Project Reverie

Personal Narratives & Creative Expression

Recurring Themes Leading to “Leomorn Sword”

Upon reflecting on the evolution from my initial RPG2000 projects to the halted development of “Leomorn Sword” in RPGVX, I’ve noticed several recurring themes and motifs that thread through each version.

Familial Bonds Across RPG Projects

Arguably, the most prominent recurring elements in my RPG projects are the protagonist’s brother and his “formidable weapon.” Across all three projects—“Just the Three of Us,” “Lheon Sword,” and “Leomorn Sword”—the protagonist’s brother, whether Lheon or Leomorn, is depicted as a mercenary, dispatched to battle at “the Oracle” or undergoing training to become a Gemma Knight—a deliberate homage to “Final Fantasy Adventure.”

In “Leomorn Sword,” Leomorn’s disappearance adds an extra layer of intrigue, as he sacrifices himself to save the kingdom. However, in each scenario, the protagonist’s brother is alive and well, eventually reuniting with his sibling.

Unsurprisingly, this mirrors my real-life experience, as my own brother embarked on university studies around the time these projects took shape. “Just the Three of Us” did maintain a more comedic tone with occasional nods to my fantasy novels, but even in that case the disappearance of the protagonist’s brother remained a constant.

All three projects begin with the trope of the protagonist awakening to the gentle nudging of a maternal figure, setting the stage for the adventure that lies ahead—the protagonist’s actual mother in the first two projects, and Lauron’s foster parent in “Leomorn Sword.”

In both RPG2000 projects, Lheon’s sword is prominently featured in the protagonist’s room from the outset—and in both cases the player can interact with it. However, in “Just the Three of Us” and the original “Lheon Sword,” Lheon’s weapon doesn’t play a significant role in advancing the plot; in the former, the protagonist takes the sword with him and wields it—for an enormous, almost unfair, parameter boost—while in the latter, the sword, originally kept in the protagonist’s room, mysteriously disappears, and it is suggested that Lheon himself somehow retrieved it.

In “Leomorn Sword’s” case, the titular sword is notably absent from Lauron’s room, yet it remains the essential trigger of the plot. Like I mentioned in a previous post, in the eyes of Belgeon the discovery of Leomorn’s sword indicates Leomorn’s certain survival, motivating him to reclaim the sword in hopes of summoning Leomorn to prove his theories about the “Underworld.”

Where “Leomorn Sword” deviates from past projects is that the protagonist in both RPG2000 projects isn’t actively searching for Lheon—although, at least in “Lheon Sword,” a “brotherly figure” eventually appears, heavily foreshadowed to be Lheon, despite remaining unnamed.

Coming-of-Age & Self-Discovery

In “Lheon Sword,” the protagonist grapples with familial expectations and societal pressures, embarking on a quest for self-discovery and autonomy—this is pretty much spelled out for the player. Upon encountering their father’s parting image in the woods and learning of his status as one of the last two Gemma Knights alive, the protagonist rejects their father’s path as their own destiny, stating: “It was Lheon who wished to follow in your footsteps, not me,” although only a few moments afterwards, they change their mind: “Dad, I will become a Gemma Knight like you. I will fulfil your last wishes.”

In “Leomorn Sword,” this same theme is presented with subtler exposition. Eight years after Leomorn’s disappearance, seventeen-year-old Lauron serves as an apprentice for Belgeon, tasked by the Northdell Council to explore the ruins of Lochbrook Edge, primarily an archaeological endeavour. Lauron, though not discontent with revisiting the site of his brother’s disappearance, does not anticipate discovering anything of value. However, he senses an expectation to emulate Leomorn’s achievements, a sentiment later confirmed by Belgeon. Throughout his life, Lauron has been overshadowed by his brother’s legacy, perpetually known as “Leomorn’s brother.” Leomorn’s disappearance has led to his idolisation, leaving Lauron both admired and pitied by others.

With slight variations, all these projects feature the protagonist’s relationship with their family’s legacy as complex, coloured by admiration, resentment, and a sense of duty. And clearly, the protagonist’s struggle to carve out their own path amidst the shadows of duty and family expectations resonated deeply with my own journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

From Fellowship to Solitude: The Protagonist Evolution Across RPG Projects

In “Just the Three of Us,” we essentially witness a close fellowship: all three protagonists are neighbours, childhood friends, and adventurers. There’s a palpable ease and familiarity in how the protagonist receives a mission from the druid Emian, for instance, the event that kickstarts their entire adventure. It’s no coincidence that the game bears the title “Just the Three of Us,” as it primarily revolves around these three long-time acquaintances.

In “Lheon Sword,” the trio becomes a duo: Jaisen’s childhood friend and neighbour Kyrik accompanies him on his mission—albeit not from the get go.

Finally, “Leomorn Sword’s” protagonist, Lauron, is a foundling child entrusted to the care of Rune Milner by Leomorn many years prior. I wanted to depict the sense of abandonment that often accompanies such an upbringing. Lauron himself is portrayed as mostly secluded, quiet, and lonely—almost unsympathetic. The reasons behind Lauron’s emotional detachment are explored much later in the story, and despite the player’s immediate introduction to characters such as Eilnys, Davian, and Panril, it’s important to note that they aren’t Lauron’s “friends,” at least not from Lauron’s perspective. He is visibly irritated by Eilnys’s openness about her vulnerability in Dorcliff Ridge, rejecting her self-pity, even though he shares a similar experience: Eilnys recounts travelling to Meusa to complete her apprenticeship, leaving her ailing mother behind, who eventually succumbed to her illness. This should resonate with Lauron, but it doesn’t.

Either way, since this is the game’s first mission, the story of “Leomorn Sword” evidently explores the solitude experienced by those left behind, resigned to a life they didn’t choose because nobody bothered to consider their agency, needs and desires. Again, Lauron’s feelings of isolation and resignation parallel my own experiences of navigating personal transitions and upheavals at the time.

The scene underwent numerous revisions, but when Panril discusses the necessity of leaving Nossa to join Belgeon in Molenor shortly after the Dorcliff Ridge mission with Eilnys, it’s not a question directed at Lauron—it’s rhetorical. Panril’s excitement contrasts with Lauron’s resignation to being directed once again.

For much of the story, Lauron is a spectator, because it’s not Lauron’s story the player is witnessing.

Navigating Loss Through Creative Expression

Game development has always served as more than just a creative outlet for me; it’s been a means of navigating and understanding the complexities of my own life. As I neared the end of my university studies, I had recently concluded a few years of volunteering at a foster home—a chapter that ended abruptly, leaving a profound impact on me. Though I won’t delve into the intimate details of my personal life, it’s suffice to say that it was a year marked by loss.

Additionally, my brother in-real-life, after a period of living in the same city, had relocated to another continent, remaining distant from our home country for years. Playing and creating games, as well as sharing fantasy stories, became vital channels through which we maintained our connection for a time. It wasn’t until later, with a heightened sense of self-awareness, that I recognised how these creative endeavours were intricately intertwined with my own narrative, serving as a medium for expressing and processing my inner struggles.

  • In my next post, I want to delve into some of the philosophical underpinnings of “Leomorn Sword,” exploring how its narrative intertwines with themes of existentialism and personal agency.

Leave a comment