Haven is an in-development crafting/survival game where the player must survive with scarce resources and unravel the mystery of the desolated world. I was brought on to handle the Narrative Direction and overall Lore of the game.

Itch page: https://project-haven.itch.io/project-haven

INTRO

This land has changed. Once, there were vibrant kingdoms teeming with life. There was a time when the people danced in harmony, when monarchs brought order and community, and when people could live without fear. 

But darkness, as inevitable as the setting sun, began to seep into the cracks of our once-glorious realm. For you see, this darkness was not natural. Magik had long since been banned throughout the realm. But an arrogant princeling took it upon himself to dabble in the arcane arts of old. By his wicked hand a cataclysmic event fractured the kingdom, unleashing chaos and despair upon the unsuspecting peoples. Dark tendrils wove their way through the lands, corrupting not only the earth, but the minds and souls of those afflicted. The delicate balance between light and shadow was shattered, plunging our world into an era of peril and uncertainty. The Withering was made.

Yet, amidst the chaos, there remains a glimmer of hope. My sisters and I created these caches across the realm in hopes to aid those courageous enough to defy the encroaching darkness. The Withering destroyed our communities, our homes and our people. What’s left is a wild, untamed land grown from within the skeleton of once-proud nations. But our survival is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Use the tools we have left you here, learn from us how to sustain yourself and survive. The world around you is treacherous but here, where the echoes of the past beckon you forth into a future yet unwritten, you will have a Haven.

Sister Allora, Church of Khitera

A collection of journal entries discoverable to the player throughout the world of Haven.

Journal entry 56

Fifty Six days into our journey and only half of us remain. Maybe Jorren was right about attempting this trek during the winter. Could we have waited for spring? Would our reserves have lasted? Did I lead us to oblivion?

It is still a thirty day voyage to reach a Haven we don’t even know exists. I have risked all of our lives based on stories and traveler tails. Maybe Jorren was right. 

Journal Entry 59

They don’t trust me anymore. The last 10 days have been taxing on everyone and I feel that they blame me for our losses. Jorren breeds descent among them. He turns them against me, whispering cruelty in their ears and spreading lies like a plague. It is only with great luck that he has not seen the rot spreading through my arm.

I have it under control. After we reach the Haven I will seek out a healer. It is said that the Khitera Druids have healers that can cure almost any ailment. We’ll all be fine once we reach the Haven.

Journal Entry 57

Fifty-nine days into our journey, our scouting party returns. Lerianna and Kel spoke of a dark cloud of rot that blocks our path. According to them, it spans leagues and will be unpassable. They whisper of the Wither. I told them to quiet their gossip before it spreads through our caravan like the very darkness they fear.

Tomorrow, I will travel ahead with Lerianna and see this rot myself. It can’t be as bad as they say. Can it?

Journal Entry 61

Jorren confronted me this morning. In public! His challenge for leadership won’t be far behind. He is jealous of my strength and my ability to lead our people. He sees my fever and wants to take advantage, but I won’t allow it. We’re almost through the mountains. Once we make it through, everyone will see how great a leader I am and I will cast Jorren out for his cowardice. Banishment is almost too kind a punishment for him. Too kind.

Journal Entry 65

Jorren’s whispering has finally stopped. It turned to screams but those too have stopped. Everyone has grown silent and still. Some cursed me before, some were already still. Frozen. Mary said I led them to oblivion. Maybe Jorren was right.

I can feel the Withering burning through me. Like molten iron running through a cast. Blackness has already spread from my frozen legs, anchoring me here on the crest of the mountain. I think I can see the Haven from here.

Journal Entry 58

Lerianna is dead. The cliff overlooking the dark cloud of rotten world below collapsed and she fell. She clung to an outcropping, surrounded by a purple smokescreen of putrid air. I leaned over the edge to pull her back up. I grabbed her hand and hoisted… I held her hand in mine as she looked up at me. I saw dark brown tendrils crawling up her face. Her eyes looked up at me with one last glimmer of hope before being taken over by blackness. I was afraid. My hand acted on its own, pulling away from the horror she had become. I think the sounds of her scream, fading into darkness will haunt me to the end of my days.
I stumbled back to camp in a daze. Now, all that remains of Lerianna are the shallow cuts on my forearms where she clawed at me in desperation. I will return to the caravan tomorrow and share the news with her husband. We cannot pass through the mountains this way. The Withering is here too.

Journal Entry 62

Jorren must be killed. He has grown too dangerous. His venomous words spread faster than my own malady. He needs to be killed.

Journal Entry 64

Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren. Jorren.