Some interesting tidbits in the blog over the past few days. First of all, the "epithets" are still in, though they have been renamed to "history feats." Two are shown in the screenshot - Arrogant Bastard and Porcelain Mask. For more information on this feature, please check the Gameplay section of the Old Jefferson FAQ (until I get around to updating the new FAQ).
Next, archerider's response to seeing the character ("Get out of town, black badger.") and conversation with the elf merchant confirms that the protagonist's race will influence dialogs - both ways. Hopefully, the effect will be more than cosmetic.
Furthermore, it seems that Josh will stand by the original design to have the passage of time affect the game (...Salea of Elventree, a seasonal merchant who appears in Market Square from time to time...). I am pleasantly surprised to learn that this feature is still in; it's a minor feature, but ultimately adds a lot to the verisimilitude of the game setting.
New screenies (click for larger pics):
Sammael, January 15, 2009
Hell is definitely freezing over. I'm about 30% done with my d20 system revision ("D&D 3.75") which I started about three years ago, and Sawyer has resumed work on TBH. He even has a development blog set up on the official website.
Oh, and here's the development environment (click for larger pic):
Sammael, January 11, 2009
GameBanshee has published a Black Hound interview with J.E. Sawyer. Relevant bits and pieces of information from the interview will be added to the FAQ as time permits.
If you visit the Images section, you'll see links to three Project: Jefferson Picasa galleries. This should work considerably better than my attempts to make a gallery in Google Page Creator.
There are a few more snippets of info in the FAQ proper, and I will continue to add to it as time permits.
Sammael, January 17, 2007
P.S. Here's a little blast from the past which you may have forgotten about:
The field was an old one, as far as Dalesmen
were concerned. It had seen blood and fire and wheat all in equal parts,
blessed by Lathander, damned by Bane, trod by men and women for centuries.
Under sun and empty sky alike, it had been host to celebrations of marriage and
witness to interment. It gave the comfort of tangibility to common people at
odds with the ephemeral nature of the world around them.
The men and women filed in from the foggy
woods, their shoulders and feet heavy from hunting for so many days. Their
cloaks were heavy from the rabbits and fowl carried within. Like parents with
children in swaddling clothes, they approached the stream at the base of the
rain-soaked valley, a tributary of the River Arkhen. Despite their bountiful
harvest, the hunters were quiet and uneasy; they had failed to capture the
desired quarry. Their conversation came in whispers and murmurs, barely covered
by the flowing water.
The mistress of the hunt was the last to leave
the woods. Her steps were labored, and her hot breath streamed between the
slits of her helmet like a cooling kettle on a dying fire. Her hips throbbed
from the weight of the black and purple plate skirt and the mud caked on her
shins and feet. She was used to the pain, but the night's labor had yielded no
bounty. Beneath her helm, sweat mingled with trickling tears on her face. She
winced as she made her way down the incline, her ankles burning at the grade.
For a moment, she relaxed, and her right foot gave out underneath her.
Bandits down the hill turned in shock as they
saw the side of her armored head slap against the muddy ground. Her arbalest
flew from her hands and slid down the hill into the stream. A few bandits,
Cormyrean expatriates, moved to help her. The Dalesmen knew better, and
extended arms and cautionary glances. The armored woman lay still on the
ground. After many long moments, she sighed deeply, placed her hands next to
her chest, and pushed herself up. The bandits around her continued to look on
with uncertainty. One of the older Dalesmen hopped to the edge of the river and
plucked the arbalest from the water. He purposefully strode up the hillside and
held the weapon out towards the woman.
"Thank you, Alden." She held out her
gauntleted hand and touched the smiling man's bearded face. He nodded, and she
grimaced slightly at the sight of the mud from her hand seeping into the happy
wrinkles around his blue eyes. She pulled her hand back. Alden reached up and
touched the mud. He smiled again, more broadly.
"Oh, it's fine, May. Just a little
mud." He continued to hold out the crossbow. May hesitated for a moment
before taking it. The rest of the bandits looked on with suspicion. May could
feel their scrutiny bearing down on her. She turned her head towards the
bandits and pulled her helm off in a few quick movements. As she lifted it
clear of her face, she assumed an appropriately dreadful demeanor.
"Get down to the river and start some
fires," she snapped. She looked each of the curious men and women in the
eyes in turn until they broke away and ambled towards the water. May's face was
matted with damp blonde hair and had the stern countenance of an angry mother,
a look many of them had only known from her. May nodded at Alden to go with
them. His smile weakened, and he walked away. May stood on the hillside with
the black and purple enameled helm in her hands. The moonlight illuminated its
interior, even through the fog. Her asters were still inside, but crushed and
damp with sweat. Then the voice came, softly, behind her.
"Don't worry, May. I will pick you some
fresh ones soon." May shivered as she felt his presence chill her flesh.
"It will not be long 'till..." May bit her lower lip and closed her
eyes to hold back tears as she saw the aster blossoms rapidly dry and wither.
"Brien, I don't know if I can do this.
They're getting suspicious. They don't know why I'm not mending their wounds
any more, or why I haven't gone north in so long. It's too hard." May felt
the chill intensify until the pain in her hips went numb.
"I need you, May. It is still out
there." The voice lowered to a nervous whisper. "If you don't kill
it... "
May clenched her jaw with resolve, then relaxed. She stood in numbed ecstasy on the hillside for a few moments longer, resting in Brien's presence. A distant howl echoed through the valley. May's head whipped around, towards the moon. Some bandits bolted to their feet. Others sighed and slumped forward. May threw her helm down the hill and grabbed her crossbow with both hands. She pointed at the campfire nearest her. All leisure was gone from her expression, all stiffness burned from her limbs.
"You! Grab your crossbows. There is much to do."
There is an ongoing thread about The Black Hound over at Obsidian Forums. If you have any questions about TBH, feel free to post them over there. I'll add all Josh's answers from that thread to this FAQ... eventually.
Sammael, January 16, 2007
Hello. Some of you may remember me as the creator of the original Project: Jefferson FAQ, way back when Interplay was still around (psssst... Herve... it's dead, Jim). Anyway, you may or may not be aware that Project Jefferson, AKA "The Black Hound," is not dead. There may be no more Interplay or Black Isle, but its lead designer, Josh (J.E.) Sawyer is determined to use the brand-new Neverwinter Nights 2 toolset to re-create the ill-fated game.
The current time estimate for this module to be completed is "a year or two," which seems ambitious considering the game's scope. However, you have to remember a couple of things:
(1) Josh was the lead designer for TBH, and he still has access to all his design documents.
(2) As far as I know, most of the dialogues for the original game were finished before the project was canceled.
(3) The NWN2 toolset is, I believe, considerably easier to work with than the original Jefferson toolset.
(4) NWN2 has plenty of pre-made content, and a lot more is bound to appear on fan sites over the next year - stuff that Josh can more or less easily import into TBH.
(5) There may be some nice people over at Obsidian willing to help him as time permits.
Just to remind you, this is in no way an official product. It will not be published by Obsidian and/or Atari, nor licensed by Wizards of the Coast. Thank goodness for that.
Sammael, January 9, 2007
