper down until just below the knee. Currently the thinnest point of the thigh is above the knee, which would make the thigh look short. The missing hip segment also caused the legs to seem a bit too far apart.

All in all, not a bad effort, really. Maybe some study into bone structure or anatomy would help?

Sorry for the messy illustration, but it might help make sense of what I've written down. Cheers, and all the best!

---

At 5/16/10 09:47 AM, J-qb wrote:

Xentarim - guy and angel - yes; but see if you can add another shade please?

Ah. Sorry for not having gotten round to it. Have been somewhat preoccupied of late. I'll get to it, hopefully before the week is out =)

---

At 5/14/10 02:03 AM, Leeland wrote: i actually don't like drawing so i'm not gonna draw some more to this.
but how about these paint splatters?? they somehow make the drawing look more complete i think, or maybe i should add more?

That... is... AWESOMEZ! 0.o

---

At 5/4/10 06:37 AM, J-qb wrote:

At 5/4/10 06:32 AM, Xentarim wrote: Hi all. I'd like to put something up too.

It's a bit plain, I know, and the angel's somewhat contrived. So far anything I've tried to add in (including the angel) only seems to be very artificial. If I could, I'd probably just leave the background blank.

Any opinion on this matter is welcome =)

it looks cool, and I dont think you need to add extra objects to it. I would like you to add some more shades though.

Ah. Actually, I was going for a 2-tone monochrome thing. No good? If you insist, I'll see what can be done.

---

Hi all. I'd like to put something up too.

It's a bit plain, I know, and the angel's somewhat contrived. So far anything I've tried to add in (including the angel) only seems to be very artificial. If I could, I'd probably just leave the background blank.

Any opinion on this matter is welcome =)

PNG dump here

---

At 4/7/10 08:46 AM, EchoRun wrote:

Akk! Raziel!! *worships*

Ahem. Excuse my fangirl moment there...

I have been thinking of joining this colab. My only problem before has been think of what to do... eh, I'll come up with something.

Ohmigosh! A Raziel fan! I thought we've gone the way of the Dodo bird...

Seriously, I wonder how many people actually know of or remember the Soul Reaver series.

Well, time to crack my head and see if there are any good ideas left in there...

---

Another attempt. This time a tribute to a revolutionary character from a revolutionary series of games, who has perhaps recently fallen to obscurity.

Raziel, from the Legacy of Kain series, better known as the Soul Reaver.

the Soul Reaver

---

At 3/19/10 08:27 PM, JKAmovies wrote: Xentarim:
I like the idea, but since the eye is looking through the paper, the eye and his face should be a slightly different colour than the paper. Or some shades coming from under the paper onto the face would make it more affective too.

Hm... Well, here's the same piece modified. However, I wasn't sure if I should have made the colours completely opaque, so I'd appreciate any opinion given on this matter. The version I have uploaded here has some transparency.

---

Ah. Finally got the paper templates, so here's my submission. Thought I'd have fun with the whole notepaper idea.

What's this?

I had originally intended to clean it up, add a bit of effects perhaps, but in the end, it just had a better effect as a messy sketch. If this spooks you, please let me know, cos that's definitely not what I had in mind.

As for the required details:

Location: Singapore
Age & Gender: going on 27, male
Fun fact: written above. Plus, my hobbies include reading, writing, and, of course, art stuff (though probably not the kind of things critics regard as 'avant garde')

---

Hello all,

This looks like a really interesting project, and I'd love to join in. I'm having problems trying to get the default BGs though. The links in the first post just keep timing out on me.

Is there any other place I might get them from? I just can't seem to access Imageshack for some reason.

Thanks in advance.

---

Well, thanks for the support.

Truly, tigerkitty had it dissected like a true professional. I shall try to keep those pointers in mind in future.

Ass-Crumb and Oobeedoopskadoobie (I had to copy and paste that...), much thanks for your support. Yes, I was going for a sort of irony, probably influence from Pratchett and, sometimes, Gaiman. It's pretty much about weaving a tale that was fantastical, and making the reader go "wow... that guys cool"

Originally I had planned to make Jiminy part of a long story, but I've always been better at short stories than long ones.

Still, not all my works are humourous. In fact, quite a few of them are downright depressing. The following is one good example. It still gives me goosebumps when I read it:

the Scarred

See me now, a heart shriveled and scarred, scaly to the touch, hard as stone, dry as sand.
See me now, and know that it was not always like this. I am flawed; I am imperfect, for I loved.

And each of you came, in your pain and your suffering. You came to my embrace, to my comfort. Suddenly, you came, and I held you and consoled you and offered your heart my own.

And so piece by piece, little by little, you each have taken from me. A small part of me to patch your souls; a small part of me to mend your wounds; a small part of me to make you whole.

But suddenly, you left. Once whole, you left. I was left to my own wounds, to the gaping holes from which you took to fill your own.

Wounds too deep and too often tend to scar.

And so here I am, hard and bitter, cruel and insane. I embrace you no more; I cannot call you friends. I cannot call you friend, for I do not know friend from foe. My heart is shriveled and scarred, scaly to the touch, hard as stone, dry as sand.

I am flawed; I am imperfect, I always have been; for I have loved, and I always have.

---

I have not written in a long while. I used to write short stories once, on a blog. Few read them, the ideas dried, and eventually, I stopped. It's been a couple of years, and I thought maybe it's time to resurrect the hobby. Who knows, maybe some of you out there might even *like* the stuff. So, here we go, some of the stuff that I've written and not quite forgotten.

The Attempted Hanging of Jiminy "Quickfingers"

Jiminy "Quickfingers" is, however you see it, a thief.

To say he was "quick" would be an understatement.

In fact, to say that you couldn't see his hands would be quite the wrong statement as well.
You could always see his hands. It was just that while you were watching his hands, your purse or wallet somehow found a way into his pocket.

Today is special. Today, Jiminy is going to hang.

It would probably be easier if he wasn't such a lovable rascal.

Despite it all, he never really took more than his victim could afford, and so it quite puzzled him that, while most poor people don't mind parting with a dollar or two, the rich were inclined to have him killed over a nickel.

It is because of this, that today, he walks out from his cell, toward the gallows, amidst a silent crowd who have come to witness his death.

He takes the rickety wooden steps, up onto the rickety wooden platform, and comes to a stop beneath the noose which was to be his end. The executioner stands next to him, upper torso bare, head in a black hood. There is no expression to be read there. He is just a man with a job to do.

Jiminy waits silently, as the noose is pulled over his head, and the knot tightened around his neck. He could feel the prickly hemp fibres poking on his nape.

Another man is there, standing a little way away. Jiminy isn't quite sure who he is, but he was reading from a list. It was a best-of list of Jiminy's many and, to be honest, often incredible crimes. He could make huge items disappear before a room full of people. He could spirit away items and the room would still be locked after.

Basically, no one ever had any evidence that he had committed any crime at all, apart from the observation that things unmistakably go missing within his immediate vicinity. Lacking any alternative, they did the only thing they could do, which was to have him executed without a trial.

Even so, Jiminy isn't paying attention. After all, the next moment would need his full concentration.

The man finishes his list, and turns to Jiminy.

"Have you any last words, my son?"

Jiminy raises his head, but says nothing. He merely shakes his head.

The man, in turn, nods to the large man in the hood.

The executioner turns to a big lever set in the floor, grasps it in both hands, and pulls.

The trapdoor beneath Jiminy's feet slams open he feels the ground disappear from underneath him.

One or two onlookers gasp as he falls thru the trapdoor, and a dull thud follows shortly after...

Then, a slithery noise as of some serpent, as ropes slide gently to the ground.

Absolute silence reigned...

And there stands Jiminy, both feet on solid ground, arms outstretched for balance.

In the shocked soundlessness, he takes a moment to make a mental check that all his neck bones are intact, and then carefully, very slowly, he straightens up and raises his head to the crowd.

A wide smile breaks across his face, like the sun in a brilliant new dawn, and, with much ceremony, he bows gracefully to the watching horde, which by now were cheering madly for him.

It was such a beautiful moment that he didn't even immediately realize the rough hands grabbing him under the arms. The guards then begin to drag him away, with Jiminy's face still set in a silly grin.

As they do so, you can hear one of them hiss: "Alright, wise guy. Next time, we shoot you".

---

Here's another try. Started as a bubble idea, but found that a solid, bead thing seemed neater all round.

Again, was going mainly for a neat icon. The music sheet on the shadows would probably only be visible on larger versions of the icon though.

The white sphere container might need resizing and/or reshaping.

Will probably try something a bit more outlandish next, if I still have time.

---

Hey there everyone. This looks interesting, so I thought I'd give it a go. Went for 3-D-ing the headphones, but left the "t" flat cos it seems to catch more attention that way.

Went for a mostly clean look, cos that'd probably work better if you intend to size it down.

Could probably do with more work, and a whole lot of touch-up, but I'm not exactly great with colours and stuff, so I guess it's more a submission of a concept. If you like the idea and wanna run with it, well, great!

P.S. also done using GIMP