Guns Of Icarus Online
Main => General Discussion => Topic started by: The Mann on June 21, 2015, 05:14:34 am
-
Hello.
I am planning a special audio project. An orchestration based on the landscape of the Guns Of Icarus world. it will be called "Around the World"
It will be based on the following maps.
The Dunes (desert scrap,),
Paritan (Labyrinth),
Flayed Hills (Red Sepulcher),
Canyon (Canyon Ambush),
Firnfield (fight over firnfeld, Anglian Raiders),
Northern Fjords,
and
Refinery. (These are the general maps. if I missed any let me know...)
On this thread, I would like to discuss the feeling of these maps for example,
Paritan - dark, daunting and full of suspense.
I would like to take these ideas into consideration when I begin this audio project.
Also, give me ideas for style... what sort of orchestration would suit certain areas...
Paritan - a piano perhaps... high notes to give an eerie suspense...
This will be a community project in collaboration with fellow Bard, Brave Buccaneer Tavi who is kind enough to create a video for the project. A Brave Buccaneer Tavi's Adventures Movie 2.
-
Adding more information for my part of the project:
- I will be doing the same kind of video as the " guns of icarus MV " I made, but this time I will try to use After Effect to make a really cool editing :)
- It will be the first time that i will be using a software like After Effect but i will do my best to make it look nice and not over-edit ^^
- If any of you are willing to help me recreate a scene that i would like to make ( Like for exemple having 4 ships following each other to write on their baloons and things like that would be cool, but i would then need 4 players to pilot the ships while i record ) send me a message on my forum inbox with your IG name and i'll contact you when i will need your help :)
-
You forgot the best map ever - Fjords.
-
I Knew I was forgetting one!
Mods, any chance you can edit my post to include Fjords as a map?
-
Tavi da best <3 If you all haven't seen his latest "guns of icarus funny moments" video, I absolutely recommend that you do - see it HERE! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vly7M2B8AFo)
Fair warning, it got me in it.
-
The Dunes (desert scrap,)
Scrap is a running map, the greatest moment when you spectate the other team rushing along side yours for the point. During this relatively calm time, the crew is busy preparing the ship for the upcoming fight.
Just like the Race Camel to Hamunapra (https://youtu.be/6gxLQNAzqhY?t=44s)
-
That sounds like a nice project.
If you are doing Refinery you may want to do some industrial or even baroque style of music, if it fits.
The feeling for the map that I can imagine is something what I imagine is similar to miners or people that work on an oil platform: Emotionless, some health issues like possible back pain and the occasional cough and the sad feeling that comes from the constant rain and lack of light.
For Fight over Firnfeld/Anglean Raiders I imagine a winter- or viking-like music.
This map is often visited by traders and raiders. When a fight happens the people that live there hide in their huts, so for the feeling there should be some fear involved. Obviously it is also cold and, I would imagine, rather calm when no battle is happening.
I wish you luck and with your and Tavi's projects!
-
Thank you for the suggestions so far! :D
-
I Knew I was forgetting one!
Mods, any chance you can edit my post to include Fjords as a map?
I'm not a mod, but there you go.
-
I Knew I was forgetting one!
Mods, any chance you can edit my post to include Fjords as a map?
I'm not a mod, but there you go.
Thanks! :D
-
Something suspenseful, for canyons. The feel of hunting, or being hunted. Not knowing when or where they may appear.
For fjords, something similar to Lord of the Rings battle music would be cool. Lots of brass instruments blasting and all that.
Refinery definitely needs some industrial, maybe some grunge.
-
Not about maps, just hinting a good (GREAT) steampunk OST:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftvpi-6Z6qw&index=1&list=PL4C7FCA03A20214A4 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftvpi-6Z6qw&index=1&list=PL4C7FCA03A20214A4)
Might be a little inspiration for you. ^^
Tulla:
It's a mage university, located in the desert of Vendigroth Wastes
Tarant:
Greatest industrial (and biggest of all) city in Arcanum.
-
Also, what about Duel at Dawn?
-
*facepalm*...
-
Paritan, the ghost city.. With large buildings peaking higher than the poisonous fog which plagues the once great city.. Though respirators can make the air breathable, the only pilots who travel here are pilgrims following the footsteps of the legendary Gabriel, or scavengers after lost treasures of the old world.. And these pilots and crews are either very brave and daring.. Or just downright stupid as they race around the urban jungle.
-
I'm someone who experiences a lot of music visually, so I struggle to pair the kind of instruments needed to show a particular map, but I can perhaps contribute a descriptive wall of text about the emotion/sensory input of someone piloting a real life Red Sepulchre?
If I give a wall of text then perhaps give pointers on the kind of music I think would work for different parts, would that be applicable?
-
I'm someone who experiences a lot of music visually, so I struggle to pair the kind of instruments needed to show a particular map, but I can perhaps contribute a descriptive wall of text about the emotion/sensory input of someone piloting a real life Red Sepulchre?
If I give a wall of text then perhaps give pointers on the kind of music I think would work for different parts, would that be applicable?
Yes, tell me how you feel when on maps! That helps me alot! :D
-
Warning, this will be a huge wall of text. I'm pretty bad at being concise with these things...
-
Warning, this will be a huge wall of text. I'm pretty bad at being concise with these things...
But we want a wall of text!
-
Sadly it can't literally be "Around the World" as we are lacking Arashi and Guild maps. Also Chaladon if you don't consider Black Channel part of Chaladon. I do wish we had maps for each area.
-
Sadly it can't literally be "Around the World" as we are lacking Arashi and Guild maps. Also Chaladon if you don't consider Black Channel part of Chaladon. I do wish we had maps for each area.
yeah :-\
-
This is winding up to be stupidly long, even though there are no characters or narrative. I'll post the first part here, then finalise the second to make sure I capture how I felt, experiencing Red Sepulchre for the first time (with a little dramatic embellishment, of course ;)).
TW: I am not the best writer.
The infinite mesas and plateaus that pepper the landscape of the Red Sepulchre with an alien visage sit beneath your fleet as, with one hand grasped tightly at the helm, you thumb some of the dirt from your goggles, surveying what lies before you.
Possibly a misnomer, that a land so devoid of life would be colloquially known as The Womb or Teat, you ponder, sparing a brief and somewhat bittersweet thought towards the family that raised you. And yet, would it not be fitting that the rich ore seams that nurture the ships that bring death to innumerable sailors rest in a place that so readily brings images of aridity and decay?
Perhaps such philosophies are left to the thinkers of this generation. You were never much of a poet anyway. Such daydreaming has always exacerbated the already stressful life of the unaligned pilots.
The tension in the crew is palpable. Scouting squids had reported that you were not alone amongst the haphazardly formed cliff faces, but had little to no information other than that. That lack of detail came from a need for hasty retreat upon contact. Whoever lies in wait beyond the spiralling dust ahead is shifting an entire arsenal of dangerous weaponry on each deck, primed to hurl projectiles larger than your torso deep into the guts of your humble craft.
The hiss of steam and rhythmic inhale and exhale from the balloon’s pump provides a quiet, consistent background noise that enables such misplaced musings. As many would say:
“It’s quiet… Too quiet.”
You shake the mental imagery of your own, disintegrating ship from your head as you hear the thunderous engines of your friendly galleon cough several dregs of dust before firing up, the awesome heavy machinery signalling ignition to all allied ships. With a thumbs up from the engineers, you follow suit.
A steady advance; that was the plan. You squint through the near-translucent lenses over your eyes as you ease the throttle forwards, gripping the wheel tighter as if your finger strength could steady the behemoth beneath your feet.
Vibrations from the engines shaking in their mountings pulse in intensity while the pistons find their stride, eventually resting on that familiar rattle as the crew take post and the ship begins a cautious route ahead.
The dust cloud ahead must measure kilometres high and lord knows how far across. With the warm air hampering your lift and the surrounding cliffs blocking any form of flanking manoeuvre, the crawling line of ships is faced with but one option; a blind foray through the amorphous giant that sits between you and the enemy. Risky, but should the wind favour your approach, undetectable through the haze and dominating sound of shifting sands.
Upon teasing the border between open skies and dusty miasma, the deep growl of the nearby galleon recedes to make way for the sand’s constant hum as it enshrouds your ship, the tinny tink-tink-tink of your engines as they spit out the offending particles miraculously finding its way to your ears as well.
You are blind; deaf, blind and, as far as the other airships braving the cloud, mute as well. A stolen glance to either side reveals nothing but a wall of dancing brown and orange, no trace of the titanic craft that cast you in shadow, only a hundred metres to port. In fact, you can hardly see the engineers pass but a few feet away from you, tending to the spluttering engines, let alone see the brash gunner, who jealously guards his weaponry from the invasive airborne sediments furthest ahead.
At the heart of the cloud, only the most ambitious rays of light infiltrate the myriad above, and even those can barely provide but the faintest online to the helm but a few inches from your face. In this deep, even thousands of tonnes’ worth of flying sand creates only a background rumble. Every other sense is wired, and you battle your beating heart while checking the throttle; still angled forwards. You have to focus past the whirling dust, but you can make out the sound of relatively healthy propellers.
You should be moving forwards, but this deep, it is virtually impossible to tell will direction you are headed and how fast. It’s almost as if you are stationary in still winds, a strange, noise-filled silence. The silhouette of the gunner perches behind his field gun warily, shouting back the occasional “Clear!”
His voice is garbled by the threatening growl of the cloud, but by the way his shape keeps switching between scope and the naked eye, his itchy trigger finger may as well be shown as a glowing beacon above his head. Turning your head to the side, you see the engineers carefully monitoring the engines for any clogging damage. Yet, even in their stoic vigilance, they cannot help but peer over the guard railings into the swirling not-so-emptiness below. Even yourself, who has sailed out of range of a hostile galleon on broadside with only one working engine, who found their ship pinned to a mountainside skewered at the point of a pyramidion that you were certain was piloted by a captain that knew not a ship could be put in reverse, you who had done little more than grit your teeth in determination through all that, share the anxiety of your comrades. Regardless of the futility of it, you feel compelled to utter “Steady…” to the nervous deckhands around you.
The ship trudges on. Once or twice you think you may have seen the other ships in your fleet, but these ghosts do not hold their form as the dust dances. However, little by little, you see more of those ambitious sunrays piercing the looming ceiling above and get a feel for the engines as the strain lessens on their workings. The other side of the cloud is near, which could bring about anything. In a raspy voice, through a throat shredded by the dry air of the Womb, you call the crew to sentry positions and reposition your hands on the helm, eyes in hawk-like focus at the lightening dust ahead.
Should I bother with the next part? Sorry, if it's bad.
-
*Votes for another part!*
-
This is winding up to be stupidly long, even though there are no characters or narrative. I'll post the first part here, then finalise the second to make sure I capture how I felt, experiencing Red Sepulchre for the first time (with a little dramatic embellishment, of course ;)).
TW: I am not the best writer.
The infinite mesas and plateaus that pepper the landscape of the Red Sepulchre with an alien visage sit beneath your fleet as, with one hand grasped tightly at the helm, you thumb some of the dirt from your goggles, surveying what lies before you.
Possibly a misnomer, that a land so devoid of life would be colloquially known as The Womb or Teat, you ponder, sparing a brief and somewhat bittersweet thought towards the family that raised you. And yet, would it not be fitting that the rich ore seams that nurture the ships that bring death to innumerable sailors rest in a place that so readily brings images of aridity and decay?
Perhaps such philosophies are left to the thinkers of this generation. You were never much of a poet anyway. Such daydreaming has always exacerbated the already stressful life of the unaligned pilots.
The tension in the crew is palpable. Scouting squids had reported that you were not alone amongst the haphazardly formed cliff faces, but had little to no information other than that. That lack of detail came from a need for hasty retreat upon contact. Whoever lies in wait beyond the spiralling dust ahead is shifting an entire arsenal of dangerous weaponry on each deck, primed to hurl projectiles larger than your torso deep into the guts of your humble craft.
The hiss of steam and rhythmic inhale and exhale from the balloon’s pump provides a quiet, consistent background noise that enables such misplaced musings. As many would say:
“It’s quiet… Too quiet.”
You shake the mental imagery of your own, disintegrating ship from your head as you hear the thunderous engines of your friendly galleon cough several dregs of dust before firing up, the awesome heavy machinery signalling ignition to all allied ships. With a thumbs up from the engineers, you follow suit.
A steady advance; that was the plan. You squint through the near-translucent lenses over your eyes as you ease the throttle forwards, gripping the wheel tighter as if your finger strength could steady the behemoth beneath your feet.
Vibrations from the engines shaking in their mountings pulse in intensity while the pistons find their stride, eventually resting on that familiar rattle as the crew take post and the ship begins a cautious route ahead.
The dust cloud ahead must measure kilometres high and lord knows how far across. With the warm air hampering your lift and the surrounding cliffs blocking any form of flanking manoeuvre, the crawling line of ships is faced with but one option; a blind foray through the amorphous giant that sits between you and the enemy. Risky, but should the wind favour your approach, undetectable through the haze and dominating sound of shifting sands.
Upon teasing the border between open skies and dusty miasma, the deep growl of the nearby galleon recedes to make way for the sand’s constant hum as it enshrouds your ship, the tinny tink-tink-tink of your engines as they spit out the offending particles miraculously finding its way to your ears as well.
You are blind; deaf, blind and, as far as the other airships braving the cloud, mute as well. A stolen glance to either side reveals nothing but a wall of dancing brown and orange, no trace of the titanic craft that cast you in shadow, only a hundred metres to port. In fact, you can hardly see the engineers pass but a few feet away from you, tending to the spluttering engines, let alone see the brash gunner, who jealously guards his weaponry from the invasive airborne sediments furthest ahead.
At the heart of the cloud, only the most ambitious rays of light infiltrate the myriad above, and even those can barely provide but the faintest online to the helm but a few inches from your face. In this deep, even thousands of tonnes’ worth of flying sand creates only a background rumble. Every other sense is wired, and you battle your beating heart while checking the throttle; still angled forwards. You have to focus past the whirling dust, but you can make out the sound of relatively healthy propellers.
You should be moving forwards, but this deep, it is virtually impossible to tell will direction you are headed and how fast. It’s almost as if you are stationary in still winds, a strange, noise-filled silence. The silhouette of the gunner perches behind his field gun warily, shouting back the occasional “Clear!”
His voice is garbled by the threatening growl of the cloud, but by the way his shape keeps switching between scope and the naked eye, his itchy trigger finger may as well be shown as a glowing beacon above his head. Turning your head to the side, you see the engineers carefully monitoring the engines for any clogging damage. Yet, even in their stoic vigilance, they cannot help but peer over the guard railings into the swirling not-so-emptiness below. Even yourself, who has sailed out of range of a hostile galleon on broadside with only one working engine, who found their ship pinned to a mountainside skewered at the point of a pyramidion that you were certain was piloted by a captain that knew not a ship could be put in reverse, you who had done little more than grit your teeth in determination through all that, share the anxiety of your comrades. Regardless of the futility of it, you feel compelled to utter “Steady…” to the nervous deckhands around you.
The ship trudges on. Once or twice you think you may have seen the other ships in your fleet, but these ghosts do not hold their form as the dust dances. However, little by little, you see more of those ambitious sunrays piercing the looming ceiling above and get a feel for the engines as the strain lessens on their workings. The other side of the cloud is near, which could bring about anything. In a raspy voice, through a throat shredded by the dry air of the Womb, you call the crew to sentry positions and reposition your hands on the helm, eyes in hawk-like focus at the lightening dust ahead.
Should I bother with the next part? Sorry, if it's bad.
My reaction => (http://puu.sh/iAW72/b5ed0db750.jpg)
It's amazing to see how people in this game gets involved in the projects, thank you a lot for this, it will surely helps Mann ! :)
-
*Votes for another part!*
Glad you like it. It'll only be another post or so, as I'm sorta trying to bring up how I felt the first time I experienced Red Sepulchre, down to one particular event that still sticks with me as one of the most visually striking moments of the game for me.
However, having read the next part over and realising how tired I am, it is of a particularly subtstandard quality. I'll see if I can scrounge together enough energy to make it a little better.
As I said, I'm no pro writer and have had hardly any practice (more of a mediocre artist to a mediocre author), but even I have standards in what I want to post.
-
Shoot, man! This is actually really good!