Infinity and Technology
We’ve devoted a whole page to customization, seeing how dramatic a centerpiece it is in the MMO world. Choosing how one’s character appears, their style, and their aura is at the heart of any freeform game. As Chaoscraft offers such a deeply extensive spectrum of personal aesthetic modifications, we want to overview our current dream and the infinite spectrum of character we desire and know to be possible.
Under this overview, we will showcase three unique aesthetic styles for each of the 32 classes we plan for future release. Here, we’ll see conceptual exhibitions of each of the races, illustrating how multiple races can play multiple classes and so adapt manifold styles.
We’re transparent with the community about how we, a team of three devs who specialize in select skillsets, create concept art at this time. We would love to see all of this art created by a living artist soon. Remember, no matter how we make concept art, this kind of showcase conveys the game’s essence, revealing to you, the player, what it is we’re making in Chaoscraft.
We ask you keep in mind two points. One, this is of course a design abstract at this stage. We’ll exhibit prototypes of models as development progresses, taking the extended time it does in any game. It is extremely important a game have a detailed design abstract, to inform artistic direction. This design shows you, the player, what it is we want to create.
While all of these character types appear extremely detailed, so much so they can strike one as being so detailed as to have never been seen in a game before, each one you see below can in fact be made in an engine, provided sufficient time, discipline, and resources. None of this is a question of physical possibility. It is all a matter of time. Time is what is needed for artists to patiently create and perfect each piece, adding physiques, accessories, and styles until a model’s profile is complete. Each week an artist works, they refine detail further. Then they may add more in the future, when they revisit it. Over time, customization options expand, until they eventually grow so vast they become practically infinite.
So while all of this is currently conceptual at time of writing, what matters most is that, if Chaoscraft receives the same level of community support as other MMOs, all of what you see here becomes easily doable. It is only a matter of time, and giving skilled artists all they need.
Slayer
Elf
Among the rainy pines on the eastern edge of Twilight Forest, a chill-veined Slayer prepares for the chaotic embrace of mortal combat. To someone like this, battle is a solemn mark of honor, where wit and might are measured and fates decided. One look in his eyes and you can tell this Elf hasn’t the slightest care for what you think about him or his quest. Is it one of vengeance? Seeking the blood of those who ended a close friend? One would be wise to remember, when one happens across such scenes, it isn’t always easy to tell who is the true aggressor.
Dwarf
Beefy, bulky, and generally short-tempered, the Dwarf Slayer you see before you has a personal penchant for the volcanic, and flaming skulls. Who wouldn’t? His choice of armor is futuristic, looking more like a space Dwarf than a run-of-the-mill mountaineer. Subtle flame details tell you all you need to know about this BAMF. By the looks of it, he’s taking it easy in his Magic Realm’s HQ, perhaps planning his next move in search of Exotic Energy to evolve the volcano lair.
Gnome
You know when you see a crazy fuck like this it’s time to run or quickly figure out how to kill it. Whoever he is, he’s decided all he needs is an orange-and-black battlemace, a bunny-spotted tropical shirt, and a pair of flipflops. No guns. No spells. Just pure power. There’s nowhere like the candy world he’s in around the Prefecture, so, like the space Dwarf, he must be in a Magic Realm. Thing about Magic Realms is, if you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, you might enter one and immediately see a sight like this.
Doomcarver
Sifting across the yellow sands, a tattered skeleton seeks an unknown end. Its axes glow with small streaks of emerald lightning that spark with each strike, oozing from their edges a crimson smoke. Its movement is that of a phantom, traversing space and time without moving a muscle. In a flash, it teleports at infinite range, drawing closer to any it sets its sight on. Its tone is minimalistic, abstaining from the more extravagant expressions of its contemporaries. It’s more interested in finding fresh blood to fight than the finer points of fashion.
How lovely those flaring orange locks, waving above her pink skull like silk. This stylish queen simply adores all the wonderful ways you can alter your appearance, shifting forms and personas at whim. Every single part of her is carefully hand-selected: Her maroon coat, her diamond earrings, the magic pink hearts in her eye sockets, the curly wisps of darkness slithering from her mouth… And her axe… How she just loves those blue crystalline edges! They’re simply gorgeous… When she isn’t busy decorating and trying on new clothes, she occasionally takes a stroll into the outworld to give those crystal blades a spin, and roll some heads. Whatever you do, don’t forget the cute little cat!
Doomcarvers are one of the several race classes, being both a race and a class. There exist two types: skeletons and shades. He’s a shade, trailing black mists everywhere he goes, faceless and expressionless. His axes too glow with emerald lightning, a tradition among Doomcarvers. Now, you’ll notice first the sexy striped suit, and classy fedora. This is, in laymen’s terms, a cosmetic necessity. If you don’t wear the suit just so, it doesn’t hit the same. When you fight a Carver like this, you must be careful not to get too distracted by his dashing looks and sigma aura.
Demon Hunter
Biomorph
He gazes at you coldly down the tavern hall. Here, Tipsy’s orbs keep her guests relaxed and passive. None of them want to fight. This sexy hawk could be a professional hitman, a neutral lone wolf, or a seasoned Demon Hunter with an eye for trouble. That sword he carries cuts deep. He isn’t afraid to use it, if you rub him the wrong way or your name is given to him for the right price. If he seems too sexy to be real, maybe that’s because he rocks the look like no one else.
Human
She’s a firecracker and you wouldn’t have it any other way, if you could. That big mallet in her hand ain’t no cartoon joke. She will bonk you with that shit and it will hurt. If a rascally rabbit tries to run, she’s got her trusty 12-gauge to put it down real quick. This is the type who probably doesn’t care one way or the other whether you’re a demon. She’s got a special set of skills and she might want to fight whether you’re down to tangle or not.
Alien
Some Aliens are not what you expect. If you think a Demon Hunter couldn’t possibly be a green-skinned goon from outer space with a triple-barreled shotgun, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. He may look mean, but that’s because he’s a no-nonsense kind of guy. His heavy shotgun and build make him move a little slower, but he’s not here to go on a wild goose chase. If he gets the jump on you, you probably won’t have anywhere to run anyway. As for the smiley faces, well… Everyone’s got their secrets.
Nether Dragon
A hulking behemoth thunders across the sands, dragging his massive tail in his wake. Like a chunky apparition plucked from the dream of a medieval soldier, this Dragon could be, believe it or not, a jokester. If his whole getup seems absurd, maybe he wants it that way. And by the looks of it, he’s a bit chunkier than he should be. Maybe he got hold of one of the giant potions in the slums beneath Arcadia. There’s no denying one thing: that axe is as sharp as those claws. If he so much as belches in your direction, you’re burnt toast.
Not all Dragons want to fight. Here we see the typical old school musician type. He spends most of his time in Magic Realms, where he makes friends with the butterflies and marvels at the pretty flowers. Unlike most of the characters one is likely to come across in the open world, this Nether Dragon might very well absolutely refuse to battle. He’s more interested in big vibing, drifting the days away on a cloud of smoke.
What you behold before you is a Nether Dragon who walks the path of a wizard. Slim built and fast, carrying nothing on its person save its staff, it specializes in magic and Hand-to-hand Combat. It shifts between melee and magic fluidly in the heat of battle. Its use of a staff limits its equipment slots for other weapons and items, and while it can only cast select common spells, how it uses its spells in combination with its powers as a Nether Dragon is what defines it as a sorcerer.
Samurai
Shinigami
It walks in icy focus through the abyssal red it finds most familiar. Male or female, good or evil – these terms grow clouded and imprecise in their world. A Shinigami Samurai is a rare sight in the overworld. If you see one, it probably saw you first. Don’t blink. Their eyes see death in everything, thus seeing life a touch sharper than everyone else. It will never be decisively determined, I think, why the Shinigami and the Samurai seem to hold such a close affinity.
Anomaly
Before your eyes you see an Anomaly who’s broken all the laws of bushido. He abandoned the Samurai way, carving his own path as a cold-hearted gunslinger with a daredevil deathwish. Despite leaving his katana behind forever, he still keeps some of his Samurai skills, moving quick as a wasp and throwing curveballs at all who cross him like a walking wildcard. What? You don’t believe he’s a Samurai? Must a Samurai wield a katana to be a Samurai? Now an Outlaw who can’t resist the thrill of an old-fashioned shootout in the Endville desert, he’ll always remember what it felt like to hold a blade, and what his katana taught him about how to tangle with Sheriffs.
Golem
Unshakably honorable beyond words, the gusoku-clad Golem awaits your first move in a one on one battle for glory. He shall not retreat no matter the ebb and flow of advantage intrinsic to all combat. Those eyes, they speak of an obsidian resolve you cannot possibly begin to feel, lest you walk the same frosty path of bottomless will and unimaginable pain. He became a Golem – or always was – as a symbol of the stone heart that resounds deftly within, preparing him each waking moment for the day or night he finally encounters a worthy challenger.
Adept
Ogre
Serious, straightforward, and focused as a bullet, he brings the discipline of the martial arts into all facets of his life. This isn’t typically the type to fight you without warning. It’s far likelier he’ll ask if you’d care to spar, and let you have the first move. If you’re wondering why Ogres can be blonde with piercings all the sudden, it’s because you weren’t told the truth about them. Ogres aren’t all chunky blustering bumblers. Some of them are so cut and alpha, they leave lesser races quaking in their boots.
Troll
If a fool pipes up, it’s time to pipe down. You think Gs can’t wear glitter? You must not know your head from your ass. He’s kickin it old school whether you dig the drip or not. A guy like this will throw down with anyone, anytime. They call it FAFO. You don’t want to catch these hands. Shit will get wild, real quick. Don’t need a piece. Every punch packs more power than any 9mm ever could. Once you get to bussin yo ass gets mopped up on the discofloor faster than you can say twenty three ways to Sunday. As for the afro. Look… It’s called keepin it real, my guy.
Orc
Up in the clouds somewhere far away, a weathered Orc meditates in lotus serenity. She hones her prowess with each breath, walking the warrior way for eternity. An Adept like this may have never laid a finger on another. Not every martial artist trains to fight. Some follow another path to enlightenment, seeing in the body’s strength a higher wisdom beyond war.
Demon
She’s like, totally better than you and you’re just mad. If you weren’t so busy staring at her tits maybe you’d go a single night without losing every Duel. Whether you believe her is up to you. She isn’t afraid to tell you straight you suck and you’re ugly. Her toxic aura oozes from her wicked head, literally. Was she always such a mean girl? Did the horns bring her devilish side out? They say she’s in Twilight Forest talking shit every night, roasting all in her path for no apparent reason.
At a glance, it’s another scrawny nerd, geeky spectacles, pocket pen and all. In some circles, a dude like him is the target of bullies. On the Arena circuit, he’s the bully. He knows he outclasses his opposition and he feels no need to tell them. It’s told in the story of the post-game scoreboard. Queueing matches at 2 AM, he’s laser focused in the prep room, moving into the fray without fear and knowing, deep down in his heart, the one key secret of victory: When you maneuver without hesitation, it makes your enemies that much likelier to hesitate themselves.
Shit… Just when you thought you’d seen it all. She’s not afraid or ashamed to show it. Life is about more than legacy or having a good time. She knows you know she knows, and she likes it. Got a problem? She’ll bitchslap you into the grave if you make a peep. She’s a strong independent woman who don’t need no man. Don’t you think she don’t know how to tangle. Sometimes, when the stars align, there are two words and two worlds only that matter in a lady’s life:
Full send.
Full send.
Reaper
A textbook classic Reaper. In this portrait we see the shadow’s signature red eyes, hooded shape, and single visible hand. You’d be interested to know that hand is something that can be felt, if you happen across one. This Reaper has rented a room in the tavern of south Bleakwood. It’s impossible to say what’s on its mind. As it contemplates the dreary forest or gestures to a visitor, one can’t but wonder why it’s so night black, and where its other hand seems to be, if it has one.
She’s got that fire in her step, dancing along the melting rainbow curves of her fractal dream without a care in the world. This dimension is not any of the regions in the main overworld of Arcadia Prefeccture. It’s probably a Magic Realm. Does she have only one life in this realm? Is she dancing for fun or is there more at stake than a good time? Those bunny ears don’t make her more vulnerable to damage. They’re just for show. Heck, these days, you’d have to wonder whether the soul in her is a she at all.
In this uncanny scene we see a total certified edgelord. This one’s got a thing for werewolves, but he ain’t no werewolf. He just looks like one. This is the breed of Reaper you don’t want to cross paths with, even if you think you’re smarter and quicker than him. It doesn’t really matter how skilled someone like this is. Their mere presence is chaotic, and unpredictable. If they don’t kill you, one of their friends or some unexpected stranger or monster very well might.
Stalker
A sly creeper moves on a bed of gloom. In this portrait, a classic neighborhood watch-style Stalker rocks the look to perfection. Eyeless. Faceless. Anonymous as a nightmare. There isn’t always that much to these types. They waltz into and out of lives like so much hallucinatory dandelion dust. It’s something about the coat and hat. No other combination would elicit quite the same effect.
A debonair classy lass makes her way through the desert, sapphire dagger at her side. She absolutely loves fuchsia. What a phenomenal color. It speaks volumes no scientist could classify in any textbook. In her fabulous coat and derby hat, she likes to think herself the talk of the town. Little do her arch nemeses know she’s the pink Doomcarver’s alter-ego… Perhaps the getup gives it away. In any case, there’s just something so thrilling and memorable about taking a stroll in search of someone to stab. After all, aren’t most games these days about killing people?
With a jack-o-lantern face and bright yellow eyes, the heavyset Stalker seen here has a thing for rabbits. He keeps his rabbit in his pocket day and night, giving it plenty of carrots and many pettings. He might look scary, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to shank you in a heartbeat. You’d have to do something awfully nasty to his rabbit to make him mad. Otherwise, that serrated grin will stay glowing beneath his shadow.
Nightmare Weaver
A monstrous eight-legged horror comes crawling quickly out of a mass of cobwebs, eyeing its prey for death. Weavers represent a splendid example of the axiom not all demons have horns. Misshapen purple splotches stain its orange skin, green venom dripping past its thorny mutated tongues. If its anatomy looks fucked up it’s because it’s fucked up in the head. It couldn’t give two shits about “fashion” or “style” – What does any of that mean if you’re going to die?
Classical music bathes the ambience in a soothing invisible mist of mingling voices and laughter. In one corner of the room, sipping wine by the rainy window, a suave spider in a suit entertains every word said, paying close attention and nodding along. If one didn’t know better, he seems like the kind of guest to act as a spy, collecting intel at a rival Guild’s dinner party to track their movements and glean key pieces of information when they’re at their drunkest. Indeed, in real realms of the fantastical and magical, spies do more than ‘roleplay’ in their covert operations.
She crawls hastily through the twisting stone corridors of a Labyrinth. Accompanying her party into its depths, she spreads silk across the floors and walls to strategically slow and trap monsters. It’s honestly a coincidence if her face resembles the Predator. She looks so obscenely rotten because, to be frank, she’s the only one in this expo who can truly be called a rotten bitch. She doesn’t have any problem with you saying as much. It comes with the territory.
Trapdoor Spider
It lies hidden beneath the earth, watching all from within the dusty gloom of its lair. Concealed in darkness, it’s impossible to say who it is, nor its ultimate alignment. It’s an edgy breed. That much is certain. If it sounds annoying to deal with random spiders and trapdoors, this is why it’s advised to carry spells or weapons of fire with you. These fuckers burn.
She doesn’t know where she is, what Chaoscraft is, or how to do anything. All she knows is, she likes being a spider. That’s why she stays in her little lair all day long, drooling black goo and wondering. They say she’s special. So special, she can be anything she wants. Well, she decided she wants to be a spider. That doesn’t mean she’s a mean spider.
She just likes spiders.
She just likes spiders.
Once more we see profiled a spider who assumes a humanoid form. This particular specimen solely enjoys ranking on the live Racing Circuit. What a rush stirs in the heart when the counter sounds to initiate a race. You know in moments everyone will put the pedal to the metal, come Hell or high water. There’s no particular reason he’s a spider, aside from liking them. A common sentiment, in some circles… No one sees him in his craft. He’s a loner, dedicated to the grind. After you’ve won enough races, it does begin to tickle your fancies, the thought of playing a hardcore track. What happens to the same racers when one false move means sudden death? Do they stay just as icy?
Night Horror
Dripping with green slime, its melted mouth dissolved into black ooze, the Night Horror is a classic swamp monster, through and through. These iconic urban legends appeared as long ago as the 1940s and prior. It’s very rare, still, one finds an ability to be one. Night Horrors can both assume this guise and, unlike most mere Monsters, possess powers of one. They may seem slow at a glance, trudging over the earth, but their ability to teleport is notorious in the Prefecture. This is one of the few races of true living nightmare.
Ayo dawg. What it do? You know we out here. We been out here. We stay out here. Shit’s wylin these days. People talkin bout all kinda crazy shit. Know what I mean? Like, on that boof shit. I don’t fuck with that shit. That’s on that. What it do what it do? Skizzap in the bizzap. We stand on business. Miss me with that brainrot shit. I got my 40 that’s all I need. Gang gang. Your cousin owe me money don’t forget that. Where that boy at? He scared. I said if you’re nervous go to service. You heard me. Gang.
MASS. RAW. POWER.
Mutationmaxxing is the new meta among Night Horror tanks. This is how you throw off the opps. Max tendrils. Max eyes. Ultra flesh.
PURE HORROR. MAXIMUM MADNESS.
Mutationmaxxing is the new meta among Night Horror tanks. This is how you throw off the opps. Max tendrils. Max eyes. Ultra flesh.
PURE HORROR. MAXIMUM MADNESS.
Eye
Black robes and red eyes are the most commonly seen phenotype of the race of shades known as Eyes. Their robes appear intertwined with their phantom bodies, like silken skin an extension of themselves. This Eye has shadowy tendrils on its back. It’s surrounded by a nightmarish aura of swirling spectral skulls. Eyes are one of the few demonics most vulnerable to damage. On the same token, they can be extremely deadly.
Exhibiting the same core phenotype, the Eye above glows purple, its robe a dark red. Spider legs emerge from its back in place of tendrils or branches. These, the Arcanists understand to be ethereal illusions, with little practical difference between the mutations.
This Eye dwells in the infinite dark of the Void.
Colors aligned closer to nature than nightmare, the blue-robed Eye’s visage glows a bright yellow. Dark gnarled branches curl behind it, as deadly as tendrils or spider legs. It’s a bit strange, how unconsciously one feels less apprehensive at the sight of this Eye.
Is it something about the other colors?
Their combinations and secret meanings?
Hell Reaper
A common infernal claws at an enemy somewhere by a decrepit cottage, perhaps. Notably, its appearance strikes the eye as familiar and archetypal. It is like so many other demons seen over the centuries. Some choose this path, seeing little value in fancier physiques. It’s a character reserved for when you feel like playing something particularly generic.
There isn’t much more to it.
A green-skinned Hell Reaper moves quietly in the metallic corridors of a TDM match. Its medium build is based in tactical gear, an SMG off-weapon, and similar tools of the trade. Using its gun to lay down suppressive fire or execute killshots, it strikes viciously and casts fire from its free hand. This setup allows it to fight in close quarters combat and deal damage at range, serving a versatile role for its team.
For old time’s sake, we’ve a fellow who likes to roleplay as the Devil. It shouldn’t come as a surprise the ability to assume a demonic form attracts some of the more deviant despicables. Of course, this isn’t really the Devil… It’s just a guy who likes to pretend he is. And he’s got a strapping chin at that. Take note of the style’s points. The curved pipe, the channeled ember, the spotted bow tie. And of course, the blue monocle. What completes the outfit, however, is the striking and mandatory absence of pantaloons.
Hell Terror
Don’t be startled. If you feel like this beastly behemoth doesn’t look faceroll enough for your liking, you can always try to turn and flee. It must be stated that someone like this is simply downright abhorrent. Abominable. Deranged. Even, depraved.
Something else to bear in mind, as you peruse the profiles on this page: It can in fact rip the head off of its foes. Why wouldn’t it be able to? By what force can a monstrous terror not do such horrid things?
Is it because someone in a suit said so?
The real world doesn’t work like that…
Here we can see a Hell Terror who’s chosen a heavy humanoid build based on the form of ancient Greater Black Demons. Tall, colossal, and powerful, the triangle-eyed Terror moves slow on the battlefield, acting more as a wave-like pusher of the board’s pieces than a cutting bishop or knight. Once it does finally corner an enemy and surround it in flames, it can take a big beating, just long enough to stop the pain.
Quite the duality, the fascinating and enigmatic interplay between serenity and terror. When they splice and morph, sowing together parts of each, the unity they form affects the mind as somehow odd.
What do the masses of green tentacles mean?
The long red hair? The rustic straw hat?
They say the eyes are the window to the soul.
Well… Some windows are a little cloudy…
Psibender
Biomorph
A focused, patient frog boy moves slowly and intently across the gray hills of a Slayer Realm. He walks a Solo path, carving his legacy on the division ladder and proving he can survive where others fall.
Rank 1 is the name of the game.
Father always said he must be the best, and only the best. Anything less, and he would disgrace his family.
So he steps in a lethal trance, acting with cold precision as he exterminates every monster in sight.
Human
This fellow made the decision to send the genie getup. And he did so in flying colors. With that turban and those curly shoes, he’s a bonafide flying carpet salesman. Maybe he literally does sell flying carpets.
Who knows? He seems somewhere far-off and remote, a strange land in the sky away from it all.
Who’s to say which direction the island grows?
What trees sprout to join the daisies?
In the azure mystery amidst pink clouds, life is a dream, waking while asleep and sleeping while awake.
Alien
Okay, so. Now is where you need to pause and recognize you may not really know what’s going on here. This could be a shocking sight. What in the heck are you even looking at? Well, it’s obvious.
It’s clearly a yellow slug Alien Psibender with a flamethrower, in a black latex suit.
If you’re wondering why a Psibender has a flamethrower, ask yourself a better question:
Why not?
Why not?
Grey
We begin this section with a traditional Grey, as described in the literature. Its large cranium, black wrap-around eyes, and neutral expression are all telltale features of the race. We won’t here attempt to parse the tall ones from the small ones. We will remark on reports we’ve received indicating Greys have taken an interest in the Prefecture and its ranked divisions.
We welcome them to our world, like anyone else.
Time will tell how they fare playing our games.
A rascally little green man deviates a bit from the normal physiology. Using our patented metamorphic technology, it’s made its eyes and teeth red. It sports a red Santa Hat to match. If you’re curious, that hat is very expensive… Be sure not to lose one!
It’s mid-match in Martial Dojo, casting a psiwave at an opponent and undertaking evasive maneuvers.
Listen up, bucko. It’s not here to destroy all Humans.
It’s here to destroy everyone. If you think the striped shirt looks funny, think again.
You won’t be laughing soon.
There’s a certain clique of Greys who like to rollerblade around the halls of mansions playing accordions. This one’s got hypnotic spiral eyewear to boot, and a fancy top hat. Again: Why not?
You’ll have to guess at the tune they’re playing.
Kind of funny how you can read their mind.
Shadow Elf
Many Shadow Elves wear hooded red robes and have small glowing yellow eyes. It’s unknown why this archetype remains so prevalent. The Shadow Elf profiled floats amidst the snowy woods a few miles outside Willowtree Village. Here, combat is still possible, despite its close proximity to the Village.
It’s hard to discern a Shadow Elf’s emotions.
Some debate whether they have faces at all.
In the stars high above the Prefecture, a Shadow Elf in purple watches silently from the edge of one of the platforms comprising Elysian Outpost 9. At this outpost on the edge of space, people play cards and boardgames to pass the time, imbibing liquor and smoking pipes as they await the next challengers to enter a hardcore showdown on the central platform.
It seems obvious, if you spot a Shadow Elf lurking on the outskirts of a social gathering, their presence invokes a natural suspicion they may be a spy.
It is true, Shadow Elves are known to engage in espionage involving secret organizations and magical wars, where they listen mindfully to conversations.
It is for this reason some people deeply distrust them.
Beyond, the fertile reaches of a nascent Magic Realm invite the viewer to contemplate its future. This Magic Realm is freshly created, spawned from the Void and suspended in eternal stasis. Anything could be engineered or catalyzed within its bounds.
Over the yellow-green hills beneath the pink sky, a small village could come into being, followed by a town, and then a city. So is the magic of creation.
What do you see in the youthful grass?
Is it a new utopia of peace and community?
Is it a stage for drama and mischief?
A precursor to inevitable war?
Our Shadow Elf seems eager to find out.
Gazer
In the red mystique of a Labyrinth, a cyclopic Gazer accompanies its master in its journey. This particular Gazer has blue-gray skin common among its kind. With split tongues and dripping venom, it looks like many other Gazers , plus or minus the venom…
In its eye, there glimmers an adamant preoccupation with furtherance of its master’s agenda.
Yet, while it serves its summoner loyally, most Gazers will not sacrifice themselves to save them.
On the opposite end of the spectrum of adventure, a three-eyed Gazer joins its master’s voyage into the plum dark of Nightwood. Rather than battle only monsters, as delvers of Labyrinths do, these daredevils risk their very lives against others like them.
Gazers come quite in handy in hardcore regions like Nightwood, for those classes who can summon them.
They can see great distances, and their power for observation and consumption of magic, and ability to silence spellcasts and disrupt targets, is invaluable.
As a trade-off, they’re very vulnerable to physical attacks. If melee classes enter close range and execute an assault, they can quickly kill a Gazer. Likewise, guns, bows, and other tech can dispatch them.
It is thus wise for Gazer summoners to internalize it isn’t only their minions who protect them.
Lest one believe Gazers are all strictly business, our party animal friend shatters any old stereotypes. It parties all night long in Eternal Trance, fusing with the music and having fun no matter who crashes the club.
Some tracks make ravers feel an itch to fight, and this entranced Gazer is no stranger. On the topic of their aesthetic, we can see they’ve chosen eyes with an azure gleam and yellowish contours. Their girthy tentacles have many pale purplish suckers, and their mouth is a bit bigger than some. All of these character options exist naturally, allowing for many possible styles.
Dementor
Per archives of the Arcanists, the first Dementors mostly resembled the demonic entity above. They wore black hooded cloaks, which they appear to be physically fused into like skin. Nearly all of them display the same scarlet eyes, of varying shapes.
Likewise, their mouths, noses, and horns mutate.
Debate continues in mystical circles about the true origins and nature of Dementors, most specifically whether to classify them as true demons or a race of nightmares. Theories have been proposed, none of them verified to date.
A number of Dementors possess spider leg mutations, a trait observed in Eyes also. This Dementor wears a coat instead of a cloak. One purpose their attire can serve is to conceal dangerous mutations hidden beneath them. This Dementor has round eyes and a circular mouth. Its head is less elongated than many.
It lingers in the redwoods on Twilight Forest’s west side, near Tipsy’s Tavern. If you haven’t figured it out by now, a lot of people hang out around Tipsy’s Tavern. It’s not exactly the… safest place to be, if you step into the redwoods surrounding the tavern.
This handsome Dementor is a superb example of how characters can alter their texture. Notice how the entity’s skin and clothes contrast slightly with a number of the other characters profiled.
By altering one’s texture, one’s appearance can be further personalized beyond physique and attire.
This Dementor is in an alley of the Trader Outpost on the east end of the Wasteland. Those who travel the wastes often meet in places like these before they head out of the Outpost’s sanctuary into the dim ruins.
Assassin
Elf
Here we see a “classic” ElfAssassin, hunched in a combat-ready stance.She chooses to wield a single dagger instead of two, equipping a blaster in her off-hand.Her utility belt is specced into grenades and carries other deadly devices.Her skin color, eye color, and hair color and style are all personal.Her core style is a sleek, serious vibe – strictly business and ready to rumble at any time.
Dwarf
This Dwarf Assassin dons a tattered cloak in place of tactical gear or other armor. His gizmos may be identical to other Assassins save their appearance or may be distinct, depending on the build. His swords appear enchanted with runes. Note his specific gear and weapons confer no special physical combat powers. They are strictly cosmetic, distinguishing him from other Dwarves and Assassins. His gear has no stats, like the base gear of any other Assassin. This is simply how he looks. Interestingly, though his gear is aesthetic, it may still confer subtle edges in the field.
Gnome
A whacky tacky Gnome spurns melee weapons entirely, electing instead to dual wield energy revolvers. This is a unique non-meta build that retains some of the Gnome’s core Assassin abilities and traits while using guns that allow him to lay down suppressive fire or outrange his targets, moving quick in combat. His choice to go without daggers or other melee is not merely cosmetic – having none makes him slightly lighter, but he could still carry melee with his pistols if he wants. His outfit, though ridiculous, holds exactly the same gear status as every other Assassin’s base gear, sporting his fashionable wear whilst kicking ass and taking names. Watch out: he may seem silly and a bit crazy, but his glowing green bullets pack a punch.
Technician
Ogre
This burly badass is all out of bubblegum. He’s as liable to collect your bounty as he is to pick up the local ladies with nothing more than a suave one-liner. His choice to rock the greaser hairstyle doesn’t make his head take any less damage than a Technician who uses a standard helmet. This is because it would be a real shame if he had to hide that pretty face from the world. Those sharp goggles look like a pair of classy shades because they’re grade-A certified badassery and, sometimes, that’s all that counts.
Troll
Here we see a Technician who’s a pure psychopathic supervillain. Technicians are by no means all honorable bounty hunters who play by the rules. This mean motherfucker has that look in his eye: he’ll destroy everyone in his path for merely existing. You might wonder where he got that minigun. Well… I can’t say. You’d have to ask him, if you can. Those lopsided skull pauldrons could be deliberate, placed asymmetrically to annoy and distract you on the off chance you notice them in combat and feel some visual distaste, slipping up for the split moment it takes for a fate to be sealed.
Orc
An anonymous Tech flies through a wretched deathland, itching for a fight on some unknown quest. This one is a tricky type. You wouldn’t know just by looking at them they’re actually an Orc. Their choice to wear a helmet conceals their face, making it difficult for enemies to identify them. This particular Technician may not be interested in fighting other adventurers at all. It seems drawn to battling the undead or other monsters, perhaps for a fee, perhaps in search of something personal to their heart.
Vampire
Angel
Cool, calm, collected, his angelic demeanor shouldn’t deceive you. A sensitive type who’d be pissed off at you more for your disrespectful attitude than anything, our handsome hero has taken a trip to the gloomy and sorrowful Dusty Hills. Mindless skeletons and other ghoulish ghastlies overrun the forsaken town. Vampires are only one of the many who travel to this maroon fever dream to put an end to the undead.
Daemon
You jump in fright as a green grinning goofball who looks like mothafuckin Medusa claws up your back and goes for the kill! What are you going to do? Did you bring your A game? Will you let the coiling serpents distract you? He’s coming for your throat and he wants blood… There’s nowhere to hide in this vast red desert as flat as a corny joke. This Daemon Vampire means to end you, even if it means you both perish together, in the middle of nowhere. Fast!
Monster
It’s hard to get a read on this guy. He’s got a bit of a poker face. From the looks of it, he could be thinking about where to get a bite to eat as easily as how to get back at Tipsy for kicking him out of her bar again. Strange to think you couldn’t tell he’s a Vampire just by looking at him. He could be an Assassin, or a Demon Hunter, or a Demon himself. Tough to say. Just like the rest of the Vamps, he’s got blood on his mind and he wants more of it. Or does he? Perhaps he’s as cuddly as a teddybear, just searching for a friend.
Scoundrel
Ghoul
For the first Scoundrel, our expo falls on the perfect race. For a very long time, stories of pirates were associated with scalawags who were neither of the ordinary living nor of the dead. These necrotic inbetweeners go hand in hand with the eyepatches, bandanas, and cutlasses of sea Scoundrels.
Of course, many Scoundrels in the Prefecture have never stepped foot onto a ship. You’re more likely to find them running with crews of brigands and fiends.
Perhaps one day, they’ll set sail into the frontier.
Ghost
In the cozy comfort of home, a nightgown-clad Ghost prepares to retire for the eve. Lightning crackles above the hills in the rainy forest outside. She has one of those impossible to read faces. With eyes like that, you could never tell what’s on her mind.
Similarly, you could never tell this is a Scoundrel just by looking at it. It illustrates the obfuscation of class identity in Chaoscraft, where the same character of the same race can play multiple classes without altering its appearance in the slightest. This Ghost could log and swap classes to a Samurai or Psibender and you wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell at a glance.
Lich
A Lich in an old-fashioned gray suit waits on a desolate road of Bleakwood for a planned rendezvous. Using an eccentric scimitar, he pairs it with a small sawed-off shotgun on his hip. He’s brought two Potions with him, from one of the Potion Shops.
There is a saying in street crime for scenes like this:
Shit is about to go down.
A guy like him means business. We’re not here to play games or beat around the bush. It’s time to get down to brass tacks and put your money where your mouth is. If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. All that jazz. Did we miss one?
Shit is about to go down.
A guy like him means business. We’re not here to play games or beat around the bush. It’s time to get down to brass tacks and put your money where your mouth is. If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. All that jazz. Did we miss one?
Ranger
Biomorph
A traditional medieval Ranger poses hunched on a high cliffside, watching and waiting. Rangers understand it’s not about how many arrows you let loose at your targets. It’s about firing one at the perfect time, when it both deals damage and creates an opportunity to close in for the kill. Is he hunting baddies out in the wild? Or is he a big bad wolf himself? You’d have to ask him, as always.
Alien
A Trooper blasts away at anonymous enemies in the heated mid game of a Battle Royale. The Nightmare closes in fast, threatening to devour all who stray too long in its mephitic plum bounds. Who will come out on top this match? There’s an Alien under that helmet. If it doesn’t feel like it, it may never take it off. It could be mistaken for a Tech, in any case. Though Techs specialize in blasters, whereas Troopers hone their skills in use of rifles, whether conventional or energy platforms like the plasma rifle seen here.
Elf
She’s a little too mischievous. Sometimes, you look a girl like her in the eyes and know, deep down in your heart, she’s a kind of crazy that can’t be fixed. I was in an illusion when we spoke by the pondside, planning our next move on this happenstance encounter. She liked me and wanted to find a little action. I could tell the way she was holding those crossbows she’d fired them at angels and demons alike. Is she just in it for the thrill of it? Is there some agenda beyond pure mayhem? I didn’t stick around to find out.
Trickster
Biomorph
Miles out in the Endville desert, where cacti signal the entry to nomansland and tumbleweeds set the mood, a fast-as-lightning weasel Trickster flings a deadly card in an attempt to spec its enemy and seal the deal.
A few points, first, about him.
For one, the vest is an absolute must for the look.
It completes the character, giving him that special sauce that lets you know he’s here to throw down.
From his ear dangle two silver chains attached to dark emerald crystal crescents, a rather unusual selection.
As for the scene, this exact moment marks the cinematic instant in time when a Trickster casts one of the two lethalest cards from its deck.
It is here skill and chance collide, and both souls behold the roll of the dice. Will the card connect?
Will it miss? Who lives? Who dies?
What separates this epic showdown from games you’re accustomed to is that, in Endville, death is real.
One slip, and that card means game over.
Human
Outside Eternal Trance, a young lady who looks a little too sexy gazes coldly over her shoulder, flashing a joker and sending a not so cryptic message.
Some fools think a girl like her is asking for it.
In reality, she’s only giving the swift slice of an ace through your skin, cutting you to flimsy pieces.
If her skirt flusters you, you should take it up with her.
It turns out, some chicks like to look and feel sexy.
Who are we to stop them?
Who are we to stop them?
Alien
It’s 2 AM, and our dashing heroine is prepping for another Arena match. 1v1 is a big favorite among players who like a bit of casual mano a mano.
Who is on the other side, in the enemy prep room?
Is it someone she’s faced before? A rival?
Is it someone new?
It’s a Mystery Map, her opponent’s class veiled like her own, the Arena’s terrain a secret for 30 seconds.
If you take the time to appreciate how much thought she’s put into her look, don’t overlook the crocodile.
Astral Wizard
Ghoul
A mysterious Ghoul Wizard walks alone across a far-off dimension. Its cobra isn’t a mere pet. It’s one of the exotic species the Ghoul found in its hardcore travels, or traded for with something of equal value. It can only be summoned in such regions, and, like its master, has only one life. Those glowing eyes have seen much in this world. It isn’t fazed easily. You’d have to show it something worth seeing.
Ghost
There is something familiar in the figure’s complexion, like you’ve seen him or someone like him before. Carrying a wand, it nonetheless remains a mystery if he’s ever slain anyone. It could be a monk who’ll never lift a finger to fight you, or it could be one who’ll do everything in its power to destroy you if you do. It’s difficult to tell if the emotion in his eyes is sadness, or a feeling like inner, private, enraptured awe.
Lich
A treasure-hunting Lich ventures ahead of its party in the lower levels of a twisted Labyrinth. It may appear to be smiling at first look. This is how some Lich’s visages stay fixed – permanently smiling or frowning. In reality, the same fear you’ve felt at times courses intensely through its bones, guiding it yet recoiling it from the mysteries it seeks deeper in the dungeon.
Chaos Witch
Fairy
He’s a wild one, zipping and zapping his way up the Arena ladder. He looks so intense and intent because he’s about to blast an opponent to kingdom come. In the background you can note the Mystery Map he’s been transported to for this match. A decrepit fetid wasteland floating in the abyss, if he or his enemy aren’t careful, they could go falling off the edges. He happens to like his hat oddly shaped like that. Or maybe he’s just zany and forgot to give it one point.
Droid
There comes a point you feel forced to draw conclusions about a stranger by their appearance alone, despite the old saying about books and covers. Mr. Droid here could be a travelling magician, putting on a magic show for the local youth. It may be he can’t make his face show any emotion. He is a machine after all. Do they feel anything?
Goblin
Ah… Your hometown local gambling fiend. I’ve seen my fair share of these before. You can see in his beady little eyes he’s fixated – yes fixated on where the bets are being placed. Gamblers are all a bit superstitious. Maybe that’s why he wears the ring. What an odd little wand he’s got. Maybe he uses it to place his bets. Do you think he’s up or down on the house? Is he here to play? Or feel something he can’t feel anymore? He’s awfully alone at the casino, chasing a big win late at night. When’s the last time you think he slept?
Spheromancer
Angel
A man in a sombrero walks a remote desert alone. In his ghostly white eyes, an intimation of a sight that sees for a thousand years. What beauty there is in the familiar simplicity of tradition. To some, there is no desire for anything but what has long been known.
What does the halo mean? A savior of souls?
A collector of them?
You decide.
On a strategic scale, what matters most is that, until you see an orb, it’s impossible to tell he’s a Sphero.
Daemon
A blinding blizzard surrounds a yellow fiend, who channels an orb of shadow as dark as its eyes.
There are times in life you can tell someone is truly sadistic, and feels no reservation about ending you.
Why is this? A riddle for all the ages…
Just another reason to be cautious about entering the white veil of snowstorms. You never know who or what you’ll encounter in the frozen expanse.
Monster
Kooky, a bit cranky, and more than a touch zany, the pale ghoulish Monster wears a whacky spiral of licorice, wielding in its grasp a sphere of pure frost.
It’s another perfect illustration of how race, class, build, and style intersect, forming the basis of identity.
At a glance, you would think you could tell what the message being sent is. Upon closer examination, it doesn’t seem that clear, if there is a message at all…
Necromancer
Elf
Here we see a gray Elf dressed for battle. Their selection of gear is aligned to traditional Necromancer battlemages who wore metallic armor. Their simple staff and shield, circular shades, and ponytail create an impression of a warrior wizard seeking a challenge.
Their expression is so lifelike, it is probable their character’s face is spliced from their own.
This can be done in live time, echoing present emotions and personal flourishes.
Dwarf
This witchy Dwarf Necro dons the opposite gear. Dressed in a pointy wide-brimmed hat, a tattered dark blue robe, and orange pigtails, she’s using a Deathblade in place of a Necroscepter.
Her build specializes in a mix of melee and magic, casting spells in one hand when free and gripping a runed axe in two hands to execute potent strikes.
She’s doing battle in the red gloom of a Slayer Realm, braving the hardcore horrors of the realm’s reaches.
Gnome
One of the most unique characters shown here, the indigenous Gnome smiling above moves surrounded by a spiraling twister. This exotic aura is not a baseline cosmetic, but a rare find. Her skull spells she chooses to color pink like the magic in her eyes and hair.
She joins her friend in a Duo Slayer run, using a build based solely in dual-hand sorcery – no weapons.
Druid
The tiger Druid seen is one of the simplest characters in the entire page. It’s a straight-up tiger in a gi. Nothing more. Nothing less.
At face value, it could be a Druid or an Adept.
Druids and Adepts exist on a parallel path.
Biomorph Adept can also be tigers.
Druids differ in that they have the skills of a tiger, if specialized in the school. They move and strike quickly like one, acting with animalistic vigor and precision.
If this Druid seems ‘plain’, it is because it chooses a path of simplicity, being itself and only itself.
Mystical magics swirl and mingle between its grasp. Green liquid eyes speak of a fathomless sorrow most souls seem unable or unwilling to feel.
It is as equally possible it’s seen a lifetime of disease and death as it is it’s chosen to only see bliss.
That not everyone wants to fight is a reality it can be easy to forget, in this world so riddled with it…
A burly bear sports a medieval tunic and golden wristwatch. He seems to be making a point in conversation. “Actually…” he might say,
“Not all bears want to fight either.”
No. That isn’t it.
“Actually, I could kick your ass with ease.”
Is that it?
Nightmare Mage
Fairy
Nightmare Mages tend to be some of the most extravagant personalities. Our dark Fairy queen is no exception. Her armor fits sleekly on her petite curves. She wears a hairpick in her icy bun, a black sun pierced into her ear. Plum mist stirs in her staff’s orb, a nod to the plum magic of nightmare. And her wings…
If you’re curious, not every Fairy can look like that…
Droid
Okay, so, before you have another fit over this supremely sexy Droid looking like AI, remember she doesn’t give a fuck what you think and will kill you.
She’s got that post-post-postmodern tinman girl vibe, rocking the look like nobody’s business. In one hand, a blaster pistol ready to pop a cap in some fools.
In the other, raw nightmare lusting for souls.
Is there something about her that off-puts you?
Is she cringe?
Why don’t you see if you can last longer than five sec?
Goblin
Last but certainly not least, the most extra character of them all. She’s full sent the entire getup: purple-trimmed futuristic armor, a red smoking eye, a blue scanner, a black-and-red spiked mace, and a marvelous butterfly tattoo. You’ll just have to wait and see if the pink bunny ring does anything but look cute.
Oh, and those skulls in the green mist are choice as well. Why wouldn’t you be able to customize spells?
Is it all that hard to make them different colors?
Her whole vibe is, as youth today say, slightly “out of pocket”. She’s here to have fun, with or without you.
I’ve travelled a long, strange road to show you this. If you’ve read this short story to the end, you deserve to know a bit more of the truth. First, a question I like to ask, to gauge familiarity.
Do you know what that is?
I was first shown one by a cold-blooded killer. Someone whose name has gotten lost in the ever-shifting archives of time like mine. I’ll never forget what he told me, speaking from the grave across the rainbow labyrinths of our melting worlds.
If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it is that, even if, in your heart, you know what I’ve shown you can one day soon come to pass, there is a dark part of your soul that whispers this must all be too fantastical to be true. Is there any feeling in you that distrusts me? Feels I am a con artist?
I want you to know one thing about me.
So listen closely.
I love what I do.
Every time a novel invention eclipses the horizon, revealing itself like a royal flush you never saw coming, one has to do a double take to ensure one sees clearly. Perhaps rub your eyes and blink once or twice. It’s no illusion.
Technology is, like us, a form of magic. By harnessing light, shadow, and color within complex stunning interfaces, it mirrors and morphs life itself, creating infinite forms in an infinite vista of chaos.
We possess the capability to foster the genesis of beings who look exactly like those you see showcased in this story. What is a trickier question than this is how they can be balanced among each other while preserving freeform physique and build fluidity, weighing the desire for uniqueness against the ideal of a fair competitive playing field.
There is something else I want you to know about me. I am willing to experiment no matter the problems, paradoxes, and intricacies involved.
If it seems absurdly complex to balance an expansive selection of classes who each choose their own custom body types, spec builds, and weapons, this is because it is, and also because, paradoxically, it’s not that hard at all.
Why is this?
We take a simplified approach to the creation of an initial experimental testing ground. Here, we hope to see very simplified versions of the races and classes given a space to test abilities, traits, and contrasts in a way that allows us to identify strengths and weaknesses early and so evolve.
At some point, as a creator of any game, you also have to decide on one singular fundamental axiom:
There is no sense in giving a damn.
If it’s all fucked beyond belief, so be it. I couldn’t care less. We’ll of course invest our noblest effort to find the perfect balance, as we already have. If, for whatever reason, the final game one day in the far future proves so magnificently mad it cannot be made much sense of, well, guess what…
What does that remind you of?
So as you contemplate the mystical object I show you, reflecting on what it means to you and whether I’m the first one to reveal it to your eyes, see within and feel there are no limits on the potentials offered by the illusions of technology.
It’s sort of like poker. Eventually, when you’re feeling a little lucky, you cast all your chips in the middle and let the cards fall where they may.
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